The definition of a dangerman in the Collins' dictionary is someone who is likely to inflict damage on
opponents. It can also be applied at parties for the person with whom a conversation can lead to a
broadening of horizons… or a hostage situation. That’s kind of like this piece. A one-man-show with
conversational leanings, it’s unlikely to be topped in the peculiar stakes. Left perplexed by its sudden
close, but intrigued by what had happened, I sensed I liked it, but couldn’t quite say why.

Perhaps it was Walsh’s tone. Calm, sombre with an edge of menace he reeled us in with tales
of terrors gone by. Biblical, historical, political. From Sodom to Sarajevo, he spoke of rape and
upheaval, the glory of commercialism, suggesting parallels between the world then and the world
now. But he never quite makes a solid point, darting from a topic just as it was piquing
interest. He’d hook you with some new fact or angle but never quite commit to landing you, spinning
off point or challenging you on what he’d said, leaving one totally unsure as to what was coming
next.

When Walsh played with the audience- asking for a nude volunteer or creating a false intermission-
there was a sense anything could happen. This is when it felt most alive. It needed a final
destination. But the journey had some interesting views.

Star rating: ★★★