Cleanliness Is Next to Godliness...But Dirtiness Is Next to Heaven is billed as "a glorious dive into the pleasures of bathing". But this promenade performance in the Dulwich Leisure Centre turns out to be a damp squib. A trip to your local pool will offer more in the way of theatre; swimming baths are, after all, a wonderful place to observe the preening rituals of the modern teenager.
Much of the most enticing theatre at the moment is taking place away from theatres, either in found or site-specific spaces. But there is still an idea floating around that if you take audiences out of the theatre and let them wander around, they will be so thrilled by the fact that they are not sitting in rows of plush velvet seats, they won't even notice that the show has no content at all.
The best theatre of this kind, whether it is by Hilary Westlake, Grid Iron or WilsonWilson, not only realises the possibilities of a particular space but adds to it. Helena Goldwater's performance is about as involving as being shown around a building by an estate agent. It never makes the chlorine-infused corridors breathe, the building come alive, or ghosts walk. It fails to make you feel that you have peeped behind the shower curtain to witness anything surprising or forbidden.
The tiny, prison-like bath cubicles are interesting from a historical point of view, but are not made any more interesting by having a man sitting in one singing. There are odd moments when the hour threatens to spring into life - when a young woman wipes her crotch with her hand, then offers it to us to sniff, and bathing beauties do synchronised swimming - but the theme of privacy and private parts remains undeveloped. The whole experience lacks visual, aural and thematic richness. It is neither sufficiently witty nor sufficiently moist to suffice.
Until November 11. Details: 020-8693 1833.
