Mumburger

Would you eat a burger made from your dead mum’s flesh? Of course you bloody wouldn’t – what are you, some sort of incest cannibal? But what if mum was a militant vegan nutbag and it was her dying wish that you do? That’s the deep, dark question at the heart of this high-tempo, likeable enough two-hander by writer Sarah Kosar.

Ostensibly, it’a a rumination on human reactions to loss and grief. Really, though, it’s a chance to run a pair of actors through the wringer by placing them in an unthinkably awful situation and seeing how they do. The answer is ‘very well’ – daughter Tiffany (Rosie Wyatt) is convincingly confused, sickened and traumatised by her mother’s proposed ‘digestive memorial’, while widower Hugh’s (Andrew Frame) hour-long arc from shellshocked wreck to man-learning-to-get-on-with-things is so gently traversed he must surely run on a timer.

The problem is, it all feels like an exercise; a – ahem – meaty premise for a writing workshop, rather than something to pin a whole show to. Attempting to do so results in a piece of theatre that’s satisfying, if not especially fortifying.