Describing Ballyturk is a challenge, a riddle and an emotional rollercoaster disguised as an intellectual exercise: it’s like having an existential crisis and a stroke and a panic attack, all rolled into one but with songs and dancing and talc powder and yellow jumpers and jenga towers of biscuits and fierce words and fiercer silences. 12 seconds lasting a lifetime. 12 seconds of a lifetime, yet too short for any questions to be answered. If time is worthless when it is aplenty, does it worth more when running out? Do we forget before we know what to remember? If the now consumes everything, what is the value of yesterday?
Enda Walsh the creator and Enda Walsh the destroyer sets up a crib sheet of answers before we know the questions, and then tears them apart. He can build the most perfect worlds of words, and then kicks and stomps on them, because they are too seductive and beautiful. When in doubt, dance. And sweat and run. And do something very very silly. Two men try to outrun the problems they don’t know they have. It’s kind of weird, but in a treadmill of a world I suddenly saw my life. Everyone’s life. Life doesn’t make sense. Not enough meaning or too much. Never the right amount.
Cillian Murphy is a man of supple fragility, with a bounce-back ball of a soul. Mikel Murfi thinks he is strong until he crumbles to dust. Neither have names. Is it because they forgot or we did? Stephen Rea is seductive with a low grumble of an aura, like an earthquake from very far away.
It’s hauntingly funny and with the soul of a clown who wants to be an angel. You know what I mean? Yes you do.