‘Children become, while little, our delights, when they grow bigger they begin to fright’s. Their sinful Nature prompts them to rebel, and to delight in Paths that lead to Hell.’ An extract from 17th century poet and preacher John Bunyan’s Book for Boys and Girls still manages to capture the modern attitude towards youth: they’re alright until they get a hoody, weapon and contempt for life. But the inevitable decline away from purity shouldn’t begin until at least adolescence; teenagers commit crimes, but not children. Linda McLean’s (Shimmer, One Good Beating) latest work with the Traverse Theatre Company takes its inspiration from such events as the Mary Bell murders in the 60s, and, more recently, the horror surrounding James Bulger’s death, and the life of the accused when they cease to be children and have to make their own lives. 

Five scenes, all linked by May (Gillian Kearney). She and her husband (Liam Brennan) talk of their future, whilst all her dad (Sean Scanlan) wants to talk about is the past. She endeavours a sadomasochistic relationship with an internet date (Gavin Marshall), faces her inner demons with her brother (Iain Robertson), and greatest fears with her child protection officer (Garry Collins). This terrible event in her past haunts them all, but can they overcome it for a future?

With artistic director Philip Howard at the helm, it should be an exciting opener to the second half of the season, but sadly with a script that treads water, covering no real depth of character or story, this surfaces a little disappointing. May’s encounters with each of the men provides only a basic insight into her psychology; she shows regret, a desire for punishment, and to move on, but nothing beyond a 101 analysis of her emotional state. Extended metaphors of birds, trees and parks smack of attempts to hold the five scenes together with some sense of coherence and the stilted language jars with any emotion the actors are attempting to portray. Whilst Brennan and Collins are stuck with perhaps two of the dullest roles on stage and the father borders on cliché,  the only interesting scene is the confrontation with her brother and partner in crime. Kudos to designer Lisa Sangster for providing the most entertainment of the evening with her five moving light boxes in complimentary colours. Pretty. For what bills itself as a play about the psychology of a woman tormented by her past, this sorely fails, and what remains are some nice words “artistically” set on the page.

Runs from Friday 23 February