FOLEY

At the Irish Repertory Theatre, l32 W. 22nd St. Through April 19. Call (212) 727-2737.

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ONE of the most exciting and innovative forms new Irish theater has found for itself is the dramatic monologue – an autobiographical confession in which a character comes before us to tell us how his or her life has taken this twisty shape.

Conor McPherson is a master of the form, from his early “Rum and Vodka,” about a screwed-up young Dubliner, to later plays like “The Weir” and “Dublin Carol,” which feel like multiple monologues woven together.

Now comes “Foley,” Michael West’s fresh, unforgettable one-man drama at the Irish Rep.

Foley is a youngish man, one of the dwindling number of Southern Irish Protestants.

His father, a prickly sort, was a “gentleman farmer” who lived at a rural house called Castleowen and despised the surrounding Catholics, whom he called “poachers,” while Foley’s mother was a dim woman mad about gardening.

Foley revolts. He joins the Catholic Church, with its “candles, confession, statues, poor old gullible women,” and marries a young Catholic woman. His parents, shocked at his defection, don’t attend the wedding.

Not that Foley’s bride is any prize, either: She’s narrow-minded and materialistic.

Foley himself longs for beauty. He recalls a wild horse he encounters in a field, who romps off after a brief moment of glory.

As Foley, Andrew Bennett is an alluring and hypnotic storyteller. With a mix of arrogance and masochism, he gets the man’s dry, despairing wit. His is a haunting performance in a haunting play.