
Sabotage review: Joyously chaotic festival opener has all the fun of the circus
Galway International Arts Festival, Nimmo's pier, Claddagh Quay
★★★★☆
The central, delightful contradiction in NoFit State's show is that the aesthetic is raggle-taggle, harum-scarum, scatty, chaotic, anarchic travelling circus, but the reality is that this is a very highly-skilled troupe, performing with precision and perfect timing. And with a lot of heart and fun to boot.
The Cardiff-based company of international performers arrive in town with their tent seating 700 in the round, plus snack-bar tent and living quarters, so there's a real sense of circus about proceedings as audiences rock up. This is the opening spectacular for the city's arts festival and it sets a joyous, awe-inspiring tone, triumphing over the temporary November-like conditions outside.
Action starts well before showtime, as assorted players gather their wits and their bits about them and engage the audience. The mayor's gold chain in the audience seems like a magnet for several performers, who involve him in 'help' or card tricks. A soldier with a wilting bunch of flowers and a plaintive air waiting for his amour, a tall muscular man with false eyebrows, a frock and lots of charm, a woman with a basket of wigs – all are getting into gear, setting the mood for stage business and busyness.
The shambolic vibe is deceptive; this is far from chaotic. It is technically adept in both stagecraft and performance skills.
READ MORE
Thus it bursts forth, starting with a virtuoso spin by a little person in shades, cool and sexy, all hip swivels and acrobatics using small crutches.
Aerial is almost ubiquitous these days, but this is a wow: suspended by long hair, or enfolded in giant skirts composed of multiple smaller ones, or draped languorously over a trapeze, using arms only for action. There is rarely only one thing going on: as well as aerial, your eye is drawn to multiple actions or tableaux simultaneously below.
It's hard to keep track, but there are perhaps 13 or 14 performers onstage plus about six musicians in the excellent band; the live original music is intrinsic, mixing rock, folk, Celtic and poppy sounds. They're all multitasking, moving from the heavens to playing in the band, to shimmying up and down towers of the impressive rig, swarming the ground prone on skateboards, performing on the huge circle truss as it moves down from the tent roof or bombing through the action on roller-skates.
There is no let-up. All the skills of new circus are on display, with various twists. Tightrope dancing, or more like flopping-bouncing about on the rope; fine hoopwork; juggling from a pit in the ground. Twirling, grace, and anarchic, silly pratfalls.
There are calmer interludes too. A trio of widows in black holding bunches of flowers enter with dignity, explode in a moment of wild dancing, then move on. The big guy and the little guy traverse the stage in long black dresses and have a moment of interdependent balance – on giant platform shoes.
[
As Galway's arts festival opens, the city's long-expected cultural space inches slowly towards planning this year
Opens in new window
]
NoFit State was founded in 1986, 'a politically charged time, in a recession, and as a creative reaction to the world around them'. The title Sabotage seems a loose concept, tying together visuals evoking war, conflict, exclusion, protest, riots. An illuminated ambulance beetles about. An oblong shape morphs, via changing projections, from army tank to bus to shipping container. It's imagistic rather than narrative.
While thematically it's vaguely dark and evocative of our disturbing world, there's also a whole lot of humour and jollity, a sense of community and connection, and the show is exhilarating, breathtaking, infectious and hugely entertaining, rather than ponderous. A gorgeous, chaotic, playful, joyous, accomplished start to a festive fortnight.
