It's eleven o'clock in the morning in a council flat on the Walworth Road in London. In two hours' time, as is normal, three Irish men will have consumed six cans of Harp, fifteen crackers with spreadable cheese, ten pink biscuit wafers, and one oven-cooked chicken with a strange blue sauce. In two hours' time, as is normal, five people will have been killed. A remarkable play about what can happen when we become stuck in the stories we tell about our lives. Visceral and tender, The Walworth Farce combines hilarious moments with shocking realism.
It's eleven o'clock in the morning in a council flat on the Walworth Road in London. In two hours' time, as is normal, three Irish men will have consumed six cans of Harp, fifteen crackers with spreadable cheese, ten pink biscuit wafers, and one oven-cooked chicken with a strange blue sauce. In two hours' time, as is normal, five people will have been killed. A remarkable play about what can happen when we become stuck in the stories we tell about our lives. Visceral and tender, The Walworth Farce combines hilarious moments with shocking realism.
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