A riff on the idea of life being a series of reassuringly familiar, yet despairingly empty actions . . . Birch’s play is a fluid poem, meandering through repetitive days, rolling through thoughts and speeches with a nicely judged turn of phrase
Daisy Bowie-Sell
Time Out
A play of strong poetic feeling ... the play has a strong sense of claustrophobia and the idea that consumer society results in a living death, with all of us sleepwalking towards the grave, runs through the events like a slash of red lipstick ... there is a subversive joy in its gestures of anger, and some of its stage images linger to haunt the imagination — just like its title.
Aleks Sierz
Arts Desk