Writer: Emmet Kirwan
Director: Claire O’Reilly
Once the longest-running cinema in Dublin, turned cracking live music venue, turned unusual exhibition space, then finally a sadly shuttered shell, it is a real treat for many Dubliners to see the Ambassador open again for live performances, and perhaps even more of a treat to see a local virtuoso grace its stage in the form of Emmet Kirwan. Kirwan is, or should be, well known to most as an exceptional spoken word poet, and Accents is a testament to that incredible talent; 6 free verse poems performed over music composed by the late Eoin French (known professionally as Talos). Not only a poet, Kirwan has found acclaim in many forms, from his comic writing and performing with RTE to his play turned feature film, and has explored many topics, from drug use to women’s bodily autonomy. Accents is a powerful collection of pieces that flit between social commentary and deep introspection; a study of himself, of his family, of Tallaght and Dublin and men’s mental health and the housing crisis and identity and beyond. All through the eyes of a new parent.
Kirwan brings all his charismatic energy to the stage; flanked by musicians Ben Bix and Brian Dillon, he jokes with the audience, glides between several spot on Irish accents, flows through verses at a breakneck speed and then slows down to hit some very smooth notes, dances, strikes a pose. It’s a performance full of movement. Full of emotion. As dazzling as the confetti that rains down on him during one poem, to be kicked up again during another. Eoin French’s musical score is gorgeous, perfectly matched to the feelings that Kirwan spells out; the moments of joy, fear, dissonance, despair. The poems and their musical accompaniment are punctuated by pre-recorded snippets of conversation between Kirwan and his family, which set up the theme for the poem that follows, and alongside this barrage of music and voice and poetry and movement, Zia Bergin-Holly stages a light show in parallel, with moments of darkness, flashes of strobe, and orbs hanging from the ceiling that pulse and glow.
Entering the performance space is akin to entering a nightclub, with tunes from Bicep, KH, and Fred Again, to name a few, booming through the speakers, and it’s possible that, as Kirwan teases, some in the audience might be here for some poems about yokes, but Accents goes somewhere else altogether. A marriage of “low” and “high” art that serves up harsh and warranted and well thought out criticism of a governance that has failed its people again and again, a demonstration of the power that the creative arts have to shine a light where so many people just don’t want to look, and a reminder that with new life comes great responsibility – to protect, to love, and to keep fighting for the world that you want to see exist. Unmissable.
Reviewed on January 17th 2025.