IT'S not every show that sends you home with a duster, a cuddly rat and a certificate promising extreme optimism for the year ahead. Such is my haul from the Market of Optimism, a series of stalls trading in feel-good commodities purchased with 10 Neuro notes withdrawn (at no cost) from a human cash machine.
By Gary Young. Boilerhouse review.
LIKE her classical namesake, Cassandra has trouble getting people to believe her. It's hard even for the audience to take her at her word. Are we to accept as real the faithless lover she chats to in her bathroom? Or is he just an invisible friend, like the more reticent partner who seems to take his place?
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