Apples

“Next time I get raped I'm having an abortion,” says the most unfortunate character in this adaptation of Richard Milward's novel, a story populated by unfortunate characters. But what's surprising about the play isn't the shocking dialogue—you get used to that—but the fact that, despite the horrible events it depicts, Apples leaves you smiling. 

The show addresses coming of age in the estates and underage drinking dens of Middlesbrough. Adam, an awkward kid with OCD, is in love with Eve, his gorgeous pill-popping classmate. They're at opposite ends of the social ladder, but they have some things in common: both have trouble at home and both endure the violent attention of Gary, a human cocktail of drugs and hormonal malevolence.

The themes are familiar: the agony and ecstasy of first love; children suffering at the hands of their parents; the pain of being a social outsider and the sacrifices the outsider will make to fit in. But it's the detail that makes it all so memorable. A hilarious take on the classic awkward school-disco; Adam's transformation from oddball to hoodie as he tries to catch Eve's eye; a young mother's horrific solution to her anxiety – it all has the ring of authenticity, both in the note-perfect script and in this talented young cast's devotion to it.

This isn't a lavish production: simple props are manipulated to capture an array of locations, while the cast don leering masks to play adults. But a combination of compelling performances and a lyrical evocation of adolescence make this one of the highlights of this year's Fringe.