Derelict

Awkward profundity and angry proto-hippies are the currency of choice in this rather cluttered play. It follows an ensemble of furious young things competing to find the best use of an empty Victorian mansion. In a nod to William Golding, they propose differing visions of how best to utilise the house as an art space, splitting the nascent collective.

The narrative is a gradual boil of competing agendas and youthful spirit, although rather a lot of time is spent developing the group dynamic. This is done well, but the lack of narrative turns does mean that the work lacks punch. An unexpected revelation in the final few minutes goes some way to rectifying this, but Derelict is too lacking in cogent exposition in its early stages to trace a genuinely absorbing story from beginning to end.

A small performance space conjures the bric-a-brac squat environment effectively, though it does occasionally leave the numerous performers shuffling in and out of each other’s way, rendering arguments laden with counter-culture clichés held at uncomfortably close quarters.

This is a strikingly earnest play which does well to juggle a wide array of art-protest themes. Writing irony-free about such a well-parodied artistic scene is no mean feat. Minus points for the obligatory Skins-esque party scene—complete with characters who are so wasted and throbbing electro beats—but a solid twist and engaging character interplay rescue this from being an anonymous addition to the Fringe repertoire.