God's Garden

Anyone who distrusts the parable of the prodigal son for ­being too simple and smug is likely to enjoy Arthur Pita's version. God's ­Garden ­provides a ­sympathetic ­back story for the ­runaway slacker, who is shown ­leaving home to escape a forced ­marriage, but the ­production takes a more Old ­Testament-line on the issue of ­forgiveness. The ­parable is twisted into a black comedy of ­comeuppance and ­revenge. Jaco Costa's family may ­embrace him as he crawls home, soiled from his encounter with the fleshpots of the city, but shortly afterwards his ­beloved grandmother keels over and dies, and then his jilted bride sneaks into the house and murders him. Pita is Portuguese, and God's ­Garden is set in rural Madeira – a beguiling scene of ceramic tiles and potted plants designed by Jean-Marc Puissant. Even more beguiling are the ­talents Pita has assembled in his cast. Papa Costa is played with ­vulnerable dignity by blind performer José ­Figueira and Grandma Costa, a sprightly, ­crumpled pixie, by 82-year-old Diana Payne-Myers. Nuno Silva as Jaco not only dances but sings much of the accompanying fado music. Pita uses this cast with admirable invention. Jaco's runaway solo is ­masterly, graphically displaying his transition from country boy to clubber. There is a clever mix of the ­psychological and surreal in individual character ­studies, especially the bride's war dance, performed over Jaco's body. But for all its comedy and strangeness, the work doesn't find its rhythm. Pita wastes too much time on self-conscious oddities (the cast walking among the audience to show off their sex toys), when he should be giving us more character, story and choreography. The concept is lovely – it just doesn't always stay in focus.