Until July 27th at 8pm plus several matinees. Giaf.ie
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


The Irish Sun
8 hours ago
- The Irish Sun
Daniel O'Donnell and Daithi O Se go head-to-head and take hilarious digs on air ahead of All-Ireland final
THE two nicest men in Irish showbiz engaged in the softest trash talk in radio history today as Daniel O'Donnell and Daithi O Se traded a cupla focal ahead of the All-Ireland final. Soft spoken Donegal singer 2 Daithi is backing his home county to win in the All-Ireland final on Sunday Credit: Andres Poveda LTD 2 Daniel said he'll bring back the Sam to Donegal Credit: Not known, clear with picture desk The unlikely duo called in to the Oliver Callan Show on RTE Radio One as part of a segment building up to the big clash in Croke Park on Sunday. Wee Daniel fired the opening shot in the head to head as he boasted that the Sam Maguire trophy 'has the bag packed' and will be heading back to Donegal this weekend. The country music sensation will play a series of shows in Killarney's INEC next month and joked that he won't be able to show his face in Kerry if Donegal lose after all his bragging. He said: 'I have to go to the Kingdom at the end of August because we've shows in Killarney and I do not want to be introduced to Sam Maguire as a Kerry resident so it is all or nothing. read more on daithi o se 'I have to lay it down to Jim and the team for my sake if nobody else's they have to take Sam back to Donegal.' He joked: 'I might cancel the INEC.' Daithi said: 'They've a new song written now for Daniel when he comes down to Killarney to the INEC and it's called Jimmy's scratching a**es.' Most read in Celebrity The light hearted segment ended with Daniel O'Donnell hoping that the All-Ireland final lives up to the game with both teams leaving it all on the pitch. He said: 'All joking aside. My hope is that both teams come out and leave everything on the pitch in Croke Park and whoever wins that the other team is proud of what they did. Daniel O'Donnell sends fans wild 'I think if they both come out and play the way they can play it will be the game of all games and that's what I hope for now seriously. 'Whatever team has to go home without Sam that they are happy that they did their best.' Daithi slagged the sweet talking Donegal man and claimed: 'He'd talk a pig into a ham sandwich.'


Irish Times
8 hours ago
- Irish Times
Liam Neeson: From Paisley-loving Catholic boy to actor, then action man, now comedy star
Liam Neeson is taking over the lead role in the Naked Gun series from Leslie Nielsen . This makes some sense. If you watched his supporting turn in Ricky Gervais 's Extras or Lisa McGee 's Derry Girls, you will know he has a good line in deadpan comedy. The action roles he's focused on over the last decade and a half provide him with a persona on which he can ironically riff. But he is in a very different place to Nielsen when he moved into comedy with Airplane! in 1980. The Canadian performer was a busy, but only modestly famous, 'that guy' actor of the chiselled school. It was the Zucker brothers' Airplane! and, from the same team, Naked Gun, that belatedly made him a star. He is the beloved straight-faced comic who bossed the stuffed beaver joke. Neeson comes to The Naked Gun – a 'legacy sequel' to 1994's Naked Gun 33⅓: The Final Insult – as an Oscar- and Tony-nominated actor who has worked with Steven Spielberg , Martin Scorsese , Neil Jordan , Christopher Nolan , Woody Allen and Clint Eastwood . He was an Irish movie star when we didn't really have such things. As a young man he acted at the Lyric Theatre in Belfast and at the Project Arts Centre in Dublin. He's played God on TV and (as Aslan the lion) an incarnation of Jesus Christ on film. It's rather as if, in 1980, the Zuckers had chosen Richard Burton as their comic lead. READ MORE Then again, the art to being Neeson has, as we shall see, always involved some defiance of expectations. In early 2009 many raised eyes at him appearing in a straight-up action film. Taken proved an enormous hit – one of his defining roles – and he has spent much of his senior years leaping from helicopters and evading rocket-propelled grenades. Why wouldn't he take on the role of Frank Drebin Jr, son to Nielsen's elder Drebin, opposite the tireless Pamela Anderson in The Naked Gun? 'I thought, yeah, I guess I could do that as long as I play it dead seriously and not try and imitate Mr Leslie Nielsen. He was wonderful,' he said before shooting began. 'I'm looking forward to it. It's a good script and there's a few laugh-out-loud moments in it.' Now that's how an Ulsterman boosts a screenplay. 