Twentysomething

Twentysomething is an entertaining if unsubstantial play about young people in Britain today. Its message is painfully clear: despite leading comfortable and well-off lives, they still persist in complaining about their lot.

Six college friends meet up in a bar: two are back home from university, one’s just returned from India, one is saving to go travelling and two have never left, becoming party animals in their hometown. They’re cut from stereotypes but they’re amusingly played by the young cast, who show real promise. But while the play's observations on friends growing apart ring true, it’s hard to believe this group were ever friends at all. In a way, that seems to be the point: why do people who grow up to be so different persist in being friends? But they’re reduced to caricatures with no discernible common interests. The dialogue isn’t convincing either, and resultantly it’s hard to really care about them when they don’t seem to care about each other.

However, there’s a fantastically choreographed scene in the middle of Twentysomething, a hectic fast-forward of the group’s drunken antics that capitalises on the cast’s agile talents. And the play makes some wry comments about the transition from youth to adulthood and the new knowledge this brings – such as the ability to distinguish between wines. But these enlightening moments—and its poignant ending—aren’t quite enough to make up for its weak structure.