An hour-long, slick, superficial look at the film industry and then a brief, cobwebby glimpse into the literary heritage trade: this is the double bill. In the first, model-turned-actress Brenda dates a film's writer and thinks she can change the ending so that she stars. She talks it over in hot pants with the producer, a man with a weeping sore on his behind, her long, bare legs stretching over his desk. They come to some sort of agreement.
This tightly directed duo of plays looks at the mean reality beneath the surface of things American. Four Dogs and a Bone begins and ends with the machinations of Hollywood, and is sharp on the way dreams get manufactured (Brenda, who recites her history of abuse to passing strangers, chants a lot, sounding as if she is repeating "Toys 'R' Us", but it is a slurred "I am famous") and readjusted by negotiation. While none of this is new dramatic territory, John Patrick Stanley's drama does have its moments: one actor, realising she has been dropped from the movie, goes into a trance and dreams of "smelling the apples", while the other changes the dressing on that sore. Everyone in the audience gets the message: if you think your career has its low points, think again. You could be doing all this.
More surprising is the second part of the double bill, Lord Byron's Love Letter, another play about the way aspirations and false promises shape destinies. A granddaughter shows a letter written to her grandmother by the poet to tourists, barely interested, though they have stopped by. We never know what the scroll of paper says - it is held away from visitors, who are then asked to make a donation for having seen it - but we do get to hear excerpts from the grandmother's journal.
Whether it is all a con trick or the commercialised spilling-out of precious memories, this brief drama, shrouded in darkness, says as much about self- delusion as the longer play. Those seeking fame, in both cases, are society's "unlicked cubs", wanting validation from others for all the wrong reasons.
· Until Saturday. Box office: 090-1022 0300.
