When Judith's boyfriend Jack dumps her for another woman, she descends into a depression fuelled by Dairy Milk, fags, torch songs and too much cider. One night she leaves a message on Jack's answer phone announcing her pregnancy, and threatening either to slash her wrists with a razor blade or merely henna her hair. It isn't Jack who comes running, however, but Ros - the other woman.
What there is of this new play from Amy Rosenthal is entertaining and wickedly perceptive about female relationships. Unfortunately, what there is is a bare 50 minutes - the length of time it takes to henna your hair. What there is would also have much more mileage as a very superior TV sitcom than it does as a stage play.
There is plenty of interest in the odd-couple relationship between ditsy Judith, who feels her life has been stolen from her, and dependable teacher Ros, who feels she has earned her happiness. Ros has no plans to give up Jack, but she does want to be friends with Judith and meet for the occasional lunch.
Rosenthal is spot on when it comes to the strange brew of supportive intimacy and rivalry that characterises so many female relationships. She is also great on guilt, and the way we try to store up brownie points for ourselves by buying The Big Issue, not wearing fur and always ordering the pizza whose price includes a 20p donation to the Venice in Peril fund.
Generally in the theatre, brevity is a virtue, but here the play feels underdeveloped. It strikes me as a pity that Rosenthal wasn't encouraged to write a second act, perhaps showing Judith unexpectedly turning up when Ros is some months into her relationship with Jack. This would also give us longer in the company of Amy Marston and Rosie Thomson, who play Judith and Ros with immense comic subtlety. Henna Night suggests that Rosenthal is still not quite ready to throw off her "promising" tag, but it also reminds us what an appealingly unpretentious, funny and touching writer she can be.
Until December 22. Box office: 020-7352 1967.
