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Life
[ top ] Works
[ top ] Criticism
[ top ] Commentary [ top ] Richard Brooks, Inside the Maze, in New Statesman, 2 June 2008), pp.42-43: feature on Steve McQueen, dir., Hunger (C4; cinemas 2008), quotes McQueen: I wanted Sam Beckett ideally; in the end he chose Enda Walsh, the Irish-born playwright who now lives in Londo. I knew I wanted a playwright not a screenwriter. Notes 20-min. scene with a priest, who finds out that Sands was a long-distance runner. McQueen and Walsh deliberately chose not to talk to the Sands family, though they did inform his next of kin, who kept their thoughts private; they did talk to former prisoners, prison officers and the priest at the Maze. The actor playing Sands is Michael Fassbender. [ top ] Maddy Costa, One man and his monsters, in The Guardian [Thurs.] (18 Sept. 2008), Arts Section, p.28: [...] Like most people, playwright Enda Walsh was horrified by news reports earlier this year of the arrest of Joseph Fritzl, the Austrian who imprisoned his daughter for 24 years. Unlike most people, however, Walsh felt a troubled sense of familiarity, a connection, with the story. I thought, Oh my God, thats my territory. This is my plays. / He isnt exaggerating. The Walworth Farce, which opens at the National Theatre next week, focuses on a tyrannical Irishman who has kept his two sons locked in a decrepit flat since the trio arrived in London almost two decades before. In The New Electric Ballroom, a hit at this years Edinburgh Fringe, a woman is so controlled by her two older sisters that, at the age of 40, she has yet to be kissed. Most chillingly, Walshs 2000 play, Bedbound, depicted a young woman who has polio living hugger-mugger with her flamboyant father, in a space little bigger than a double bed. / Despite the mesmerising poetry of his writing, and its flashes of savage humour, Walshs plays are tough to watch - which is, the exuberant 41-year-old thinks, as it should be. (For full text version, see RICORSO Library, Criticism > Reviews, via index, or direct.) [ top ] Fintan OToole, Culture Shock [column], The Irish Times (31 Oct. 2009), Weekend: [...] What struck me most forcibly [on viewing Walshs The Walworth Farce in Minneapolis] is how much darker the play seems with this kind of non-Irish audience than it does at home. It is not, of course, that Walworth is an exercise in gentle Irish whimsy in any context. Walshs tale of a demented Irish father and his two sons in a London flat, playing out the same weird farce over and over, is pretty ferocious in Dublin, Cork or Galway. / It deals with murder, madness, and the locked-in Irish family. It subverts the whole idea of the Irish gift of storytelling as a cultural blessing and presents it as a psychotic reaction to a reality that must be avoided and denied. No one would ever mistake Walsh for Lady Gregory. (For full text, see RICORSO Library, Criticism / Reviews, via index or direct.) [ top ] Sara Keating, interview-article [Its a mad thing, this strange mix of fear and the compulsion to take risks], in The Irish Times (25 June 2011), Weekend, p.1: When I was a kid, Walsh says, as he explains the genesis of the idea for the play, I used to tape conversations and listen back to them and be amazed, thinking, Wow, that conversation is still happening; those people are still here. And thats the way it is for Thomas. Those voices for him are real. / Misterman is a play about survival, I suppose; the last hour and a half of Thomass life. If he stops what hes doing he is going to die. He needs the story hes creating, because its the only thing that is keeping him going. If he stops, he will realise what he has done, where he is, in this broken, cracking space in the world. I feel like that as a playwright sometimes. / You are trapped in a room thinking, How am I going to get through the day? You are rolling a rock up a hill. But at the same time, if what Im doing – the story – switches itself off, I just wont exist any more. Its this ... – he is squatting in a half-standing position, his eyes rolling upwards, as if about to take flight – it is hard and exhausting, but you love it or you wouldnt do it. And if you didnt do it maybe you really just wouldnt exist any more. [Cont.] [ top ] Sara Keating (The Irish Times, 25 June 2011, Weekend) - cont. Walsh wrote Misterman in the aftermath of the enormous success of Disco Pigs. After premiering in Cork in 1997 and transferring to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, the production thrust Walsh and his collaborators on to a two-year international tour. It was a mad time for Walsh, he says. And when it had all died down, I wanted to do something that was just a total antidote to Disco Pigs, which was all urban and cool. I really wanted to write something rural instead. / Ballykissangel was on TV at the time, I remember, and I thought, Id like to take a hammer to that kind of Ireland. I wanted to write a real Irish story, but a warped one, as if you were looking at that world through a veil of absinthe. / He decided to set it in the midlands. Though I hadnt even been around the country much, he says. But I went off on a bus, travelling between all these different towns, staying in BBs, having random conversations with the landladies, writing them down. And I thought, Well, it is all well and good writing these scenes where people talk about nothing, but I wanted to find a way of showing how irritating that was for a certain type of character. I wanted to find a way of making it much more personal. Mistermans dystopian depiction of a small-town mentality is the frightening result. (See full text at The Irish Times, online; note that the internet version shows a photo of Cillian Murphy erroneously captioned Enda Walsh.) [ top ] Notes [ top ]
[ top ] Misterman (1999): Title-character Thomas Magill is the self-appointed guardian of Inishfrees moral welfare, inside his own head; Mammy has a cold and the cat is depressed [...] when all the words have stopped inside his head, will Inishfree and Thomas survive Thomass judgement day? (See Doollee Com online; accessed 11.10.2010.) [ top ] Bedbound (2000): Father and gaughter share a small bed; he talks frantically about his past in furniture sales; she talks no less compulsively about anything at all, to fill the terrible silence in her head; everything is frantic and broken and ugly because they cant stop talking. If only they could stop and sleep. (See Doollee Com online; accessed 11.10.2010.) [ top ] |
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