'A few laugh-out-loud moments.' Don't get carried away, big man. Then there is that other great Neeson anomaly. He is a reticent interviewee, often bordering on uncommunicative, who, nonetheless, has an extraordinary ability to put his huge foot in it (whatever 'it' might be that week). He doesn't blurt out often. But when he does, nobody blurts quite like him. Neeson is the Botticelli of Blurt. I have been bumping into Neeson for a long time. Looking back at our interviews, I was surprised to discover that, 23 years ago, he was already having to manage his propensity to manoeuvre boot into ordure. 'He raises his hand, shakes his head and exhales a pained sigh,' I wrote. 'Having put his foot in it once too often in the past, the 50-year-old actor is now inclined toward a great deal of head shaking and sighing.' In 2002? This was long before his controversial blurt on the Weinstein affair, the misinterpreted blurt on becoming a Muslim and, most notoriously, that blurt on his brief inclination to become a vigilante. In 2022 he was still cleaning up after what now seems like a throwaway gag about quitting the business. 'Well, this lady didn't get it,' he said. 'I didn't mean it. But before long, my agent was getting calls. And he was phoning me up: am I giving up the business? But it really was all my own fault.' Liam Neeson in Taken My memory is of a fellow minding every syllable he uttered. This straight-talking Ballymena man wasn't made for the microscopic attention of the contemporary press tour. He found a place in Hollywood. He is long resident in New York. But Ulster still runs strong in his psyche. The son of Barney, a school caretaker, and Kitty, a cook, Neeson first fell for drama at St Patrick's College in Ballymena. Piecing together his opinions on growing up Catholic in a heavily Protestant locale, one runs up against some apparent contradictions. In 2000 he declined the offer to take freedom of that Antrim town after local unionists objected to – perfectly reasonable – comments he had made about how Catholics were treated there during his childhood. Maurice Mills, a DUP councillor, said Neeson had 'vilified the people of this town and in particular the Protestant people'. (Neeson ended up accepting freedom of the town in 2013.) In truth, the actor has never played the poor mouth when discussing his early years in Ballymena. 'I personally never really experienced huge sectarianism there,' he told me in 2018. 'I have said before – and I got in trouble for saying it – that we were second-class citizens in the North. That being said, I was made head boy at a school that was predominantly Protestant.' At any rate, the acting bug got hold of him early. An early influence was, bizarrely, fellow Ballymena man Ian Paisley, whose Old Testament vehemence he used to savour surreptitiously from the back of that troublesome clergyman's church. Liam Neeson and Brenda Scallon in Translations by Brian Friel at Guildhall, Derry, in 1980. Photograph: Rod Tuach. Neeson's parents were, understandably enough, concerned about him moving into acting – he had briefly studied physics and computer science at Queen's University – but were surely pacified when, in 1975, he successfully auditioned for the Lyric Theatre in Belfast. Speaking to him at a public interview in 2009 I was moved by how fondly he remembered his own excitement at acing the audition. He could still walk me through the journey from Belfast back to Ballymena. 'I opened and closed that bit of paper so often it was almost worn through,' he said. 'I showed it to every soldier I met. But those were violent times. I got back at 11.30pm and my parents were expecting me home at 5.30pm.' He pointed back to the white cinema screen behind us. 'By the time I got back their faces were that colour. God, they were furious.' The succeeding decade looks a little like a happy slog. There were few enormous breaks. He worked steadily in increasingly respectable roles. After the Lyric, Neeson had a spell in the Project and another at the Abbey before John Boorman talent-spotted him for a role in 1980s Excalibur. He there met Helen Mirren and they spent five years as a couple in London. Heady times. She was moving into her pomp while he was still making the steady ascent. 'We loved each other. We were not meant to be together in that way, but we loved each other very, very much,' Mirren said, years later. 