In November 2004, the US army and marines launched an offensive against the city of Fallujah in Iraq, which had become an insurgents' stronghold. What followed was a maelstrom that reduced "the city of mosques" to rubble and caused many civilian deaths. The US military's closure of the hospital and use of incendiary weapons against civilians were breaches of international law.
The story of Fallujah needs to be told, but not like this. It is played out on an installation, created by Lucy and Jorge Orta, that is not just underwhelming in itself, but which also constantly gets in the way of the action. Jonathan Holmes' production fails to engage, both as site-located and verbatim theatre. On opening night, the large number of people in the audience meant it was difficult to see and hear, and frequently the live action became secondary to the use of video.
Curiously, the evening's most compelling moments come on film as a French journalist (Irène Jacob), kidnapped and subsequently released, gives testimony. Her mouth tells one story; her eyes another. Elsewhere, there is Condoleezza Rice mouthing platitudes and calling on God to bless America; American generals being evasive; and aid workers, journalists and local people having a really bad time.
But the lack of focus in the staging is reflected in the loose editing and shaping of the material, and the disorientating use of noise and music is a manipulation too far. It is a piece whose heart is in the right place, but whose execution robs it of authority. You watch, wring your hands, feel morally outraged and trot off home. Nothing changes.
· Until June 2. Box office: 020-7930 3647.
