Richard BodinThe time has finally come. I’ve been waiting impatiently since attending the public reading of Mike Finn’s Wreckquiem. Everything about it spoke to me — from the fact that it takes place in a record shop (I could spend my days in one, if I had the chance) to the underlying message about progress in a world that moves too fast. The reading alone triggered so many emotions. I walked into the Lime Tree Theatre with my heart open and ears ready to appreciate the full production. I was not disappointed.
The Stage Is Set — and It Sings
The first thing that struck me as I walked into the room was the set design. Recreating a record shop on stage is one thing — making it live and breathe is something else entirely. A record shop, when you think about it, is quite flat… Rows of crates for you to flick through albums, maybe a few posters and sleeves on the wall, but that’s it. On stage, you need verticality — height, depth, colour — or it risks feeling flat.
Set Designer Emma Fisher and Lighting Designer Zia Bergin-Holly did a phenomenal job bringing it to life.
Dessie’s Disc really looked the part: outdated, maybe, but full of warmth. While the walls could use a fresh coat of paint, the place exudes the warmth and welcoming feeling of a good record store. Countless records fill the shelves and crates are scattered across the floor. Behind the counter, the audience can admire a religious-like display of album covers, arranged in a grid that forms a giant cross. The rest of the walls are covered with posters, records, and a striking painting of the Rolling Stones’ giant mouth logo.
At key moments during the play, lights animate these visual elements, letting the room itself become part of the story —especially that cross-like feature.
A Sanctuary Under Threat
But, as the story goes, Dessie’s Disc is facing the hungry feeding monster of progress. Which wants to take over his shop to build a giant shopping centre. The shop is the last one standing, as the neighbourhood is being demolished. This is symbolised by the visible brick walls of the shop, already half-demolished — like a war zone. Above the shop hangs the looming Wrecking Ball of Doom. Even though the shop appears to be a safe sanctuary, the sound of progress regularly breaks the quiet with jackhammers and heavy machinery.
Music, Memory, and Resistance
Inside the shop, Dessie and his “associates” reminisce about a not-so-distant past before the bulldozers arrived. Paulie the savant (Pat Ryan), Maeve the nostalgic (Joan Sheehy), and Chantelle the artsy, bubbly student (Sade Malone) are all here to support the resilient Dessie (Pat Shortt) as he fights to keep his shop alive. Everybody rallies against the intrusion of Fintan (Mark O’Regan), the slick agent of progress.
The duality between Dessie and Fintan becomes more evident as the story unfolds. The two go back a long way. From their friendly teenage days, to being bandmates, before drifting apart and ultimately becoming pure nemeses. It’s easy to root for Dessie and his crew — dreamers trading stories about the local life that’s fading away, and their enduring love for music.
A Play That Hits All the Right Notes
Such is the power of Mike Finn’s writing — orchestrated by the excellent Andrew Flynn and made sublime by this amazing cast. The audience is quickly drawn to them, laughing with them at their quirky stories, and aching with them in the more heartfelt moments. At one point, the crowd let out a loud gasp at an outrageous comment from the villain of the story. “This is just a shop.” How dare you, Fintan! The culmination of the evening follows, with an heartfelt demonstration by Dessie & Associates about the meaning of music in life, and how essential such a shop can be. Leaving a speechless Fintan and an tearful audience.
Encore, Please
As the play came to a close, the cast received a standing ovation from an emotional crowd caught between laughter and tears. After the reading, I’d wiped my eyes. After the play, it was no different — maybe even more emotional. That’s how deeply this story of music and resistance to runaway progress resonates with me.
I’m dying to tell you more about what happens next, but I won’t — it would spoil the surprise, and the emotional impact, for you.
What I can say is this: as far as I know, tickets are selling fast, and by the time you read this, it might already be too late. Let’s hope this masterpiece gets the next logical step it deserves — a tour. I hope so, and I strongly recommend you grab the chance to see Wreckquiem if you can.
