The Circle Line and Plastic England

A double-bill of bleak, philosophical plays based around loss and disillusionment in the modern world, The Circle Line & Plastic England have some pretty creative theatrical ideas on offer.

The opening Circle Line focuses on obnoxious investment banker Michael Gibson. Ably played by Rob Ward, he's your stereotypical conceited city boy, complete with Oxbridge nostalgia and unhappy marriage. Losing his family and his job on the day of the 7 July bombings shakes his cold, dispassionate worldview to the core, and triggers some deep soul-searching.

It's his feminine "inner self", constantly by his side on stage, which really makes the play interesting. As "Michaela" explains her existence to the audience through a bewildering scientific discourse on subatomic physics, it's clear that this is a play which requires some brainpower to keep up with.

The way the two characters interact as Michael's world collapses around him is fascinating to watch. Michaela tries to reconnect Michael with a world he feels increasingly distant from, while he aggressively tries to isolate himself even further.  

Plastic England is compelling, but lacks the creativity of the preceding play. The main character, wheelchair-bound Jim Wheelwright, isn't particularly easy to sympathise with as he sorrowfully narrates the story of his life and his wife's death. Throughout this, he laments the disappearance of the England he loved.

The production spends a lot of time dwelling on the themes of decline and guilt, building up to Jim's cathartic confession to his carer Mavis. It's engaging, but The Circle Line is likely to be the more memorable half of the overall show.