An Irishman's Diary

When going to the theatre, I don't always make a point of inquiring beforehand about the play's duration. In the worst productions, after all, not knowing when the end will come sometimes lends an element of suspense that is otherwise lacking. But at the opening of a staged version of Ulysses on Tuesday, I did seek an advance estimate of the running time.

Two and a half hours including the interval, they said. Which would be a hefty length for most plays but, as an adaptation of a 265,000-word novel, sounded reassuringly concise. Certainly it was nothing compared with a four-hours-plus production of The Iceman Cometh I saw a few years back, for which the venue had to add a second interval, as well as issuing health warnings for people with weak bladders.

There remained, however, the question of whether any staging of Ulysses - this one was by a Scottish company, Tron - could be equal to this famously verbose work. I had my doubts. And consequently, I also had an escape plan.

It so happened that, the same evening, I was scheduled to attend another event, the US embassy's election night party. This promised to be more dramatic than any mere play. So if things turned ugly at the Project Theatre, my plan was to sneak away during the interval. If anybody saw me, I'd blame the pressures of being a newspaper diarist.

And maybe it was because of the same election that, during the play's first act, I saw events on stage as a struggle between two apparently irreconcilable forces: the cast on one side, Joyce's masterpiece on the other. Early results were inconclusive. Joyce was a clear winner in the Martello Tower episode, whereas in Paddy Dignam's funeral, the actors just shaded it.

But even the scene in Barney Kiernan's pub - a certainty for the drama camp, you might have thought - looked like a swing state on this evidence. Despite which, in an exit poll taken at the interval, 75 per cent of me favoured staying for the play's second half.

It was the descent into Nighttown that fully won me over to the production's cause. By then I'd stopped thinking about the book. Or, maybe more accurately, I'd forgotten just how bawdy the book was, and so was scandalised anew. Ulysses is still breathtakingly rude in parts: something the play embraces with an enthusiasm that itself borders on indecent.

I used to think it was a bit prudish of HG Wells to complain about the "cloacal obsession" of the Irish (he was reviewing Joyce, while cross-referencing Swift and others). Now I fear he had a point. In any case, between the excesses of Monto and the more reflective - although still rude - passages in Eccles Street, the play hurtled rather entertainingly to its conclusion.

I still don't know whether, as an adaptation of the book, you could call it a success. But it was, in the words of the man responsible, "freely adapted". And its freedom was, in the end, rather exhilarating.

As I'm reminded every four years, the US embassy holds its election party in Guinness's. Which I suspect is part of a reciprocal arrangement whereby every incoming president does solemnly swear to visit Ireland eventually and, while here, to drink a pint. But the other thing I'm reminded of every four years is that, if the polling is close, you won't get any idea at the party who's winning.

It's more about hot dogs and beer and noisy conversation. Plus you get to wear badges for the ticket of your choice (the Obama/Biden badges ran out early, again). And you can also watch CNN on multiple large screens.

Unfortunately, at 1am or 2am, the vast swathes of pundit verbiage are still supported by only the occasional factoids based on actual votes. On top of which, you can't hear most of it anyway. If you're a political anorak, you might as well hand yourself in to the coat-checker downstairs.

Of course it's always great fun. But whatever about Ulysses, I suspect the US election is unstageable in this country, thanks to the time difference and the irrational attachment to history that makes them always hold it on a Tuesday. Unless you can afford to write Wednesday off, you go to bed not knowing the result.

Anyway, we know now. "No Drama Obama" runs for another four years in Washington (although I predict a brief transfer to Dublin, and another pint). As for Ulysses, it continues at the Project until Saturday, and opens next week in Cork.