Wreck The Airline Barrier By Adrian Schaplin

Old Fire Station until Saturday 19th May

I like Flying. The take-off, soaring into the clouds, the sense of adventure and new horizons. In fact, I love flying. This play, however, does not. Four actors with a paranoia-wracked stream of conciousness embark on an aeroplane flight of a surreal dimension (destination, Spain). Yet the real journey here is actually a fantasy of fear and hilarity where emotions are magnified to distortion with hysterical consequences. Deep Vein Thrombosis is a pale aeronautic spectre compared to these weird delusions. To alleviate the pressure of a play so stuffed with repetition and distorted cliches the actors leap and dive across the stage wheeling chairs and dancing to the rhythm of the constant stream of language. Both the physical and verbal agility of the actors is tested to the limit by the Berkoff-esque quality of their clowning.

Wreck The Airline Barrier was written by a young New-Yorker and spotted by two of the cast at the Edinburgh Festival in 1999, where it became a fringe first. Yet several alterations in the script (even Anne Widdecomb gets a mention, though not an entirely complimentary one) have made this performance very much the work of the director (Simon Woods) and his cast. The staging is unique and refreshing, being set in the round with hilarious consequences. The energy of the production, and the actors' compelling use of space, make it is easy to forget that there are only four in the cast.

It is, of course, a precarious choice of theme for a play. Few flights these days seem to pass without some delay or mishap, with more or less disastrous consequences. Indeed, during the opening minutes, this theatrical flight looked in danger of a concorde-style crash-down in flames with few audience survivors. Yet, thankfully, with take-off safely completed the actors soared to such clear skies that the audience could not but cling on and enjoy the ride. Not wishing to be outdone by the precedent of reality, however, this production did have its own disaster - a water leak in the theatre basement on the opening day. This, however, hindered only the activities of the pre-performance air-hostess' in the atrium of the OFS. Altogether a minor hitch for such an unusual theatrical production. And though the audience is provided with sick bags, I can assure you that it is laughter, not vomit, that will burst forth from your lips.

Rosie Wellesley, 15 / 05 / 01