By Tim Bearder I grabbed my coat, bustled through the door and grumbled all the way to the Burton Taylor. Like a spoilt child I want to be next door at the Playhouse watching the much hyped A Streetcar Named Desire. But, oh no, another reviewer on the list had snapped that one up nice and early. Here I was, arms folded, scowling. Pah! - what misery. But hang on, what's this? It's quite funny. Actually it's very funny and clever and dark and moody. How could I have doubted Alan Ayckbourn and a cast of talented Oxford Students - what a fool I've been? I delighted in being fixed in a mental fight with the playwright as he quipped with reality and hinted at half truths allowing his cast to let me into the secrets of his carefully crafted mystery just when he wanted them revealed. To look through the window into mind of the writer the glass must be crystal clear. The cast of this play never once allowed it to become frosty. I was particularly enamoured with Gerald (Dan Proctor) who put in a perfectly comical performance. Chris Chalk was very Hugh Grant and Cliodhna McAllister as Muriel was simply excellent. Finally Susan played by Caz Brown held everything together effortlessly allowing the play to swirl from the extreme light to the bleak dark. This is a play that has everything and if you fancy something a little different from the crowd round the corner you must go and see it. | 
