Losing the plot | 24 September 2011

A world première at the Almeida. My City written and directed by Stephen Poliakoff. Is it any good? Well, let’s see. Plot, first. It’s not that Poliakoff can’t write a plot; he can’t even think one up. Instead he sets himself a high-minded riddle and examines its possibilities. Take an archetype, ‘the kid-fearful-of-the-dark’, turn it inside-out and you get ‘the adult-fearful-of-the-light’. That’ll do for starters. Bung in a few extra brushstrokes and you’re off. An insomniac teacher (Tracey Ullman with too much grey hair) bumps into two former pupils and tells them about her odd little secret. Every night she trudges London’s streets encountering weirdos and listening to their offbeat chitchat.

That’s the entire play, I’m afraid. An air of tweeness and unreality governs every detail. We’re asked to believe that a teenage dyslexic might be cured by his teacher’s ‘stillness’ and storytelling skills. A waitress orders her customers to remove toys from the floor of a café ‘for security reasons’.