There are faults enough with Alan Hruska's new romantic comedy about two young Manhattan loners who create imaginary lovers for fear of involvement and rejection.
But enjoyment of Bruce Guthrie's sitcom-esque production will largely hinge on your tolerance for Brits who play Americans by baring their molars, gesticulating with their eyebrows and pretending the wind has changed at the end of every sentence. Cast members Amy McAllister and Samuel James's facial acting is so alarmingly vigorous that, when they start talking about 'needing more space', you suspect it's for their expressions.
Alone in her weeny memory box of an apartment, Nellie (McAllister) dreams up Jack (James) to keep her frisky company on the sofa. Jack bears an uncanny resemblance to Leonard, a ghostwriter whose attentions Nellie is avoiding, and who has consequently imagined his own very familiar companion.
When they finally embark on a real relationship, Nellie and Leonard realise the 'comfortable' life they've assembled together (designer Emma Bailey's clever but time-consuming sliding set goes effectively to town with showroom beige) doesn't feel very genuine either. As Nellie's conventional sister and brother-in-law observe in one of a few sparky lines, 'You put on our lifestyle like a Halloween mask'.
There's an interesting point in here about whether we aren't all serial fantasists when it comes to romance, and whether coupledom isn't inherently phoney. But the ironic parallels slot together like flat pack furniture, Nellie's psychological back story doesn't wash and the wafty supernatural ending is very silly indeed.