Birds sing. Two men and two women in their early 20s gather apples into wooden crates. At first no words are spoken during The Harvest. Glances and smiles communicate shifting patterns of attraction, jealousy and rivalry. Then Valerii raises a question: has any fruit been bruised? General consternation! No one here knows anything about picking, packing or storing crops. A simple situation spirals into comic chaos.
Tart performances make the most of the fun of the script (Sasha Dugdale’s crisp translation of Pavel Pryazhko). Valerii (Dyfan Dwyfor) is the know-it-all who doesn’t; Egor (Dafydd Llyr Thomas) is the clutzy one who wishes he weren’t; Ira (Beth Park) is the smart one who very seriously sucks Egor’s thumb to remove a bee sting without noticing the visual double entendre that all but she can see; Lyuba (Lindsey Campbell) describes herself as a “retard” because she says something Valerii doesn’t accept. The humour is clown-like – a bit Goon Show, a bit Mr Bean, a bit Benny Hill.
Frenzied apple-throwing climaxes in a change in tone. A new idea is introduced. “They” want the apples. The characters suddenly have a goal: to harvest as much as possible, however possible – the orchard is destroyed. Speaking of “them”, the actors gaze into the auditorium. Perhaps “they” are us. Perhaps “they” relate to the playwright’s situation.
Pryazhko (b1975) is a Russian-speaking Belarusian. His award-winning works are mainly performed outside the oppressive regime of his home country. Perhaps his play is a comment on this. Perhaps not. Because the orchard is everywhere and nowhere, you can read into it what you will. Pryazhko’s absurdity here amuses but, in spite of Michael Boyd’s sharp direction, lacks the depth that would give it savour.
• Until 11 April. Box office 01225 448844
