Mr. Bergmann of Deadman's Point

Mr. Bergmann of Deadman's Point written and performed by Ronan Dempsey. Image uncredited

****

It evokes a semi-lit spa. Stretched on a long table a body lies covered in a white sheet. New Age chill floats on the airwaves. But something’s off. Perhaps it’s the science paraphernalia and rubber gloves. Or the man in the white Kabuki mask sat silently at a second table. Wearing a dark, leather jacket, meticulously, meditatively, he tears strips of paper beneath the glow of a stained glass lamp. Later he will cut tags off clothing and wipe the room of evidence like a criminal trying to conceal their identity. His radio speaks of the banking crisis. Cleverly, an understated sound design conveys his journey from Germany to a hotel in Sligo. Things begin to settle. To take shape. But if I’m reading the rooms right we’re in a morgue. The body about to be embalmed; skirting close to the taboo about what we conceal about death and dying. Ronan Dempsey’s superb Mr. Bergmann of Deadman's Point refusing distraction to face deeper questions. Like Dempsey’s superlative The Words Are There from 2017, which explored the taboo of male victims of domestic violence, this is deep, meaty theatre. A profound marriage of sublime physicality and precision text crafting a remarkable theatre experience.

Things shoot off on a tangent as Dempsey sheds his coat and mask and introduces Balmy. A tetchy, skinhead lookalike Igor dressed from the 1970s. Through Balmy we discover the corpse is the mysterious Mr Bergman, a secretive no one who also harboured a fatal illness, hidden secrets, and faced a choice between living and dying. The ailing Balmy, courtesy of two gossiping twins peering through the window into his basement, the victim of vicious rumours alleging some unknown scandal. His estranged daughter, with whom he desperately wants to reconnect, ignoring him. The silent Mr Bergman, Balmy’s friend and confidant, listening to his philosophies on life, death, debt and loneliness. Always, the communal corporate hover like thieves of a different colour. Always the choice of death and redemption. But which will Balmy choose?

Mr. Bergmann of Deadman's Point written and performed by Ronan Dempsey. Image uncredited

Like Bryan Burroughs and Raymond Keane, Dempsey is one of Ireland’s foremost masters of physical theatre. Dempsey also crafting amazingly articulate scripts, whose words penetrate with the pin point precision of a fencing master. Based on a real life incident surrounding  a mysterious death, Dempsey takes poetic licence to explore a plethora of themes. Yet not everything lands neatly. Two false starts leave the audience scrambling for a foothold; the silent spa intro followed by a lengthy polemic on the banking crisis confuse the opening, the latter feeling like a lecture that might have been better placed elsewhere. Only when we move from the political to the personal does action really take shape. Also, at seventy-minutes Dempsey's fever pitched performance risks blunting its intensity, despite regular, silent interludes as the mysterious Mr Bergman, including a divine song and dance routine.

But these are minor quibbles in a play where Kabuki meets Beckett to brilliant effect. Like John McGahern‘s The Barracks, Mr. Bergmann of Deadman's Point is a study of living and dying in small town, rural Ireland set against a larger, global, corporate context. Its power undeniable, its performance near perfect; Mr. Bergmann of Deadman's Point an invigorating experience. Begging larger questions at to why Dempsey has had to wait so long to present a truly intriguing play? Doing so mostly off his own back. The development model of peer play dates falling short on developmental support delivering new works. Something needs to be done. We should not have to wait nearly as long to see what Dempsey produces next. Mr. Bergmann of Deadman's Point a thoroughly fascinating experience. One not to be missed.

Mr. Bergmann of Deadman's Point written and performed by Ronan Dempsey, runs at The Civic Tallaght till April 23 before continuing its national tour.

Tallaght, Dublin: Civic Theatre — April 21–23, 2026

Thurles: Source Arts Centre — May 15, 2026

Dundrum: dlr Mill Theatre — May 30, 2026

Blanchardstown: Draiocht Theatre — June 4, 2026

Edinburgh: Edinburgh Fringe (Paradise in The Vault) — August 8–30, 2026

Dundalk: An Tain Arts Centre — September 11, 2026

Roscommon: Roscommon Arts Centre — September 26, 2026

Carrick-on-Shannon: The Dock — November 20, 2026

Wexford: Wexford Arts Centre — November 20, 2026 

For more information, visit respective venues.