A highly personal but intellectually sophisticated account from a 50-year-old woman that might be read as a manifesto for sex-positive, even body-positive, feminism.

Politics, books, and a spot of "green" knitting.

The playwright's intimate knowledge of the life of an Aussie expatriate in London – both its physical texture and emotional tugs – shines through.

The play’s passionate extravagences are here given full rein; there's much flinging of arms, much being swept into a loved-one's arms.

Start with a laugh, end with a cry of rage.

I was sadly reminded of the general inefficacy of, in particular, US aid.

Where are all the women bloggers? Take a look and see.

I left this production feeling that it had a simple message: "There is terrible suffering. You will watch this terrible suffering."

If there's one single lesson from the play it is that Philip Larkin wasn't saying anything new about parents and children.

The "hero", Matthew, arrives on stage dust-spattered and debris-battered, having escaped from a World Trade Center Tower on 9/11.