Charlotte Jones's second play is just terrific: a multi-layered tale of women in crisis that's neither sanctimonious nor condescending.
The interlocking stories of Yorkshire sisters in 1908 and female flatmates in the cruel present deservedly made her name, with its wit, its sinewy dialogue and its astute understanding of what did not, after all, change so much between the sexes over the course of the 20th century.
Of course, such a fiercely intelligent play makes demands on the actors, and here almost all are required to play dual roles and flip between eras within scenes. Claire Wyatt does well as simple Yorkshire lass Clara and screwed-up modern Clootie, but Sophie Franklin lacks the hard edge necessary for Clootie's flatmate, a seemingly together cartographer who is really just a less obvious mess than her friend.
Alex has put her gaga mother (Elizabeth Holland) in a home and she's wracked with guilt; the contrast between the forlorn modern girls and their forebears, protected and affectionately bullied by their grandmother (Holland again), isn't as sharp as it should be, which makes their similar treatment of and by the men (Alan Turkington, lithe and graceful as a stud across the ages; Robert Bennison, too lacking in charisma even for his downtrodden roles) rather less poignant. And Yasuko Hasegawa's dull set adds nothing to the drama.
Until Feb 7, Jermyn Street Theatre, 16b Jermyn Street SW1, Mon to Sat 8pm, Sat mats 4pm, £12, £10 concs. Tel: 020 7287 2875. Tube: Piccadilly Circus
