Underneath

This likeable, imaginative and meandering one-man show sees Irish writer-actor and serial one-man-show merchant Pat Kinevane (‘Forgotten’, ‘Silent’) lead us through the life and death of a Cork woman who struggles not to be defined by a facial disfigurement that she suffered as a child. That’s partly where the title ‘Underneath’ comes from – the idea that beauty is more than skin deep – but it also nods to how Kinevane walks, talks, sings and dances this black comic yarn from beyond the grave. 

At the show’s opening, Kinevane emerges from the deep of a Cobh graveyard clad head-to-toe in a tight body suit, rags and black and gold make-up. He looks more like a bizarre sea creature than a dead woman. But his strange, beguiling presence immediately lunges at the show’s twin interests in death and beauty. The few props he uses – a big piece of a cloth, a magazine, a crown – are all gold. Glamour and decay sit side by side. There’s pain here, but much to laugh and wonder at too. 

‘Underneath’ might sound macabre, and much of it is, but Kinevane’s teasing, crafty writing also finds room for songs, reality-TV satire, wordplay and a sprinkling of direct chats with members of the audience. A warning to latecomers and toilet-goers; expect to be drawn in to the show, albeit gently. By the end of opening night, Kinevane was telling this story to ‘Laura’, ‘Mo’ and ‘Jade’ as if they were old pals and the only ones in the room. That’s the sort of warm, chatty intimacy that he brings to this tale. It’s so endearing that you can forgive some of his show’s slightly confusing wanderings – diversions that tend to bury some of the show’s central story and themes from time to time. Still, there’s invention here in spades.