'I love him deeply to this day. He's such an amazing guy.' [ Liam Neeson: Unexpectedly beating up people at age 65 Opens in new window ] Neeson eventually took a deep breath and lunged for Hollywood. He got a decent job in The Bounty opposite Anthony Hopkins. You can catch him in the Palme d'Or-winning The Mission. He started his auteur run with the Dead Pool for Clint Eastwood in 1988 and Husband and Wives for Woody Allen in 1992. By that stage, he was in a position where work seemed secure. Maybe he would never be a star of the brightest magnitude – time was clattering on – but there are worse things than life as a middle-aged character actor. [ How did that nice Liam Neeson become a psychopathic killing machine? Opens in new window ] Schindler's List, from 1993, secured his place in the firmament. It is said that, after many auditions for the role, Spielberg's mother-in-law eventually identified him as the only man for the job. 'I've been told everyone was chasing that role,' he told me. 'I know that Kevin Costner, who was a huge star, wanted the part and he would have been very good. I believe Robert Duvall was mentioned at one stage.' Duvall, maybe. But Costner? Such speculation is now pointless. There's a stoic gentleness to Neeson that was perfectly suited to the role of a playboy businessman who, against his everyday nature, finds himself softening to the plight of German Jews as the Holocaust gathers pace. He has the gangly integrity of Gary Cooper, but with none of that actor's ingenuous, aw-shucks naivety. Early years as a boxer and a brewery worker hardened his frame. Neeson knows how to be a serious man. He was nominated for best actor at the Oscars (his only nod to date) but lost out to Tom Hanks for Philadelphia. Schindler's List was probably the shortest favourite to win best picture in the awards' history. Neeson had made an interesting journey. Still in his early forties, he arrived to stardom as a premature veteran. He could be very funny but there was nothing playful or trivial about his persona. When a Neeson character entered the room those already there tended to mind their manners. Three years after Schindler's List, he headlined a film that, for around a year, registered as the highest-grossing title ever in Ireland. It is hard now to appreciate the furore that attended the release of Neil Jordan's Michael Collins in 1996. The Celtic Tiger was just starting to bite. The divorce referendum had snuck through. Now Warner Bros had arrived to deliver our own version of Lawrence of Arabia. The film won the Golden Lion at Venice, where Neeson picked up the Volpi Cup for Best Actor. Liam Neeson in Schindler's List. Photograph: David James Neeson is from a long way north of Cork (well, what counts as a long way in Ireland). He was already a decade older than Collins at the time of his death. But Jordan stuck with his old pal and, whatever disputes there were about the film's political leanings, few questioned the worth of that lead performance. 'It was kind of terrifying because it was a film I wanted to make but to me it was just a film,' Jordan later said. 'I'd known Liam since he was in the Project Arts Centre in Dublin and when I was writing the script initially I spoke to him about it, and I said if I ever get to do this I'd like to do it with you.' Schindler's List surely helped that dream come true. In 2022 Neeson was asked why Michael Collins took so long to happen. 'Well, I think because of the war in Ireland,' he said. 'And I think obviously because of the controversy over the subject matter. And also, who the hell's Neil Jordan, and who the hell's Liam Neeson that he wants to play Michael Collins? That business aspect of it.' This is where it all came together for Neeson. He married Natasha Richardson, daughter of Vanessa Redgrave, in 1994, and they went on to have two children. Now the auteurs came to him. George Lucas cast him as Qui-Gon Jinn, wise mentor to a young Obi-Wan Kenobi, in Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace. The film has a terrible reputation but it ultimately became the first Star Wars flick to take more than $1 billion. In acknowledgment of his status as a walking legend, Queen Elizabeth passed an OBE his way in 2000 . The past 15 years have, however, been turbulent. On the upside, in 2009, he made that surprising move towards action cinema and, then in his late fifties, established himself in the most taxing of genres as contemporaries were winding down into grandad roles. At the Dublin Film Festival in that year, I asked when he knew he had properly made it. 'Well, it's funny. Probably just the other week when Taken opened,' he said. 'The film was released last year in Europe and you've been able to download it for weeks from Korea or wherever, but it still became the biggest film at the box office in the US.' Liam Neeson is taking over the lead role in the Naked Gun series from Leslie Nielsen Just a few weeks after our conversation, Natasha Richardson died in a freak skiing incident and Neeson's priorities shifted accordingly. The support of Vanessa Redgrave and Joely Richardson, Natasha's sister, proved invaluable. 