
First staged in Cork twenty years ago (propelling the then unknown Cian Murphy into the public eye) its central themes of miscommunication and violence were live issues for an Ireland just emerging from the Troubles. It is an interesting move to put on Enda Walsh's very Irish play in Cambridge. It is only when things take a turn for the sexual that this delicate balance is unsettled and events spiral out of hand. Together they are a honed and destructive force. The impetus for the odyssey clearly comes from the volatile and restless Pig, with Runt appearing slightly more restrained.

It is Runt's 17th birthday and the two are hell bound to stir up mischief and mayhem throughout the city. Most of the play concerns itself with the apogee of this Pig and Runt show. Dangerously, this confines them to a linguistic prison, unable to connect with anyone outside their bubble. As well as curating the legend of their own birth, they developed a unique dialect, a twinspeak filled with onomatopoeic expressions and neologisms. The rest of the world may have called them Darren and Sinéad, but ensconced within a private universe, even the concerns about the intensity of their relationship fell on deaf ears.Īnd no wonder they couldn't understand.

Growing up side by side in Cork City, the duo only became closer. Thus begins the myth of Disco Pigs' teenage protagonists. Born in the same city, in the same hospital, and at the same moment, two newborns gazed across the room at each other and just never turned away. The story of 'Pig' and 'Runt' begins like a bizarre fairy tale.
