Small doesn't automatically mean modest. Joy Wilkinson's Fair runs for 80 minutes and has only three characters. Yet it manages to tackle a big, topical theme: the conflict between rightwing nationalism and multi-culturalism in our northern towns and cities. What is more, it does so while remaining scrupulously fair to its characters and their opposing viewpoints.
It starts on a fairground ride with a chance girl-boy meeting: Melanie is a terrified ex-student, Railton a protective local lad. They hit it off but soon radical political differences emerge. Melanie, daughter of the local college principal, is organising a multicultural fair to prove the town has moved on from its recent race riots. Railton, however, is a BNP activist determined to realise his dead dad's dream of a St George's Day fair celebrating the town's Anglo-Saxon origins.
In lesser hands, the play might be a black-and-white affair. But Wilkinson complicates matters by suggesting her two characters have more in common than they might wish. Both are dominated by their fathers: indeed Railton's is constantly visible through a materialising ghost effect. Both are alienated from their environment. Having travelled to India and Tibet, the rootless Melanie detests her Lancastrian hometown while Railton angrily believes it has been hijacked by Pakistanis. While Wilkinson is clearly on the side of progress, she skilfully exposes the shared psychological flaws of her dual protagonists.
Despite a redundant final scene, it is carefully wrought: almost an extended pun on the word "fair". Helen Eastman's production incor-porates fairground rides and maintains the play's scrupulous moral balance. Rebecca Everett's Melanie may have all the best arguments but she exudes the right spoilt sulkiness while Matthew Wilson suggests Railton's thuggish truculence stems from excessive filial loyalty to Jonathan Jaynes's ghostly father. A very good play for today.
· Until September 3. Box office: 0870 4000 838.
