Apples

Richard Milward was only 19 when he wrote Apples, a no-holds-barred story about teenage sex, drugs and violence in Middlesborough.

It was instantly hailed by middle-aged critics as an authentic snapshot of contemporary adolescence – despite the writer's admission that he was never a member of the social group it portrays.

It’s not difficult to see why John Retallack – the creator of beautifully observed plays for young people including Hannah and Hanna and Virgins – was eager to hear Milward’s dialogue spoken on stage. This is a play to make the most jaded, been-there-done-that teenagers sit up and take notice as lines of nonchalant brutality are delivered with a wink or a shrug. The problem is that once it has their attention, it’s not clear what Apples has to say.

Awkward Adam, who has OCD and an abusive dad, has a crush on school goddess Eve, who has a love of pilled-up dancing and a terminally ill mum. This might be any other tale of clumsy courtship, reckless recreation and acute embarrassment were it not for Gary, who is a rapist.

Among the book’s defining features is its use of multiple narrators, and Retallack has retained this, along with diversions into the surreal. However, only Adam’s account feels like a warts-and-all-confessional – the other characters could be speaking to their friends, or a documentary-maker – and as a result the central narrative is viewed from his perspective.

Eve, played by the gorgeous Therase Neve, retains an air of untouchable mystery. She may talk of her longing for a boy who’ll stick around after sleeping with her, but there’s little insight into how she might feel about being raped or why she might not regard this as a crime worth reporting.

It’s not that a play like Apples should have a glaring social message tacked on - Retallack's own work is always more subtle than that - but this feels like a breathless rollercoaster of messy business fuelled by drugs, alcohol and hormones in which one bad trip blends into another and the concept of victims and predators is scarcely relevant.

This high-octane production is performed with gusto and absolute commitment by its young cast of six. It is entertaing and frequently funny, but it ultimately offers no more than a superficial glimpse into a troubling world.