Dispiriting times

What a frustratingly elliptical hour-and-a-half this is. The second piece in the Bush's mini-season of works by Simon Stephens promised great things, after the warmly received, pub-set, malesin-crisis drama Christmas. Yet One Minute leaves its audience with nothing more than a dispiriting feeling of bemusement.

Perhaps this was inevitable, as its five characters are bemused and anchorless, too, cast alone and adrift on the ebbs and flows of life in the harsh metropolis. There is no quirky Lost in Translation-style romance to sugar the pill of 21st-century dislocation here though, as Stephens offers an examination of the aftermath of a seemingly motiveless event.

Daisy Schults, aged 11, has disappeared. Her professor mother is numb with grief; the two police officers (disappointingly, one a hardened pro with a collapsing home life, the other an eager young rookie) have few leads to work on and the increasingly hysterical words of an unreliable witness to wade through. The witness also knows the waitress who serves one of the police officers his daily excess consumption of alcohol. And there we have it: five helpless people, buffeted by London living.

The short scenes frequently end in the middle of lines, narratives and events so that the "city in flux" idea can be drilled home. Gordon Anderson's undeniably stylish production leaves some actors in shadow on the stage while others take their turns in the light, all to a background of Julian Swales's haunting music.

The performances are commendable, especially Lucy Black's neurotic witness and Teresa Banham's mother, whose gentle smile barely conceals a world of sadness. Yet as so much of the emotion on offer lacks due reason or cause, it's ultimately impossible for us to understand or care about this random sequence of events.

Until February 28. Information: 020 7610 4224.

One-Minute Films: Workshop