Conor McPherson moves us with the internal monologue of a man fleeing from something he can never escape. In this road movie to hell, the concepts of good and evil are swept away with never a thought.
The Weir (La presa), This Lime Tree Bower (Sota el til·ler), Dublin Carol... You may have seen some of Conor McPherson’s works performed on Barcelona stages. The Irish playwright has written for the theatre, the cinema and the television, but it was this dramatic monologue that really shot him to fame on the British theatrical scene. In a monologue that plays out like a gritty noir thriller, McPherson spins a tale about the all-too-often ambiguous concepts of good and evil. The protagonist is seeking his own personal redemption as he bludgeons his way forward in what is, despite everything, a flight that cannot fail to awaken our compassion. He tries to escape his fate, but fails time and time again, trapped as he is in the spider’s web that his life has become. But he cannot escape from a past that is constantly catching up with him in his desperate flight, preventing him from finding peace and rest on the banks of the river of life, beautifully personified in this work by the freezing waters of the fast-flowing Shannon. Besides this anti-hero, the other protagonist in The Good Thief is Ireland, James Joyce’s dismal, ancestral country. In this daring piece, McPherson turns a petty thug who has just miraculously survived a shoot-out into a dark version of a medieval knight on a quest for an impossible Grail, enamoured of the woman who will be his downfall.
Autoria: Conor McPherson ; Direcció: Xicu Masó ; Ajudant de direcció: Anna Maria Ricart; Intèrpret: Josep Julien ; Escenografia: Laura Clos; Vestuari: Daniela Feixas ; Disseny d'il·luminació: Adriana Romero Calvo ; Producció executiva: Alvaro Ybot;
