****

The Father sits in a strappy sundress and isn't the hugging sort. After multiple therapy sessions, his adult son is determined to hug him anyway and to sit on his knee - but somehow, we know there'll be no tender resolution here. Against a set crammed with gashed, battered washing machines and cookers, which could pass as an arresting installation in any art gallery, American actors Raymond J. Barry (The Father) and Thomas Draper rivet our attention, with two compellingly physical performances. Re-enacting years of emotional abuse and violence, they shift effortlessly from black humour to lyricism, from skittishness to menace. This disturbing, ritualised, pas de deux is written by Barry, who seems to have taken lessons in domestic nightmare from Edward Albee.

Until October 14th, 6 p.m.