Hampstead's determination to give new work for children the same status as the rest of its new-writing programme is laudable, but the first of its original plays for kids is so execrable, it actually sets the cause of children's theatre back. From the "it was all a collective dream" scenario to the condescending adults-playing-youngsters style of acting, this is an hour almost guaranteed to put children and grown-ups off theatre for the rest of their lives. It is quite a while since I've left a theatre feeling quite so angry.
After the death of her new baby, the mother of Helen, Andy and Luke becomes depressed. When she goes away for a while, the children are left to fend largely for themselves. Overhearing a soap-box preacher talking of the need for repentance and hearing that a meteorite is heading towards the earth, the children's attempts to come to terms with their mother's absence and their own grief combine with a quest to save the world in a preposterous scenario probably best described as John Bunyan meets the mobile phone.
At least I think that's what happened. Because although I am considerably older than the intended 7-11 age range, I had some difficulty following the ludicrous plot, and never successfully worked out what the play was about and quite where repentance came in. Almost entirely humourless, reliant on the silly gimmick of the children being transported through a mobile phone, and full of clumsy stagecraft when one character exits so they can turn up as another, the production lacks the joy, sadness, wonder and intellectual curiosity and theatrical verve that you look for in children's theatre. Take them to see a panto, take them to Jason and the Argonauts at BAC, take them to Skellig - but on no account allow them near this.
· Until January 3. Box office: 020-7722 9301.