'Everybody just pulled together,' Neeson said last year. 'Vanessa and Joely were extraordinary. We were fortunate in lots of ways.' 'It is, you know, completely heartbreaking,' Joely told me. 'I feel like we have been levelled in life and that we keep going for all the people we love.' Neeson has, indeed, persevered. Barely a year goes by without him craggily rescuing hostages from a speeding train or hang-gliding into a narco-den. His most recent roles were Mike McCann in Ice Road: Vengeance and (no joke) Thug in Absolution. If you can pull that off at 73 then why not? His biggest challenge may, however, be getting through the press tour for The Naked Gun without another incidence of blurting. His history here is extraordinary. We have mentioned his non-retirement in 2002. Ten years later it was reported he was thinking of becoming a Muslim. 'Ah, now that was taken out of context,' he told me. 'I remember doing a picture in Istanbul. The five calls to prayer initially drove me crazy. But after a few weeks I absolutely loved it. I bought a CD so that I could play it when I got back to New York. So then I was becoming a Muslim ...' In 2018, on the Late Late Show, he said that the fallout from the Harvey Weinstein scandal had caused 'a bit of a witch-hunt' and noted that he was 'on the fence' about allegations concerning Dustin Hoffman. All of these disturbances were nothing as to the flak that landed when, a year after the Late Late incident, in a routine promotional interview, he told how, after a friend was raped by a black man, he went out ' with a cosh, hoping I'd be approached by somebody '. It got worse. 'I'm ashamed to say that, and I did it for maybe a week – hoping some [air quote gesture] 'black b**tard' would come out of a pub and have a go at me about something, you know? So that I could kill him,' he continued. After the story broke Neeson went on Good Morning America and offered a convincing, self-lacerating gloss on the situation. The world moved on. Most got that he had simply chosen the oddest imaginable place to make a confession about a regretted incident. No subsequent blurt has attracted such attention. But his PR handlers will be chewing their nails in the lead up to the unveiling of The Naked Gun. Neeson is an absolute original. Almost entirely in good ways.


The Irish Sun
9 hours ago
- The Irish Sun
Ireland AM star shares scenic Kerry snaps as he strips down to soak up sun ahead of All-Ireland final
IRELAND AM star Deric Hartigan has shared a glimpse into his trip to Kerry ahead of this weekend's All-Ireland final. The celebrity weatherman has been documenting his travels across 2 Deric enjoyed a trip to Kerry Credit: Instagram 2 The weatherman shared a series of snaps from his trip Credit: Instagram Deric has been keeping his followers up to date on The He also posed shirtless in one snap while standing in front of a mountain and lake wearing just a pair of black shorts. Deric captioned his post: " Views and vibes in the Kingdom #Kerry." READ MORE ON IRELAND AM Fans and friends flocked to the comment section to share their love for his post. Teresa said: "Love the pictures, great place is Kerry." Angie wrote: "Yes please." Another added: "Lovely photos Deric." MOST READ IN THE IRISH SUN The weatherman was recently left Deric stepped out of his comfort zone as he ventured to Emerald Park to celebrate ten years of the Cú Chulainn coaster. Deric Hartigan's fans say he's 'best' as he leaves Ireland AM stars Muireann O'Connell and Tommy Bowe in stitches During his time in the park, Deric was forced to face his fear and ride the iconic rollercoaster. The 45-year-old could be seen screaming his head off while sitting on the ride as Deric told them: "Guys it wasn't my finest moment. Now you know me right? I can get up on a horse, I can play polo, I can get into a tank and dress up as a mermaid, I can wear a TOP TV "That for me was very very tough. I suppose I was facing my fears here this morning. Did I look good?" Muireann replied: "Highly enjoyable." Deric revealed that his producer wanted him to go on the ride again and he refused saying: "No we are not doing it again Sinead - this is a one take wonder special." The presenter added: "But I definitely faced my fear this morning." Tommy remarked that the person sitting beside Deric looked like he was having a great time but looked worried that Deric was "going to get sick on him". Deric responded: "Oh he was nice and relaxed. I was the jittery one but anyway I loved it. I had great fun."