Like the soldiers it depicts, Nigel Swain's play moves fast and hits hard. A "Brick" is the smallest unit of the British Army, usually four men, and Swain places just such a team at the middle of a conspiracy during a period of civil unrest on the British mainland. The story is exciting, and reeks of authentic jargon and soldierly testosterone (Swain worked in military intelligence for eight years). It's also hopelessly confusing, and Michael Ruta-Moxham's pacy production does little to clarify the nature and depth of the conspiracy. One isn't supposed to say this sort of thing about plays, but, tidied up and pruned by 20 minutes, The Brick might make an excellent, one-hour TV drama.
The time is somewhere in the near future, and the army and police have joined forces to combat a programme of riots organised by a mysterious organisation named Strike Force. Captain Thomas (Charlie Simpson) is put in charge of the Brick charged with arresting the leader of Strike Force: he also has strong contacts with a mole inside the organisation, and it's never clear quite where his sympathies lie. Swain endows Thomas with ambivalence, and a wistful way of speaking, which is starkly at odds with the other grunts' blunt, barrack-room language.
Simpson's performance is a little too knowing, but it's nowhere near as contrived as the stiff-upper-lipped stereotype offered by David Craik as Thomas's commanding officer.
Ruta-Moxham's production comes with a superb, atmospheric soundtrack by Richard Hammarton, and a cleverly economical set by Jason Southgate of white corrugated-plastic screens which can be configured to suggest a number of hostile locations. There is a cast of 12 which, as usual on the fringe, is a mixed blessing: the numbers look impressive, but good performances are few and far between. Swain's play is invigoratingly unusual, but needs a bit more spit, polish and discipline.
Brick
Cert: 15
