Ann Henning Jocelyn’s ponderous play about bridging the gap between Catholics and Protestants, and between stroppy children and their parents, begins in 1922 with the War of Irish Independence and ends in the present day. The plodding dialogue feels like a translation from the Swedish. The production is painfully slow. Two actors are miscast and the final sentimental moment rings so ridiculously false that there were audible groans from the audience.
The Arts Theatre is in a prime location in the West End’s theatreland. There was a time when it was famous for its repertoire of modern plays and classical revivals by such playwrights as Cocteau, Giraudoux, Hellman, O’Neill, Orton and Beckett. Waiting for Godot had its London premiere there in 1955. What the Arts Theatre has needed for some time now is a permanent artistic director with the vision to put on worthwhile plays with good actors which are on a par with productions at the Donmar and the Almeida.