Eileen (Seána Kerslake) is a university dropout, driving a taxi to make ends meet while she spends her nights drinking and partying. Shane (Patrick Kielty) hires Eileen to drive him and back forth from Belfast to attend a standup comedy course from the small, rural town of Ballywalter where he’s exiled himself following the breakup of his marriage. Through their journeys together, both begin to recognise themselves in the other…
Even though it’s set in Northern Ireland and is steeped in the dour winter months, ‘Ballywalter’ isn’t remotely political in the slightest. Nobody cracks a joke about the Troubles, the Orange Order, the IRA, any of it. Instead, there’s a distinct humanity about ‘Ballywalter’ that makes it all the more vulnerable and intimate. This plays out through both Kielty and Kerslake’s performances, both of which are made up of small scenes where their armour is slowly pierced by the other through light humour and easygoing jokes.
Kerslake has more hours clocked in terms of playing characters riven with angst and using sardonic humour as a shield, such as ‘A Date For Mad Mary’ or ‘Can’t Cope Won’t Cope’, and uses it effectively. She’s able to keep everyone at a distance, engage in casual hookups, drink and party as she pleases, and holds a well of sadness underneath her skin that pokes out every so often. Kielty, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. For a comedian known for his outward affability, he’s able to display an incredible reserve of anguish with a single look or a tiny gesture. That’s much of what ‘Ballywalter’ is; small, pleading glances to the other, hoping for some kind of connection if they can get out of their own.
It goes without saying that this is pretty much the complete opposite of what Patrick Kielty is now going to be associated with for the rest of his career, and you have to applaud his willingness to sign up for something like this. Whether it’s a last hurrah for him as an actor or scratching an itch he’s had for a long time, Kielty’s performance here gets at themes and ideas from Stacey Gregg’s script that could have been overplayed by someone else.
Much like her last movie, ‘Here Before’ with Andrea Riseborough, the script has a sharp insight into human emotions and drills down to the bone to get at them. Prasanna Puwanarajah’s direction is slight and unobtrusive, with the camera naturally following the scenes and bathing in natural light as much as possible. At just under an hour and a half, ‘Ballywalter’ is slight and almost mumblecore in its execution, with an authentic examination of uneasy friendships and the necessity of human connection at our lowest moments.