Earthquakes

Watching Headlong's production of Earthquakes at the National Theatre is like standing in the middle of an insanely vibrant and wild firework display. Hot, bright, nervy, exciting, eye catching. Bursts of activity happen with explosive force, lighting up the theatre. Scenes pulsate with energy, rhythm, emotion and passion. Unbridled hedonism mixes with controversial political activism, attention seeking rebellion, listless and wandering confusion, heated confrontation, vociferous opinion, oleaginous persuasion. It's all extreme. and extremely entrancing... as the drama swings from side to side of the theatre audience faces switch direction in tune, as if at a tennis match. The stage is arranged like a raised catwalk which snakes though the audience members who have bar stool seats in the pit of the theatre, at the centre of the action (the only seat to have if you ask me, and only £20). It's completely immersive, like being drunk. in a thrilling way.

But it's not all crown and no country - the high octane production completely compliments a story which weaves personal narratives (that of three sisters struggling for recognition, affection, affirmation, love, support and success in a fast paced, competitive, dog-eat-dog, ever-expanding world) with broader issues concerning humanity's suicidal quest to destroy the world. Abandonment, attention, love, support, selfishness - the themes and plot points are knitted together in such a clever way - you don't notice until you are presented with a cleverly designed blanket at the end. Just as you're thinking 'that's odd' or 'how does he even...?' there's a reveal that knocks you for six and makes everything come together. True, there are moments when it's a sort of crazed sci-fi, eco polemic, and ordinarily i wouldn't go near a play about climate change, but this only turns preachy (not to mention downright freaky, a touch Margaret Atwood on acid) in the last half an hour or so, so it's completely digestible, carried as it is by the more sane preceding 5/6ths of the play.

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From the same stable as Enron, this is much, much better if you ask me - with all round outstanding performances and a specially good singing number by the pram pushing parliament hill mothers. genius. if it doesn't get a West End transfer it'll be a travesty. but see it now while you can.