Pandas

The mating habits of the critters at the heart of Rona Munro’s new play could hardly be in sharper contrast with those of its far less appealing human characters, who are happy to settle for second best in order to avoid ending up alone.

The stories of three inter-connected couples are told via a fairly confusing plot about dodgy business dealings, unintentional partner-swapping and the revenge of a scorned lover. On the whole, though, the six characters don’t inspire a lot of sympathy, and the stakes don’t feel high even when one of them is having a near-death experience.

The undisputed highlight of Pandas is the extended scene in which Meg Fraser’s entomologist (she “studies wee beasties”) makes her first appearance. The ten minutes or so that follow are a masterclass in comic writing and performance that earns gales of laughter and spontaneous applause. The trouble is, the rest of the play can’t compete. And the fact that the prized rugs upon which much depends look like cheap blankets made from a fabric loaded with sociological meaning proves distracting.

Munro has worked for more than two decades with solo performer Fiona Knowles – the two are MSFits theatre company – so it’s perhaps no surprise that it’s the monologue of a marginalised, middle-aged woman that really strikes a chord in this play, not the quirky courtship of a young couple or some unlikely bonding over plate patterns.

Rugs problems aside, Liz Cooke’s design matches the play’s whimsical tone, but the performances are a mixed bag, and there’s a general lack of punch to Rebecca Gatward’s direction that leaves the production lumbering towards its conclusion.