"Angel". Pilch

My esteemed colleague Anuj has already reviewed this show - and by the way, Anuj is approaching the end of his PHD (President's Husband's Drama) tenure, so I'd like to take this opportunity to say a very big and shamelessly public "Thank You" to him for his brilliant, perceptive and gently witty pieces over the last several months. Thank you, Anuj.

Anyway, since we've already covered it, I just wanted to add a few words having seen Angel this evening, because it's so good I can't restrain my enthusiasm.

Co-writer and actor Susie Weidmann always gives her piercing and uncompromising best. She has an instinctive purity as an actor, a confrontational but relaxed presence that should take her far. In this play she wrangles both horror and comedy from her character with what seem to be no more than offhand remarks and everyday gestures. Her script had me trapped, stretched to breaking point, between the twin poles of laughter and tears. One moment she's idly interested in the fact that a nearby train passenger seems to be having a wank in the open, the next she's begging to be baptised in case the lump below her breast turns out to be cancer.

Weidmann's role, Sara, is played by a total of four different actors, reliving significant moments from the character's past. And every single one of them is, in their own unique way, quite brilliant.

Catty Claire, whose doomed, incestuous heroine Annabella in 'Tis Pity She's a Whore last term was horrifyingly powerful, plays a young Sara the first time she meets her husband-to-be, Angel. Her initial caution gives way to intrigued attraction over their ten-minute meet-cute, and it's again both funny and touching. There's one lovely section where Angel tells Sara about how some school bullies once forced him to go all the way to Heathrow on the Piccadilly Line by himself, otherwise they'd kill him. 'But if you were by yourself, why didn't you just get off at the next stop?' she asks. 'Well, I didn't want to die', he answers. And Claire conjures up a look that can only be described as mingled amusement and dawning affection. It's not spoken, but it's there for everyone to feel.

Sara number three is played by Rose Martin in what is probably the most satisfying and complex scene in the play. Rather than a duologue, this section features four characters in all, each of them producing different reactions from the half-amused, half-appalled Sara. Yet again, the subtlety and warmth of the performances is simply irresistible.

And Sara Four, now pregnant with Angel's child, is played by one of Oxford's undisputed acting superstars, Izzy Lever. Lever starred in the very first show I ever reviewed, Skin, which also coincidentally was about a woman with cancer. (I don't know what sort of degree she is doing, but it seems to be going on a very long time, and as far as I'm concerned, the longer the better.) Like her co-stars, Lever navigates complex mood-shifts with deceptive ease. What they all have in common is wit, warmth and an underlying weirdness. This is unmistakeably the same character, brought to life in highly distinctive, individual ways.

And all that is just one character.

I must also mention Purav Menon, who plays the love of Sara's life, Angel. He is new to me, but he captures the persona of a gentle-hearted, slightly bumbling but self-aware guy to perfection. He is so easy to fall in love with, like a young Hugh Grant. And Nate Wintraub, another actor who knows the Pilch inside-out, plays five different characters with tongue-in-cheek sincerity and humour. Finally, Rufus Shutter, who played the creepy sex-pest Lib in Coco Cottam's most recent play Nuts, revisits similar territory with the preeningly unbearable Ryan. Careful you don't get typecast, Rufus - but you do this so well.

None of these performances would be possible without a director who knows exactly what actors need. And in Joe Rachman Angel has exactly that. Joe has blazed a theatrical trail himself since he arrived in Oxford. I think this is the first play he's directed. I hope it's not the last.

And finally, what about the script? It's an incredibly simple idea: a woman on a tube journey relives some of her life's most significant train-based moments with her soul-partner, while on her way to find out if she's going to die. But that simple framework is more than enough to support an array of scenes that range from the absurd to the comic, the philosophical and the despairing. Constantly leavened with observational comedy nuggets, Angel is a pleasure from start to finish. Would the structure of the play be even better if it felt a little less random, and if there were some kind of (but not a boringly obvious) payoff? Maybe, maybe not. Narrative structure is a funny thing. It's easy to want more of it, but when you've got more you often regret asking for it, a bit like chocolate mousse. Perhaps something to think about though.

Dammit. I only meant to write a few words. But I couldn't hold back. Angel gave me wings.