strangers, babies

A mystery is slowly unravelled in Linda McLean's new play strangers, babies. It's not a whodunit - the perpetrator is the fragile, emotionally damaged central character May (Gillian Kearney). The question is, what did she do?

The answer is only revealed towards the end of the 90 minute play, which comprises sharply contrasting duologues between May and five different men. Language is key here - there are few stage directions in a script composed entirely of fragments of dialogue.

In the opening scene, Liam Brennan gives a strong naturalistic performance as May's husband Dan, while Kearney recites her lines in a disjointed, mannered style. That this delivery has little in common with natural speech is perhaps intended to sign-post May's capacity for unnatural behaviour, but it is alienating and at times plain irritating.

Subsequent scenes with the woman's father (Sean Scanlon), internet date (Gavin Marshall) and brother (Iain Paterson) focus tightly on a single aspect of her character, while the final conversation sees Kearney in naturalistic mode and Garry Collins' Child Protection Officer transform from diligent and professional to strangely sinister.

The play's subject, when it eventually comes into focus, is a weighty one, ripe for careful, non-sensational exploration. However, Kearney's May simply doesn't convince as a three-dimensional character - instead, she's a blank canvas on which to project questions about atonement, punishment and rehabilitation.

McLean's play demands considerable investment from its audience but ultimately offers little in return. By the time the central question is answered it feels like the most important conversations are ones that we haven't been given eavesdropping access to.

The 'right' to have a child is a crucial and frustratingly unchallenged notion of our times. Strangers, babies skirts around it, shrugs, then wheels on an apathetic social worker. An opportunity missed.