As a conflict rages between the opposing factions of ‘Blues’ and ‘Greys’, army doctor Anne (Ella Blackburn) is launched on a meandering journey through the war-scape. There she encounters a range of increasingly absurd characters in increasingly absurd scenarios. As Anne is forced to confront the unpleasant truths that lurk behind the war effort, cracks begin to appear in her beliefs.

This staging of Basden’s whizzing commentary on the ultimately ridiculous nature of war, while endowed with the capacity to be wry and engaging, sadly misses its mark. As a script that lacks a clear narrative – the focus being on the strength of the varied characters and the meaning they embody, a certain sharpness of style and direction is required to hold the attention of the audience and build momentum in each episodic scene. Unfortunately, this is something this production does not quite achieve.

The jumping nature of the play demands pace, and while Director Olivia Gillman has clearly strived towards this, the lines often end up feeling rushed, with Basden’s message becoming blurred in the process. This is never more important than at the conclusion of the play, where mounting ridiculousness is not met with the firm direction required to keep the performance on-track. Although full of excellent comedy, the show suffers from a distinct lack of tight comic timing. A smattering of punchy one-liners raise laughs from the audience, but again these are too often improperly timed and soon swallowed up in the racing dialogue.

Blackburn does well as the bewildered Dr Anne. Indeed, as is the case for almost all the cast, many of her scenes, particularly those with air-headed dance teacher Sasha (Anna Bullard) and the blundering generals (Henry Phillips and Charlotte Husnjak), show great promise, but feel underdeveloped. The deliveries of the many characters seem to generally persist on one level, occasionally switching to very sudden spells of anger or grief. While perhaps intended to play into an overall sense of snappiness and absurdity, the effect is not as captivating as the team may have intended.

A mention must go to Rachel Loughran and Marlie Haco, whose skilful performances, whether as a self-interested protestor or front-line entertainment diva, land well. Haco and Loughran’s morbidly comic scene as two cleaners, sorting through a pile of assorted hands and heads when happened upon by the disgusted Dr Anne, is well-delivered and undoubtedly the show’s best. It would have been great to see this potential for darkness and dry humour more keenly exploited throughout the rest of the show.

Jack Parham’s set is imaginative and, given the diversity of the scenes into which Dr Anne is thrust, used well. Two wooden bed frames moved fluidly by the actors between scenes make for everything ranging from an army church to a torture dungeon, though the company’s lack of a stage manager is felt acutely in some of the clunkier transitions. One can’t help but feel that the space is distinctly underused, with the actors’ movements through the Playroom feeling a little confused. Equally, more could easily have been made of Jacob Baldwin’s sound and Lara Wolfe’s lighting, which are largely invariant and contribute little to crafting the sense of uniqueness that each scene deserves.

Altogether, this production of There is A War is a bold attempt to capture the absurdist complexity of Tom Basden’s reflections on the troubling peculiarity of war, but it fails to bring out the best in its cast and technical crew.

There is a War is on at the Corpus Playroom at 7.00pm, 23-27 January