RONDO, the company behind Eleven Fifty-eight aims to explore physical theatre in conjunction with other disciplines. This production, written and directed by Rowan Tolley, combines speech with balletic movement and an almost constant percussive soundtrack.

Oonagh McLaughlin, Fiona Browne and Sue Mythen are the three personas of one schizophrenic, delivering Tolley's script while being carried, thrown or generally manhandled around. The lines are counter-pointed, and often almost drowned, by the dissonant fourth voice of Brendan Murphy's startling percussion, performed on instruments such as garden shears, industrial springs and a bicycle.

Full marks must go to David Garney for the overall style and design of Eleven Fifty-eight which has the three actresses crashing against the walls of a black box set, watched at all times by the slivers of facial photography that form the backdrop. T. Lewis's lighting is stark, though perhaps a little too uneven, with shadows often occurring rather unexpectedly, and becoming a distraction, rather than an effect.

Applause too must go to Rowan Tolley for the extreme slickness of the often hugely complex, physical movement of the play and to the three actresses, in particular McLaughlin, who handle themselves with an impressive restrained energy.

Eleven Fifty-eight contains much that is good, which is perhaps what makes it such a huge shame that the script is so wilfully obscure, humourless and cliche-ridden that it alienates and abolishes the possibility of empathy with the characters. In direction, Tolley does his bad script no favours by producing over-dramatic and overly enunciated performances from his obviously very competent cast. It was immensely irritating that a director/writer should so indulge a love of much abused and tired tropes.