The subject of Mad Forest is the Romanian revolution of last December, the build-up to it and its continuing aftermath, as experienced by ordinary people. Caryl Churchill, Mark Wing-Davey and the cast of students from the Central School of Speech and Drama had been to Romania to glean at first hand, not the front-line heroics and power struggles as seen on television, but the little comedies, tragedies, absurdities, legends, songs and jokes that were the flotsam on the tidal wave.

The play is in three parts: before, during and after. In the first act, we are shown a society forced to sleep-walk through years of darkness and queues. There is no detectable ground-swell of resistance as might have been expected, only the reality of a daily grind deprived of hope and information. Someone whispers “Down with Ceausescu” in the food queue, but no one responds. Someone procures an illegal abortion with the aid of dollars. Someone scrapes an egg off the floor and saves it. There is much candle-light and heavy smoking. When the revolution happens in Act Two, it is as if it came as a total surprise. The events of December 20 to 25 are coldly recalled, in broken English, with hindsight and a shrug, as if in a court of inquiry. This is no climactic eruption of a people so oppressed they could endure no longer; it is a patch-work of reminiscences, mostly from bystanders who were drawn into the gunfire.

The sense of people being taken by surprise and for a ride, comes over most strongly in the third act. Was it a revolution or a putsch? This question, put by a mental patient and dismissed at first, comes to dominate the play. Was the revolution hijacked by politicians? Was it planned in advance? What did the young people die for? The third act also contains the best scenes, but, surprisingly given the company's thoroughness of research and the play's up-to-date semi-documentary style, the text has not developed along with recent events. There is no analysis of Iliescu's landslide victory in the elections, or of the economic dilemma—free enterprise or jobs; most seriously, there is no reference to the miners' invasion of Bucharest in June, at the request of the newly elected President. Most Romanians regard this as a historic counter-revolution, confirming, with clubs, in whose gift the government of Romania lies.

The individual scenes, involving legends, time-leaps, nightmares, “street” acting, are vintage Churchill. The dialogue between a dog and a vampire, both beneficiaries of the blood of the revolution, is a beautifully written cameo and a chillingly dramatic vignette shows the nightmare of the “queen” or mother of Romania, deprived by soldiers of jewels, furs and then limbs, and ending as a terrified torso, mouthing amplified crowd noise.

As a young people's response to a young people's revolution, Churchill's play was more immediate and involving in its first run at the Central School in June. The Royal Court encourages smoother, more assured performances and the stage is further away. The timing of the one-liners in a vacuum of silence, is less sharp, and the long second act seems very long indeed, bringing the revolution almost grinding to a halt.