In 1934, Robert Flaherty brought a film crew to remote Inishmore island to film The Man of Aran, a “fictional documentary,” and according to playwright Martin McDonagh—boy, was it ever fictional. McDonagh takes us back to 1934, with this hook of a plot piece—Mr. Flaherty’s (and Americans’) romanticized version of ‘30s Irish, rural life—to show us his version of same, and it’s that which fuels the bonfire of satire in the darkly funny style that’s become the hallmark of the infamous “dark lord of humor.” This bright/dark/side-splittingly funny tale takes place not on any movie set, nor does it include film scenes of imaginary, stalwart and stoic sea goers. Instead, the exaggerated romanticism of small town Irish life, standing still in time (essentially on a windy rock in the sea, so no one much leaves), is turned inside out by the equally exaggerated (or not?) intrigue among the socially-unfiltered inhabitants of neighboring Inishmaan. Claustrophobia and generations of Groundhog Day repetitions of routine, foster characters not to be found in Our Town.