Chris O’Connell’s new play, presented by his Theatre Absolute company, is noisy, chaotic and as subtle as a
jackboot to the crotch. But it has urgency and intelligence, and Matt Aston’s sweaty, hard-edged production
grips. In this dystopian near-future, the wellspring of hatred is the wealth gap. O’Connell avoids dwelling on
the historical and religious causes of conflict, and so oversimplifies. Instead, he depicts a world polluted by
brutality, its inhabitants dehumanised by rampant capitalism; and air, sea and land all contaminated by the
camps that symbolise hatred and division.

He also raises the issue of censorship: horrified by the torture he not only witnesses but in which he is forced
to participate, Alex plans to tell all in a book and, with Tom, flees the camp. But will anyone want to listen?
The evocation of control by propaganda and fear is almost Orwellian.

An opposing view is offered by the ruthless realpolitik of the camp’s general and a pregnant female
interrogator, whose willing espousal of techniques designed to terrify, agonise and humiliate is motivated
by her determination to make the world safe for her unborn child, her natural maternal instinct corrupted
by unnatural economic and political systems.

The argument is less rigorous than it could be, because those characters are underwritten – as is the suspect
with whom Alex unsuccessfully attempts to make a connection. Still, Aston’s staging, with its oppressive
sound and lighting and its stylised violence, delivers the play’s punch despite its dialectical drawbacks.
There are strong performances from Stephen Hudson as Alex, driven from complacency to action and the
edge of madness, and from Daniel Hoffmann-Gill as greenhorn Tom.

More than 500 camps exist to extract information from those disenfranchised by society – extraction by
torture. Into one such camp come Tom (Daniel Hoffmann-Gill), a squaddie who signed up to get back at the
‘scum’ who’ve been responsible for the deaths of his friends, and Alex (Stephen Hudson), a translator
(and lieutenant) who has drifted into the job. What they find frightens and appalls them, driving them to
act against the regime.

While Tom’s rebellion is born out of a lack of understanding, Alex takes a moral stance that puts him at
serious odds with his immediate colleagues and superiors. The camp commander Major Chaudry
(Abdel Akhtar) and the sinister, pregnant interrogator Helen (Kate Ambler) face Alex down with their
own moral arguments for torture and protecting their way of life at any cost. Completing the characters
is Demissie (Damian Lynch) – a prisoner being interrogated who has his own particular reasons for having
acted against the system.

The parallels with current events at Guantanamo Bay and Orwell’s 1984 are clear throughout this splendidly
realised play. Strong performances from all participants – particularly Daniel Hoffmann-Gill as the
bemused / angry / homesick Tom, and Stephen Hudson as the impotent but outraged Alex – create
believable characters driven by realistic motives. The major question of clashing moral standpoints
is left unresolved as individuals attempt to fight a system that is convinced of its own correctness.

A stark set and invasive sound create and maintain an atmosphere of tension and oppression and
Matt Aston is to be congratulated on his strong direction of this thought provoking play. Theatre Absolute
continues to produce excellent work – much of it written by Chris O’Connell – well into their second decade.
This production demonstrates that strong characterisation and energetic performance combine to present
excellent, though-provoking theatre for their audiences.

[Simon Berry]

Zero is a hard hitting, fast and furious production exploring the ethics of torture in a chaotic world.

Under the leadership of city writer Chris O’Connell and director Matt Aston, Coventry-based Theatre
Absolute delivers an intense and uncompromising drama centred on doomed characters facing a battle
with their conscience.

The play resisted the temptation to offer a biased account and left me feeling sympathy for both the wardens
and prisoners in the camps who had committed atrocious crimes.

Set 20 years in the future, the play imagines a world where wealthy societies use torture camps to protect
their interests – at any cost – from those who aim to blow it apart.

At this one particular camp – Zero – Alex, a lieutenant translator, decides he wants to let the world know
“the story” about the camp’s gruesome activities but, by doing so, puts his own life in danger.

The play poses the idea that capitalism is slowly ripping the heart out of us, and reducing us to savages
and I certainly walked away with a lot to think about.

A gripping piece of theatre.

****

[Christina Savvas]

But whereas pieces like the Car trilogy dealt with alienated youth in contemporary society, Zero takes
a wider world-view and reflects on where the war on terror might have taken us 20 years into the future.
The war is now being waged on behalf of something called the Global Economic Alliance against an
enemy identified only as 'the others'. With terrorist attacks at epidemic levels, scruples about the use
of torture have evidently been further relaxed.

