Nestled within a mass of scaffolding sits a perfect cube containing a neat, modern studio flat. Man (Jonjo O'Niell) and Woman (Sharon Duncan-Brewster) enter the apartment and immediately and nonchalantly address the audience. Chris Thorpe's text on the connections we unwittingly share with others around the world is dense and chopped up to follow two stories running along side one another. With romantic, personal content combined with celestial, apocalyptic undertones, the monologues are confusing yet oddly intriguing. Parts of the text are crystal clear and impress with visceral imagery, whilst others are difficult to grasp. In a way not dissimilar to sleep-talking, the text falls from the performers' mouths in a matter of fact, dream-like way, with little emotion. Directed by Vicky Featherstone, the actors move through the every day actions of a couple co-inhabiting their home; unpacking from a holiday, ordering pizza and playing video games. They step around each other and appear to be moving along side one another in parallel universes. With a stark contrast between the naturalistic movement and stylised vocals, it is difficult to wholly follow one or the other, do I watch them play Skyrim or focus my attention towards the jam-packed text?
Often replicating a real-life setting can be the most difficult thing to imitate, but the set, designed by Chloe Lamford, is fantastically normal. The detail is immaculate with all the home comforts and trimmings of a typical, middle-class couple living in London. It feels as though the piece is in an R&D state with potential to be politically relevant, yet a lack of clarity of who, what, where and why the characters are and why we should care about them prevent the piece from feeling whole. - Faye Butler