Theatre takes you into other worlds and introduces you to people you would not otherwise meet. Even if these people are the fictional creations of a playwright, you feel that you know them at the end of a good play. You form an opinion of whether Hamlet is sad or mad, just as you decide whether your next-door neighbour is nice or nasty. In fact, in the theatre we often have more information on which to base our judgments than we do in real life, where we often form instant opinions about people.
A2 play with this idea in a piece that has many faults. It is too long, too repetitive and inclined to be self-indulgent. But it also witty and charming. My initial snap judgment was that it was unoriginal and rather boring, but as I got to know it and the performers better, I found it infinitely touching.
A2's trump card is that those involved are performing not acting. They are real people, on video and on stage. In the video sequences they are presented to us; on stage they present themselves to us. It is the gap between the two that provides the interest but, even when face to face with the subjects, initial impressions are suspect: the long-legged mannequin with green, high-heeled shoes turns out to be a man; a woman we have met as the mother of a young baby tries to present herself differently by doing a sexy striptease but keeps finding bibs up her sleeves. Only the baby seems completely herself, uninhibited and without guile.
The company could have developed the piece into something more fashionably postmodern in the style of, say, Ursula Martinez's A Family Outing. That they haven't suggests less a paucity of ideas, more a commitment to those involved.
In the end the piece wins you over through its unaffected simplicity and haunted quality, exemplified by an elderly black man standing alone on stage singing: "If I cried every time you hurt me, I'd be crying all the time."
· Until May 11. Box office: 020-7739 5431.
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