The bluebird of happiness proves typically elusive in David Lewis’s new play – and adman-turned-novelist Paul clearly isn’t going to catch it during a late night playing Angry Birds on his iPhone.
A breakdown led to his penning of a self-help book – but it proves impossible to follow his own advice on how to lead a fulfilling existence in a consumer society.
Life is little more blissful for his ex-wife, Emma, now married to his erstwhile colleague with a new baby; while his daughter Daisy, suffocating in a surfeit of material comforts, stirs up trouble between her mother and stepfather, hoping her parents will reunite.
All the action takes place on and around one smart sofa, with scenes from both households overlapping. The writing, which owes a massive debt to Alan Acykbourn, is heavy on polemic, and Lewis’s well-acted but over-deliberate production ultimately fizzles rather abruptly out. Still, it’s shrewd and sourly funny.