Material girls get shirty

Five ladies stand up to The Man and learn something about themselves in this early play from Frank McGuinness. But this fine production at the Arcola still fails to hide the fact that the young playwright, too, had a bit to learn.

The Arcola, formerly a textile factory itself, is arranged stunningly for the show. The audience enters through racks of shirts to discover the "girls" at work in their struggling Donegal factory.

The innovative staging belies a conventional play. The girls are a diverse crew: dotty Una, hard-nosed Ellen, mouthy Vera. Each one has the standard foul, funny mouth and heart of gold. Brought to life by a great cast, their warmth and sisterhood shine though in a chat-packed first half where the McGuinness wit is on full display.

The second act, in which the girls seize control of the factory to protest against proposed redundancies, is less satisfying. McGuinness backs away from wider, political considerations. The factory boss is an easy villain and the union rep a slippery cipher. We are invited to cheer on the girls' proud defiance, without ever being sure what they're hoping to achieve.

It proves a weak backdrop to a series of personal conflicts and discoveries that feel more and more arbitrarily imposed on the situation in hand. Towards the end, it is suggested that Ellen's desire to negotiate is somehow to do with her children dying a few decades back. After that contorted twist of character logic, you know the best is behind.

The Factory Girls