Chicago

The Point, Dublin

At last: a modern musical in which the set doesn't move about, slide or fly.

The large stage for Chicago has two main areas: a steeply raked rectangle in the rear-centre occupied by the band and a decent space within and in front of it for the many song-and-dance numbers. There is no need for ingenious engineering feats to stagger the senses. The cast and musicians manage that with their substantial talents.

The story is an old Hollywood favourite, in which Roxie Hart kills her lover and faces justice. She is married to Amos, a decent nonentity for whom she has no regard. In prison, she begins to learn the ways of the legal world and hires Billy Flynn, a sharp lawyer who specialises in acquittals obtained by emotional mind-bending of the jury. Soon she is a media favourite, just waiting for her release so she can fulfil a dream of stage stardom.

But the show doesn't hang about debating the heavier issues of crime and punishment. It is structured as a series of scenes, each with a musical number, sometimes solo or duets, at other times chorus and dance routines. The songs are tuneful and ingeniously phrased, the dances executed with stunning precision. There is not a dud number among the lot.

It opens with a singing toe-tapper, All That Jazz, and follows with a non-stop succession of compositions that elevate parody to an art form.

Marti Pellow is the essence of charmer Flynn, from his hit number All I Care About Is Love to the cynical Razzle Dazzle. Emma Clifford's Roxie is a triumph of acting, singing and dancing, and Lisa Donmall as her co-prisoner, also charged with murder, is an exceptional singer and dancer with a voice like a clarion call.

As if that were not good enough value for money, a number of the smaller roles are taken by terrific performers who conquer the audience with cameos.

Martin Callaghan's Amos packs a real punch with his song Mr Cellophane, Debra Michaels plays Matron Mama with impact, Morgan Crowley's androgynous Mary Sunshine is a hoot and the large supporting cast and band are great. I recently saw the Academy Award-winning film version; for me this is better.

Runs until May 10th

 - Gerry Colgan

Mark Geary

Spirit Store, Dundalk

Whatever way you think about the singer-songwriter species, it takes a hard neck to stand up in front of a roomful of strangers with just an acoustic guitar and a handful of songs.

The general idea is to win people over with honesty, humour and warmth or to antagonise them with honesty, spite and sarcasm. What's obvious is that the work of the singer-songwriter is tough, complex, frequently thankless and occasionally inspiring.

The Dubliner Mark Geary has been performing for about four years, supporting Elvis Costello, Coldplay and other big acts in New York, where he lived for seven years, as he was waiting tables and recording his album 33 Grand Street. Over the past six months, he has traipsed around Ireland in the company of Glen Hansard; for the past couple of weeks he has been doing the rounds of the country's more intimate venues, playing to people who saw him supporting Hansard - people who were so impressed they came back for a second helping.

As headline acts go, Geary takes some getting used to. He appears at ease with his music but less so with the audience, failing on occasion to grip them with his rambling between-song banter, failing even to launch a counterattack on disgruntled audience members who want him to get a move on. But when he does, Geary has songs to silence the detractors. Of the new material he played, You're The Only Girl For Me In This Town is destined to become a late-night classic. Of the rest, Volunteer was a perfect example of the way Geary combines thin-lipped words of wisdom with effortlessly melodic guitar figures.

If he can tighten up the stage presence, there's little doubt he won't be playing the intimate venues for much longer.

 - Tony Clayton-Lea