Olwen Fouéré is even more beautiful in person.
Sitting in tracksuit and cardigan in a light-filled dance studio in Dublin, hurriedly eating a packed lunch, the French-Irish actress exudes a warmth and charisma that belies the often aloof, statuesque roles she plays on stage. Read the rest of this entry »
Megan O'Riordan, pro gambler
Earlier this week, I got an email from a writer friend, Simon Doyle. He was writing a new play, he said. It was about the kidnapping of a South Korean film director and his ex-wife actress by North Korean spies in 1978, and their being “forced by dictator Kim Jong-il to make a socialist interpretation of ‘Godzilla’”. It was called ‘¡ZAP!’ He invited me to a staging of some scenes on Saturday, as part of something called Project Brand New.
Jason Byrne’s production of the late Sarah Kane’s play, ‘Phaedra’s Love’, is a brazen success. From the opening scene of the young prince Hippolytus slumped in an armchair in front of the tv, masturbating into a sock, to Phaedra’s hips and heels, to ‘Tainted Love’ on the soundtrack, to the ritualised violence of the extraordinary closing scenes, it lurches between louche cool and a deeply moral sense of horror with relentless economy.
