Star Rating: *** Two friends, united by a love of music, are involved in an accident. Martin, the driver, is left unscathed but Chris, the passenger, ends up losing his hearing. The premise is rich in dramatic potential, but the action of Dan Rebellato's play begins several years after this pivotal event, and focuses on the effect of Chris's sudden death on his wife, Sarah, and sister Julia. Julia won't let Martin forget that fateful day, unable to forgive even though (or perhaps because) the two men had remained closely bonded by a shared passion, almost religious in nature - one that was characterised by writing, daydreaming and reminiscing once listening to records together was no longer possible.

Star Rating: ***
Two friends, united by a love of music, are involved in an accident. Martin, the driver, is left unscathed but Chris, the passenger, ends up losing his hearing. The premise is rich in dramatic potential, but the action of Dan Rebellato's play begins several years after this pivotal event, and focuses on the effect of Chris's sudden death on his wife, Sarah, and sister Julia. Julia won't let Martin forget that fateful day, unable to forgive even though (or perhaps because) the two men had remained closely bonded by a shared passion, almost religious in nature - one that was characterised by writing, daydreaming and reminiscing once listening to records together was no longer possible.

The grief-stricken Sarah (Pauline Lockhart) becomes fixated with a compilation tape and enlists Martin's help unravelling its meaning. Lockhart gives a fine performance, and her character has some beautiful lines, but it's Tom Thomasson's Martin who really intrigues. Awkward, detail-obsessed and prone to blurting out literal responses to rhetorical questions, he remarks with a note of defiance that Sarah "wouldn't be the first to point out his autistic tendencies". He is required to be punchbag and shoulder to cry on, but is given no real opportunity to grieve for the friend who understood him best.

Steven Webb's Chris haunts the stage, and while his physical performance - combining sign-language interpretation and choreography - is at times mesmerising, his almost-but-not-quite scenes with Sarah are reminiscent of a Hollywood weepie. The set and lighting are clever and stylish, as you'd expect from Suspect Culture, but there's an awful lot of plodding mystery to wade through.

From yesterday's later editions.