Lisa McGee adds a new twist to a well-worn genre in this upsetting and powerful play about repressed memories. Emma thought her old friend Clare was dead, but they meet by chance one day in a cafe and feel compelled to piece together a horrible event from their past that they remember differently - in Clare's case, barely at all.
Two sets of actors play the women: as thirtysomethings in the present day, and as 10-year-olds in flashbacks that weave in and out of the adults' reminiscences. The children's antic behaviour and brittle humour lightens up what is otherwise a grim quest. The drama lies in the unfolding mystery of what happened, the delicate complexity of the characters' psychology, and the tough questions McGee poses: how responsible can we hold children for their negative actions, particularly when they have been victims themselves? Do we ever escape the past?
Little of this urgency, however, is suggested in Michael Duke's static staging, in which the two adult characters stand on opposite sides of a multi-level stage while the actors playing the girls move around the centre area. Thus, Mary Jordan and Veronica Leer must always work hard to create any sense of tension and interplay in the adult relationship. Bernadette Brown and Sarah Lyle fare better as the children, moving quickly beyond the cloying quality of adults-playing-kids into convincing portraits of lively, troubled pre-teens.
But, as the action slips predictably into the alternation of present and past scenes, little sense is given of the mounting dread and inevitability that the script suggests. More could have been done, in particular, to enliven the actors' physical performances, especially given the play's themes: the connection between mind and body, and the spiritual damage caused by physical abuse.
· Touring until December 9. Details: 029-8043 9313.
