Dublin Fringe Festival 2026: Gleek of the Week

Gleek of the Week by Conor Burke. Image Fnati.c.ph

****

Glee. A jukebox musical, TV series that ran from 2009 to 2015 promoting compassion, inclusion and acceptance. Then there's glee, described as opening yourself up to joy. Finally, twee, a sugar-rush sentimentality trying to pass as heart. Evoking the hugely popular "aw" response, as when looking at a doe-eyed puppy shivering in the rain, begging you to love him. All three in evidence in Conor Burke's suspiciously autobiographical Gleek of the Week. A modest musical, with modest songs by Shauna Carrick, whose "aw" quota is so pervasive that criticism is apt to be seen as kicking said puppy. I assure you, no animals were harmed in what follows, no matter what they say.

If Conor, in the script, is all about the theatrical, Conor, the writer, could benefit from some dramatic know-how. With little conflict, less at stake, no action, motivation or objective worth the tension, Conor's memory play about a self-closeted teenager is less a journey so much as a lovable whine. An encounter with a self-obsessed character sitting in his bathrobe in his childhood bedroom whose life seems over at 30. Talking to himself about himself, for no other opinion matters, the eternally stuck perma-child is nostalgic for his teens with its bullies at school, his failed YouTube channel, and the fact he was gay and wouldn't admit it. Donning his old school uniform, Conor relays the unexciting events of his seventeenth year, punctuated with the occasional song and endless comparisons to Glee. The TV series having saved him by making him aware there were other troubled souls like him. Conor soon to reveal he's completely insensitive when it comes to other troubled souls like him.

In a world populated by weak, supporting walk-ons, Conor stands centre stage dodging PE, wrestling with his bad singing and learning to accept that his worse self is really his best self. Meanwhile, Myles the cool American, Jimmy Joyce the Newbridge bully, and a variety of teachers unintentionally reveal why Conor might not have friends. Not because Conor's gay, but because when confronted with another's secret struggle with their sexual proclivities understanding and compassion are practically non-existent. Eager for them to leave, it becomes clear that unless the word "self" prefixes everything, Conor isn't interested. All that matters is his musical, little big finish. The penultimate image overflowing with all the "aw" of watching your favourite child have their moment onstage. If only you knew how the next thirteen years would work out. For them and the secret sharer.

Less a play so much as a blinkered character study, Gleek of the Week suffers from its characters' blind self-centredness. Neither timely nor timeless, its retro fixation and notions of "my truth will always dominate your truth" feel dated and out of place amid competing notions of acceptance and inclusion. Not helped by Carrick's songs being adequate at best. Carrick's latest offerings, like Conor, seemingly stuck in unearned nostalgia and self-obsession, sounding like they're playing it safe. Not because of Burke's brave singing. Indeed, Burke proves terrific at being adorably funny, owning the stage with compelling presence. Burke brilliantly supported by the unsung hero that is designer and director Lianne O'Shea. O'Shea's bedroom set smartly engaging with Glass Mask Theatre's intimacy, whilst snazzy direction shows top-level pacing and composition. Conor McGowan's lights and Mark Leahy's sound design bringing additional layers. Yet it's all about Burke. If Conor the character is loveable but not always likeable, Burke is simply irresistible.

As Conor retreats into his bathrobe and boxsets, the difference between glee and twee, between life and fiction, is painfully evident. Glee opens you up to joy. Twee imitates it. Joy is not just your own — it's joy with, in and for others. Ensuring you might write a play about it. Share it with the world. Give them so much "aw" they'll be smiling and wiping tears from their eyes. Just make sure there's meat to go with the sweet.

Here, Toto, come on in out of the rain.

Gleek of the Week by Conor Burke, runs as part of Dublin Fringe Festival 2026 at Glassmask Theatre till Sept 12.

For more information visit Dublin Fringe Festival 2026