Catch of the day
Presented by Red Fox Theatre
As part of 59 E59’s Brits Off Broadway 2026
Written by Red Fox Theatre Company and Megan Jenkins
Directed by Megan Jenkins
59E59 Theaters, Theater B, 59 East 59th Street, in Manhattan
June 10 - June 28, 2026
Photo credit by Carol Rosegg
The Irish pub has long occupied a privileged place in theatrical mythology—a sanctuary where songs become arguments, arguments become legends, and legends, after enough rounds, acquire the irresistible authority of truth. Red Fox Theatre Company's Catch of the Day, recently charming audiences as part of the Brits Off Broadway festival at 59E59 Theaters, understands this tradition intimately before gleefully overturning it. Its central anecdote possesses all the impossible elasticity of a classic fish story, except that this one actually happened. Drawn from a 2013 RTÉ radio documentary and enriched through interviews with Dingle residents whose recorded voices occasionally drift into the performance like benevolent ghosts, Megan Jenkins' exhilarating musical comedy transforms an obscure episode of Irish history into an evening of rollicking storytelling that proves as emotionally resonant as it is uproariously funny.
Before the play officially begins, the audience has already become patrons of an imaginary Dingle pub. The four performers circulate through the house offering Taytos, discussing horse racing, swapping jokes, and filling the room with exuberant traditional Irish music. That convivial pre-show atmosphere never disappears; rather, it becomes the engine that powers the entire production. Jenkins refuses the rigid separation between performers and spectators, allowing the storytelling to emerge as naturally as conversation over shared pints. The familiar strains of "The Wild Rover," "Red-Haired Mary," and original compositions weave seamlessly through the action, giving the evening the intoxicating rhythm of an authentic céilí where songs, gossip, and history are impossible to disentangle.
The tale itself could scarcely be more improbable. In 1966, fisherman Joe Welch and the crew of the Morning Star hauled into Dingle Bay the first sturgeon seen in those waters for more than four centuries. Their astonishment quickly gives way to indignation upon learning that, as a so-called Royal Fish, the magnificent creature technically belongs to the British monarch. What follows is an escalating cascade of comic absurdity as increasingly desperate attempts are made to keep the fish out of Queen Elizabeth II's possession, redirecting it instead toward President Éamon de Valera, an order of Poor Clare nuns, and several other increasingly unlikely custodians before fate intervenes in spectacular fashion. Jenkins structures the narrative with impeccable comic timing, each detour somehow topping the last while never losing sight of the strange historical truth beneath the escalating farce.
The production's greatest triumph lies in the astonishing versatility of its four performers. Jonty Weston, Anna McCormick, Callum McGuire, and Ben Simon portray an entire village using little more than bar towels, an empty crate, boundless imagination, and flawless comic instinct. They slip effortlessly between their contemporary pub regulars and dozens of vividly etched characters: rough fishermen, bewildered children, pompous English aristocrats, hilariously eccentric nuns, priests, London laborers, even Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip themselves. Their chemistry possesses the easy spontaneity of lifelong friends forever interrupting one another's stories with affectionate corrections and embellishments. Just as impressively, they accompany themselves throughout on an array of instruments, creating an infectious musical energy that never feels ornamental but rather emerges organically from the storytelling itself.
Jenkins proves equally adept at steering the production toward more complicated waters without sacrificing its buoyant spirit. As the characters repeatedly attempt to sidestep uncomfortable discussions of Anglo-Irish history—carefully editing their tale for the benefit of visiting tourists—the comedy quietly reveals its political undercurrents. The insistence that Ireland be remembered only through picturesque sheep, cheerful pubs, and "good craic" gradually collides with the realities of centuries of colonial domination that continue to ripple beneath even this seemingly whimsical anecdote about an unfortunate fish. The emotional high point arrives in one of McCormick's haunting musical numbers, which reaches back through the English invasion of Ireland and centuries of oppression with extraordinary grace. It is a breathtaking reminder that folklore and national memory are never separate things; every tall tale casts a historical shadow.
What makes Catch of the Day so irresistible is its refusal to separate entertainment from remembrance. The recorded voices of actual Dingle residents—including people directly connected to the original events—lend the production an affectionate authenticity that continually grounds its comic exuberance. Jenkins never allows documentary fidelity to become academic, however. Instead, history is filtered through the communal pleasures of music-making and storytelling, allowing facts to become folklore without ever surrendering their emotional truth. Even when the narrative detours into convents, Windsor Castle, or improbable negotiations over royal protocol, one always feels anchored inside that welcoming Dingle pub, listening to gifted raconteurs who are delighting as much in the telling as we are in the hearing.
At just over an hour, Catch of the Day somehow feels both delightfully slight and remarkably rich, leaving audiences wishing the evening—and perhaps the pub—would remain open another few hours. It captures something increasingly rare in contemporary theatre: the exhilaration of watching extraordinary performers conjure an entire world from almost nothing beyond charisma, musicianship, and collective imagination. By the final reprise of "The Wild Rover," Red Fox Theatre has accomplished a small theatrical miracle. It has transformed an obscure historical curiosity into something that feels destined to join Ireland's great theatrical canon of pub stories alongside Synge and McPherson—not because its fish grows larger with each retelling, but because its humanity does. Like the legendary Dingle sturgeon itself, Catch of the Day is a singular catch: unexpectedly beautiful, gloriously eccentric, and impossible to forget.
Click HERE for tickets.
Review by Tony Marinelli.
Published by Theatre Beyond Broadway on July 5, 2026. All rights reserved.
