Theatre

Paul Rigel Jenkins’ fizzing-and-crackling play boots us into a predictably grim near-future, with the haves and have-nots split along the line of the Anglo-Welsh border. Wales – aka West Anglia –  is a depressed dump bristling with anti-English terrorist cells. Vlad and Joseph make simple roadside booby-traps, while their sister Mash brings home rich foreigners to drug and rob. The only work on the horizon is at the World Human Ancestry Visitor Centre, built to capitalise on some groundbreaking pre-human remains that Joseph turned up on an archaeological dig.

With consumerism, racism, and the ethics of surrogate pregnancy and designer babies all in the mix, you might think that Jenkins has piled rather a lot on his plate. In fact, this is a cleverly constructed show, intelligent and often very funny. Daniel Rigby, who as Vlad makes a scarily hair-trigger fanatic, turns in a couple of great cameos.  

There are strong performances, too, from Lisa Diveney as Mash and Alan Cox as a hen-pecked Englishman who finds his self-possession. Tim Roseman’s production (on a good-looking set from Libby Watson) chops effortlessly between the different strands, and brings them elegantly together. It’s just a shame that, when that happens, you don’t get the explosion you’ve been expecting. The ending is a real let-down. Jenkins has already made his points in various subtle ways, but he fails to find a punchline to send us reeling out into the night.