Concrete Playground

A good night at the theatre is like a night in the garden of Gethsemane: your ideologies are shaken up and you are forced to doubt your beliefs, but because of that you come away with a deeper understanding of things.

A night with David Hare can have a similar effect. He writes dialogue that is sharper than razor blazes, with which he cuts through the crap to reveal uncomfortable truths about the way the world is.

"It's an organised hypocrisy, it's called democracy,"� says embattled Home Secretary Meredith Guest as she tries to explain her politics to her ideologically rebellious daughter Suzette; and Gethsemane essentially is a play about multi-levelled moral hypocrisy.

While the critique of Tony Blair's corrupt party fundraising is not particularly timely, the exposure of the degraded state of modern journalism and politics as well as our society's perpetual cynicism are pertinent and provocative.

This is one of director Neil Armfield's final productions during his time in charge at Belvoir and he has brought together a shining cast who execute the perfectly crafted script memorably. The set and lighting design are also worthy of note; while both are sparse and restrained they work together to subtly transport us around the offices and living rooms of Downing Street to a buzzing cocktail bar and the Sicilian seashore.

Hare's cold and unforgiving world is offset by the honesty of the relationship between Suzette and her ex-teacher Lori Drysdale, but as usual his attempts at touching the heartstrings don't come off as well as the intellectual appeals: at the end of the three-hour journey there is not a dampened eye in the audience, but minds are buzzing for hours.

Photo by Heidrun Lohr