First impressions are crucial. With Conor McPherson's The Weir it was love at first sight - I even bought tickets for friends. In the case of McPherson's new play, occupying a temporary space at the Old Vic before moving to the Royal Court next month, I feel affection rather than the quiver of excited passion.
As so often, McPherson deals with a middle-aged Irishman in a state of desperation. Here he is a lonely Dublin undertaker, John Plunkett, confronted on Christmas Eve by the ghosts of his past. As the title implies, there are strong Dickensian echoes, but Plunkett is less a Dublin Scrooge than a reformed alcoholic. In the first and third scenes he recalls, for the benefit of his young assistant, the terrors of cyclical drinking and the seeming impossibility of escape. And in the emotion-charged central scene of this 90-minute play he confronts his estranged daughter who wants him to come to the bedside of his dying wife.
Like Dickens, McPherson is unafraid to suggest that redemption is possible, even for the loneliest soul. In the past Plunkett was rescued from total degradation by the owner of the funeral parlour, symbolically named Noel. And even now, when his daughter's presence brings back shaming memories of his epic binges and familial desertion, you feel he is not without hope.
The play makes a visceral impact. If I love it less than The Weir, the reasons are partly structural. Each of the three scenes is a two-hander in which Plunkett does most of the talking. I like McPherson more when he offers interplay of character. And where The Weir offers an extraordinary metaphor for Ireland, this play strikes me more as a study in individual despair.
But I've no wish to cavil at a play packed with good writing. And Ian Rickson's production, ingeniously mounted in the Old Vic scene dock with the audience on stage, boasts a magnificent performance by Brian Cox as Plunkett. Bronagh Gallagher as his daughter and Andrew Scott as his helpmate listen attentively to this self-confessed show-off. One looks forward to encountering the play again at the Royal Court. Maybe by then admiration will have turned to love.
•At the Old Vic (0171-369 1722), until February 12, then transferring to the Royal Court
