"After Independence" (Arcola Theatre, 16 May)

If you only see one play this year about Zimbabwean farm redistribution, consider your options carefully.

It's a weird thing what we will and won't accept, symbolism-wise. In the name of subtlety, I think we like a little bit of interference in the signal: we enjoy a little bit of things left unstated, rather than coming down like the helicopter in Miss Saigon. To that end, I will mildly note that the central farm in this play is called "Independence"; and that at one moment a character will exclaim, rather magnificently, "You're taking Independence from me!" For those who enjoy figuring things out at the theater, this is rather the equivalent of a ready-made meal. Symbols even overwhelm their literal counterparts in the world, as with a pair of boots that (allegedly) could not be made clean when first worn, but now sparkle beautifully. These boots needed either to branch out into magic realism--maybe they also sprout a bridge to the moon?--or to have been pruned.

There's a great play to be written on this topic: a well-meaning government official from a corrupt regime arrives to strongarm a white settler family off their land while observing the framework of legality. But the family barely exist as plot points, and are described like the boxes ("farmer who was good to his workers," "daughter who can shoot as well as any man") their characters came in.

I fully expect to see many of the cast members in better things, Stefan Adegbola in particular. But what can actors offer to a play like this, other than professionalism? (I caught Australia and EastEnders in the international assortment of accents mustered--but everyone did seem to be trying.) This is the sort of play where people are dying of cancer--stage 4 plot necessity--but have neglected to inform their children; where chemotherapy is refused because fathers don't care much for doctors. That kind of thing: "it's really a shame I learned of my father's cancer the same weekend that the man came to repossess the farm; oh well, at least mother seems happy..."

And yet, among the banalities, some good things. However strong the inclination to snigger, I defy anyone in a dark room to have a shotgun pointed at them and not feel affected. This aligning of the audience with the violent gangs at the farm's edges, who constantly set these settlers on edge, was an arresting detail from the beginning of the play; it's a pity this never went anywhere, with the gangs becoming more like a weather system moving in or out at the plot's necessity.