Nut review, The Shed

Debbie Tucker Green's writing is always entertaining, but her intentions are not always clear. Nut, debuting at the National Theatre's, The Shed, is no exception. Hidden in the thrilling, staccato, dialogue, must be something deeper, but an hour after the show's end, I'm no wiser. This may not matter when the first sixty of the full eighty minutes, are so on-point.

Nut cracker

We open on reclusive Elayne and stroppy Aimee arguing over the manner of their deaths and the details of their funerals. Aimee, hinting at Elayne's continual self harming, sneers that she at least will die of natural causes. The forty-somethings skewer each other, imposing controls on what's allowed in their eulogies and who's allowed in the church. The exchange is toe-curlingly wonderful. When Elayne's young relatives, Devon and Trey turn up, Aimee is isolated; but then they pull out the cigarettes... Suddenly the three adults, Devon and the women, are involved in a complex series of dares.

Cigarettes represent unity and enduring bonds in Nut, appearing again in the second act when an ex-husband arrives to collect his daughter for Wednesday access. She's at the shop, providing a window of opportunity for her parents to shred each other for a perceived lack of parenting nous. When, in the midst of ferocious invective, a cigarette is shared and exhalations entwine, we can see passions still run deep.

In conclusion: In the third act, Elayne offers to hurt her sister - the ex wife - with a cigarette. Why, and what does burning signify? What does any of it signify? Fabulous writing with matching performances from Sophie Stanton, Anthony Welsh, Gershwyn Eustache Jnr, Nadine Marshall and Sharlene Whyte almost make the question immaterial. Almost.


The Shed, Tickets

The Shed, South Bank, London SE1 9PX.  Run ends 5 December.