When Gerard, a lawyer, is appointed as the minister in his country's new government to oversee a commission looking into the fate of those tortured and murdered by the previous military junta, he has more reason than most to welcome the job. Fifteen years previously his wife, Paulina, was held, raped and tortured by the authorities, and her mental health has been precarious ever since.
But where is the justice in a commission that can discover the stories of the victims but which has no power to name or put the perpetrators on trial? Paulina thinks there is none, and when a quirk of fate delivers a man she believes to be her torturer into her living room, she decides to take justice into her own hands.
With its themes of crime and punishment, retribution and reconciliation, and the need to break the cycle of violence that leads to the victims hitting back, it is a good time for a revival of Ariel Dorfman's 1991 play, inspired by events in his native Chile. In fact, such is world politics, it is probably always a good time for a revival of Death and the Maiden.
Except that it seems a far worse play than I remember. In this clumsy production, it often seems very bad indeed as its political and social themes are subsumed in its creaky, thriller-like construction. I kept being reminded of William Mastrosimone's voyeuristic Extremities where Farrah Fawcett- Majors has her wicked way with a would-be rapist she has trussed up in the fireplace and plans to roast.
Leigh Lawson as the Schubert-loving good samaritan who may actually be a monster is rather good, but Angelica Torn is still in Sylvia Plath mode and is just far too mad. And Rupert Wickham is far too bland as the human rights lawyer who suddenly consents to a show trial taking place in his front room.
· Until August 29. Box office: 020-7226 1916 .
