Take three parts of Rage Against The Machine (now without their social conscience) and mix in one apolitical Soundgarden frontman and what do you get? Audioslave, apparently the first "supergroup of the new millennium".

Audioslave

The Point, Dublin

So the hype goes, but on tonight's evidence they're at pains to distance themselves from their various histories. Audioslave's formula is uncomplicated; the musical prowess of Chris Cornell and Tom Morello, anchored by the rhythmic engine room of Tim Commerford on bass and Brad Wilk on drums.

The delivery is unceremonious, and they take to their task without preamble, pyrotechnics or even a decent light show.

It's clear they mean business, as they set about delivering the bulk of the self-titled début album to an expectant crowd. In one regard, Audioslave revel in being one-trick ponies, plowing furrows first opened by Sabbath and Zeppelin 30 years ago, and revisited by Soundgarden and RATM two decades later.

But bubbling underneath is huge potential.

Cornell undoubtedly has one of the great rock voices of this, the last, or any generation, and tonight, it's in fine fettle, if a little hoarse on the high notes.

Counterpoint to Cornell's rousing voice is the renowned guitar work of Tom Morello.

But tonight, his obsession with the unconventional comes up against his patent lack of imagination. Sure, he's technically flawless, but it's all whirs and clicks, bells and whistles.

His wizardry is overreaching, repetitious and often in too stark a contrast to the angular, derivative riffs that power the up-tempo tunes.

Morello thinks he's pushing the envelope, instead he's staying firmly inside the one he licked shut over a decade ago, a man clearly more proud of his own riffs than his band's songs.

While the show bristled with energy and confidence, it seems Audioslave remain hostages to their own past incarnations.

Here, they displayed the musicianship and the passion to really be a supergroup.

Let's hope they can unshackle themselves from their former selves and really let rip. - John Lane

Kilt

Andrew's Lane Studio

Dark Horse Theatre Company have upped the stakes as far as production values are concerned, and Robert Lane's big, sexy set-design utterly transforms the city-centre theatre's studio space.

Unfortunately, his depiction of a showy table-dancing gay bar, all ramps and curves and swathes of fabric, is made proper use of only twice in the run of Canadian playwright Jonathan Wilson's play about family secrets.

The episodic qualities of the text call for myriad settings, from bedroom to sitting room to the North African front during World War II, to name but a few, and they are awkwardly served and staged within the allotted space.

Tom Robertson (Adam Fergus) is a gay exotic dancer of Scottish descent, and his gimmick is his grandfather Mac's kilt.

Upon the death of the old man, Tom's bitter and controlling mother (Ruth Sheeran) demands he accompany her back to the old sod to pay his respects. Between chatty Aunt Mary (Annette Tierney) and friend of the family Captain David Lavery (Liam Burke), Tom comes to realize that he's not the only bent branch of the family tree.

A subplot between the young Mac, also played by Fergus, and the young David (Peter Daly), fleshes out the family history and acts as a nice bridge between then-versus-now issues around homosexual love.

Wilson's structure is episodic, with long scenes that wander towards the points they seek to make; he also writes in high doh, with the conversations between mother and son particularly fraught.

Director Donnacadh O'Brien manages to cull some moving moments from several of the episodes, particularly between Mac and David, and Tom and the older David, but the mother/son scenes never delve deeper than superficial maternal judgement and filial irritation.

Daly is wonderfully understated as the young lover on the frontlines, but Tierney steals the show as the plain-speaking and loving aunt, investing her every moment with heart and soul, and lifts the repetitive and slow moving text with her every appearance. - Susan Conley

Runs until July 5th