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Two Minutes

Chris O'Rourke
Apr 17
2 min read

****

Breda McCann’s debut play, Two Minutes, first premiered in 2020 and was about to take the world by storm when COVID put paid to its prospects and promises. Five years on and McCann returns to where it all began at The Civic Theatre, Tallaght, with a spritely revival of her little ditty about Trisha and Billy, fourteen years married and having a final fling in the last chance, fertility saloon. Proving, in the process, that you can’t keep a good thing down. McCann revealing a natural flair for comedy in a hilarious debut that’s hugely heartfelt and wildly entertaining.

A tale of mantras, music, and more intercourse than the Kama Sutra, McCann’s couple have tried everything to conceive. Yet despite there being nothing biologically wrong with either of them, the pitter patter of little feet isn’t happening. The frayed, five-a-side loving, Billy, is reaching the point of being done with it all. The organic, yin yang, mistress of chill, Trisha, fuming with frustration is not ready to give up just yet. Throw in secret Chinese takeaways, red raw bejazzling, and a quickie seduction on the side of a football pitch and you have a couple so wrong in so many ways they can only be right for each other. A couple fused by an older pain that informs their desire for a baby and their frustrations with sterility. Leading to choices which might bring them closer together or destroy what they already have.

Throughout, Two Minutes exudes a punkish, DIY quality similar to an untrained musician grabbing a guitar to bash out a tune they’ve learnt by ear. McCann’s Two Minutes looking like an unpolished play in its rough, unvarnished state, full of raw, infectious energy that’s impossible to resist, and forgives several shortcomings. Including a Larry Hagman joke that will go over many people’s heads and a more serious unease with vulnerable emotions. McCann's shift to a tell-all monologue with a scrapbook, along with a rushed final scene dashed off like an embarrassed goodbye suggest difficulty writing deeper emotions. Unlike her comedy which is pure gold. Tensions director Audrey Devereux unevenly negotiates, sacrificing rigour and crispiness for an untidy playfulness. McCann’s Trisha a firebrand of delight, enjoying natural chemistry with Wayne Leitch’s Billy. Devereux wisely not wanting to mess with the magic, even as some scenes could have benefitted from more exacting precision. Even so, moments such as Trisha arriving pitch side much to Billy’s consternation leave you whisked away by the sheer joy of it all and begging for more.

Structurally, Two Minutes sequential scenes look written for the screen rather than the stage. A smart producer should option it. As a debut Two Minutes has its flaws, but its irrepressible humour forgives almost everything. A three star production delivering a four star experience from a writer showing five star potential, Two Minutes is loaded with lashings of good fun.