Drenched

A journey into the dark corners of the human brain can make for thrilling theatre - Anthony Neilson's Realism being a great recent example - but sometimes it's useful to have a map.

In Drenched, we are apparently plunged into the world of a young woman exploring how she has been shaped by the relationship between her parents. She tells how, as a child, she sought refuge from domestic disharmony in the bathroom, submerging herself in the same bath where her mother once attempted suicide.

Melanie Wilson gives an engaging solo performance, but Drenched is both confusing and frustratingly unrewarding. The unreliable narrator weaves together stories about her childhood with oblique references to her own mental illness, never quite allowing us to get a handle on who she is or indeed why she's telling us any of this.

A sense of foreboding gradually builds through the sinister use of familiar music combined with the sounds of water dripping and birds cawing. However, any attempt at a subtle exploration of jealousy, role-play, or the bond between mother and daughter are undermined by a graphic conclusion that's punctuated by the one-line equivalent of a raised eyebrow.

Boilerhouse specialises in creating 'unique and spectacular' theatre experiences, in which script is complemented by creative staging. Here the use of water is the show's gimmick, but a rather feeble shower turns out to be far less effective than the imaginative techniques used to convey a full bathtub while keeping the stage almost completely dry.