Let’s be clear: this isn’t a complete historical retelling. Instead, Eireann offers a lyrical and emotive highlights reel, relying more on atmosphere and cultural touchstones than granular accuracy. But it does succeed in capturing the spirit and resilience of Ireland - its history, heritage, and the soul of its people.
The performance feels less like a history lesson and more like a celebration. The cast of dancers, singers, and musicians deliver with extraordinary talent and infectious energy. The dance, as expected, is the centrepiece, and what a display it is. The ensemble is razor-sharp, the choreography impressively tight, and the soloists are simply breathtaking. Irish dance’s signature blend of rhythm, precision, and stamina is shown in full force here. I even spotted another audience member enthusiastically Irish dancing in the toilets during the interval - a testament to the contagious spirit of the show.
Despite being created by an Australian - Brent Pace - Eireann carries an unmistakably patriotic energy. A predominantly Irish crowd filled the theatre the night I attended, clapping, singing along, and cheering wildly at every opportunity. Audience participation was warmly encouraged, adding to the communal, almost celebratory atmosphere. By the time 'The Irish Rover’ rolled around, the room was practically pulsating.
The production also weaves in projections, live camera work, and sweeping visuals of Celtic imagery and Irish landscapes. While these technical flourishes are striking, they sometimes felt more decorative than essential. The dancing and music were compelling enough to carry the show alone.
That said, the storytelling does occasionally falter. Whilst the show claims to track key historical moments, the pace is loosely held together, relying heavily on narration and songs to signal changes in time and tone. Costumes are meant to indicate different time periods, but aren't always clear, sometimes bordering on feeling random.
The most problematic moments come when the show attempts to portray Ireland’s more painful histories. A sequence depicting famine, for example, begins with a chant of ‘famine, famine’ a heavy-handed and overly simplistic cue that felt tone-deaf given the emotional weight of the subject. It’s in these moments the production stumbles, unable to fully translate the gravity of Ireland’s tragedies through a largely celebratory medium. Moments like these suggest the show may be better at evoking the cultural spirit of Ireland than conveying its more complex historical truths.
Furthermore, Act One suffers slightly from repetition, the sheer volume of similar dance sequences causes sequences to blur together. However, Act Two, focusing on more recent history, certainly finds its rhythm. With stronger narrative clarity, more solo performances, and more universally recognisable songs (including ‘Danny Boy’), the second half feels more varied, engaging and more dynamic, and is therefore ultimately more successful.
Crucially, the inclusion of live musicians and singers truly enriches the experience. Their performances not only break up the dance sequences but also elevate the entire production. The ballads, reels, and jigs are beautifully rendered and serve as emotional anchors throughout the show.
In the end, Eireann isn’t trying to be a historical documentary. It’s a true celebration of movement, music, and Irish cultural identity. If it doesn’t always hit the mark narratively, it certainly succeeds in capturing the essence of what makes Ireland’s spirit so enduring. Whether you’re Irish or not, there’s plenty here to appreciate and enjoy, and perhaps even dance about.
Eireann by A Taste of Ireland plays at Peacock Theatre until 31 August.