Stuck in a Rut

This production would be more satisfying if it didn’t set out to make a point. A Guardian quotation lamenting the bleak prospects of the “New Labour generation” dominates the front of the programme, setting the scene for an angry indictment of the lot of thousands of graduates facing long-term unemployment. Yet hopes of a coherent argument are dashed by a clumsy script that too often flits, confusingly and apparently arbitrarily, among a bewildering array of scenes of youthful decadence.

In a sense, this disjointed text suits a company overflowing with ideas and enthusiasm. Their high-octane performance is at times a joy to watch, as cast members charge on and off stage to tell the story of Lauren (Sophie Cook), an English student and aspiring novelist who struggles to find work on leaving university. There are plenty of incisive vignettes: the look on the Jobcentre worker’s face at Lauren’s glib pronouncement that “I’ve got a degree!”; the icy pride of a newly employed girl towards a jobless old friend; the feverish shopping trip on loan day.

But too many scenes fail to ring true. The play’s tendency toward exaggeration (few students would forcibly stuff Pro Plus down a friend’s throat) undermines the stark power of its central theme – a theme abandoned at the close, when a red herring love plot culminates with an airport scene shamelessly nabbed from the Richard Curtis canon. The sheer energy of the cast, along with some inventive directing, ensures this is enjoyable throughout – but one longs to see them working with a stronger script.