'You know... when a structure has lost its essence but retained its shape, the geologists call it: a Pseudomorph. A false shape. That's our marriage.' Mr and Mrs Elliot have imprisoned themselves within a domestic incarceration of marriage, family and society's twitching curtains. Battling through their self-made entrapment for the sake of the kids, they soon begin to destroy each other through an ugly routine of rows, affairs and suicidal blackmail. Written with a controlled irony and an underlying compassion for its tormented characters, Ted Whitehead's bold and unflinching play asks questions about the choices we make to fit in with social conventions - questions that are just as relevant now as they were in 1972. |