Theatre review: The Victorian in the Wall

Will Adamsdale's The Victorian in the Wall is at the Royal Court Upstairs in a limbo period between Artistic Directors (although presumably someone had to OK its run?) and has for me an element of déjà vu as I saw a work-in-progress version of the show 18 months ago, as part of the Rough Cuts programme. Guy (Adamsdale) is a writer - or at least, he wrote an award-winning short story in the late '90s. What he actually does best is procrastinate, at the moment over a CBeebies script he's meant to be writing (he's stumped on the characters' motivation.) His long-term girlfriend Fi (Melanie Wilson) has a much more grown-up job (so much so that Guy has no idea what she actually does.) She's also the one who's organised the building works due to take place as the couple gentrify their Victorian East London flat.

Theatre review: Detroit

Set in an unnamed "mid-sized" US city (although you'd have thought the play's title was a clue as to location) Lisa D'Amour's Detroit is a black comedy of American suburbia, and the latest play to come to the National from Chicago’s Steppenwolf company. Although this time only director Austin Pendleton and set designer Kevin Depinet have come with it, a new British cast replacing the original American one. Ben (Stuart McQuarrie) and Mary (Justine Mitchell,) in an attempt to reverse the trend of neighbours not knowing each other, invite the couple who've just moved next door round for a barbecue. Even when Kenny (Will Adamsdale) and Sharon (Clare Dunne) turn out to be recovering junkies whose life stories have a worrying number of holes in them, they continue to develop the friendship. But as well as having a sometimes damaging effect on each other, the two couples will also find a surprising amount of common ground.

Theatre review: The Summer House

If you're going to do a piece about a crisis of masculinity, a stag do seems to be the traditional story to tell. So it is in The Summer House, devised by its performers Will Adamsdale, Neil Haigh and Matthew Steer, and director John Wright. On a stag weekend in Iceland, groom Will and best man Matthew get separated from the rest of the group when Neil, who lives locally, drives them to his holiday home in the middle of nowhere. Once there, they get wrapped up in the untamed nature surrounding it, and the idea of taming nature. But as things start to go wrong not only does nature seem sure to defeat them, but so do the tensions in Will and Matt's relationship.

Billed as a "comedy thriller," The Summer House has the odd moment of tension but mostly goes for the first part of that description, with lots of mainly silly, occasionally violent humour. (Plus an unimpressed reaction to the Northern Lights that was probably my favourite gag.) The main story is intermittently broken up by two other narratives: A piece of Norse mythology featuring Odin (whose all-seeing raven is a great lo-fi visual gag,) Loki and a very windswept Thor; plus the story of a group of butch-to-the-point-of-insanity Vikings, facing death rather more eagerly than most. Both subplots are fun and on-theme to the rest of the play if not particularly integrated into the main narrative. But the performers are very energetic and likeable, whichever trio of characters they're playing.

Michael Vale's undecorated multi-level set looks like it's been thrown together but conceals a couple of surprises, in the spirit of a piece which betrays its devised roots with lots of inventive touches, and props that have to multitask as much as the actors. Its unpolished nature is part of The Summer House's aesthetic, and part of its charm. It's a funny and warm show, and not just because of the hot tub the actors pretend to be in much of the time (the Gate has a fondness for slightly sarcastic pre-show warnings; this time, in addition to alerting the audience that there's "haze" and swearing, the sign at the box office also warns that the play "contains men in bathing costumes.")

The Summer House by Will Adamsdale, Neil Haigh, Matthew Steer and John Wright is booking until the 24th of March at the Gate Theatre.

Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes straight through.