An outing to Zoe's Play involves two quite distinct educational entertainments.
The second, an on-stage, hands-on discussion of the mechanics of theatre production - complete with joyous audience participation - is probably outside the scope of a newspaper review (though it's a great aid for a reviewer).
The first is a wonderful new play by John McArdle, aimed at young people between the ages of nine and 13. At the centre of the drama, set vaguely about a century ago, is an argument between 10-year-old Zoe (Pauline Hutton) and her Dada (Brian Doherty) about their relationship with the forest which borders their farm: he wants to clear it for fields; she - inspired by her Nana - wants to live in harmony with nature.
However, while there's material here for lively debates about ecology, at the dark heart of the play is not this ideological tension but deeper emotional resonances and archetypes. Zoe plays and dreams lovingly about the forest's wolf cubs, complete with lupine parental warnings about straying too close to the farm - where they will be killed by her father. Dada, his mind set on Zoe's economic future, treats her with indifference and resentment in the here and now.
Hutton is quite superb as Zoe, veering from manic moments of near-possession to pre-adolescent sulks that all audience members will recognise. Doherty's Dada is hulking but potentially soft; Noelle Browne's Mama is strong but ultimately peripheral.
Chisato Yoshimi's simple cottage/forest set is an extraordinarily effective dreamscape, expertly lit by Trevor Dawson. Martin Drury's direction delivers the right mix of quiet contemplation and ringing, supernatural epiphanies, although the ensemble scenes can't possibly rise to the heights of Hutton's solo moments.
McArdle's script possibly turns too tidy in "explaining" the parent-child dilemma which drives it. But, as it gradually becomes clear that Zoe's Play is a sort of Freudian prequel to the actions of Little Red Riding Hood, we realise that this family's troubles have only just begun.
Continues until March 9th, with public performances at weekends.