Two naive recruits turn up at a Guantanamo Bay style facility called Camp Zero. Tom is a private who has
signed up for adventure in the time honoured tradition, while Alex, an officer, is here to act as an interpreter
between prisoners and their interrogators. Their story is told retrospectively after they have gone on the run,
apparently carrying a book in which Alex has documented the abuses, including murder disguised as suicide,
he has witnessed. Written in O'Connell's familiar stripped-down style, integrated with an edgy electronic score
by Andy Garbi, it has a visceral power which is counterbalanced by the odd and sometimes comic relationship
of Tom and Alex.

Though fellow fugitives, they are far from being on the same wavelength. While Alex has been shocked out of
his shallow pragmatism, Tom's instincts are far more self-centred, more inclined to swing towards the course
of action which at one particular moment seems likeliest to restore things to normality.

This relationship, which draws exceptional performances from Daniel Hoffmann-Gill and Stephen Hudson,
gives foreground depth to what might otherwise seem an overly-schematic play. And it is perhaps interesting,
given current news events, that O'Connell seems to root his bleak future in globalisation and the reaction to its
effects, rather than religious or political ideologies.

[Terry Grimley]

The hard hitting drama is set in a futuristic prison camp where inmates are brutally interrogated for
information (similiarities with Guantanamo Bay are inevitable), and an unlikely alliance is formed
between translator Alex (the excellent Stephen Hudson) and newly stationed squaddie Tom (played by
a charismatic Daniel Hoffmann-Gill, "isn't it?").

The former has borne witness to the degrading torture of detainees - one scene literally turned the
auditorium cold - and wants to speak out, but it's no easy task.

Nor is watching Chris O'Connell's compelling play, especially during the chaotic opening when all
characters speak at once. But beyond the violence (none of which is explicit) and constant tension
there is a real heart to this piece, most notably in the developing relationship between stiff-upper lipped
Alex and working class lad Tom.

Each character is brilliantly fleshed out and performed to ensure you live through the nightmare with them.

****

[Steve Adams]

Alex (Stephen Hudson), a translator at Camp Zero, initially tries to keep himself detached from his everday
activities but comes to believe that these are counter-productive and may actually contribute to, rather
than resolve, the violence in society. Tom (Daniel Hoffman-Gill) is a product of that society and has joined
the Camp with a desire for revenge against those he sees as having offended. The play explores the
consequences of the two characters starting to question the system.

Zero succeeds in demonstrating the dehumanising effects of a capitalist society. It is less effective though,
in examining the morality of terror or of torture. Prisoner Demissie (Damian Lynch) makes clear that his
actions were not part of a systematic attempt to replace one belief system with another but an empty act
of rage generated by financial frustration. Major Chaudry (Abdel Akhtar) puts forward the bland argument
that torture can be justified if it avoids greater atrocities.

Meanwhile, Interrogator Helen (Kate Ambler) has moved from helping the victims of terror to using
torture against offenders because the situation is so desperate that direct action of some kind is required.
Neither explanation justifies why one person would agree to commit obscene acts against another.

The play has dark humour and presenting it as a satire might have helped the audience ignore some of the
gaps in logic such as a disaffected employee being undetected whilst writing a condemnation of the system.
However, this might have reduced the impact of the realistic torture sequences which, in director
Matt Aston’s naturalistic production, are very disturbing and generated vocal reactions from the audience.

The relentlessly oppressive atmosphere begins as the audience enters the theatre to find the cast, shrouded
in shadow, staring at them. Throughout the play Andy Garbi’s soundscapes (eerie tones, distorted screams,
mechanical noises) keep the audience on edge.

The acting is of a very high standard. It is painful to watch Hudson strip away Alex’s defences, leaving him
so vulnerable and exposed. Hoffman-Gill is equally impressive showing how Tom loses his faith in the system.

A sadistic yet sexy female interrogator is something of a pulp cliché but Ambler does her best to flesh out
Helen and the twist of her being pregnant adds impact. Akhtar both represents, and shows the weakness of,
the regime as he changes from absolute conviction to rage whenever anything threatens the status quo.

Zero is flawed but remains a powerful and thought-provoking play, as brilliantly performed as it is directed.

[Dave Cunningham]

The story follows two soldiers who arrive at Camp Zero. Alex, played by the excellent Stephen Hudson,
is a level-headed, educated translator who is shocked at the torture inflicted on the prisoners and who
begins to understand that this treatment is part of the cause of the violence. Tom, on the other hand,
is a new recruit who has signed up for the adventure and who initially accepts the raison d'être of the camp
unquestioningly. Alex decides that he must reveal the truth about the torture to the public by writing a book.
His only ally is the unreliable Tom and with bombings occurring everywhere there is no guarantee that
anyone will want to listen. As the government try to prevent the book leaving the camp, Alex and Tom are
forced to run for their lives and a dramatic endgame ensues.

This play includes torture scenes that are shocking but true-to-life and not over-played, benefiting from the
amazing directorial skills of the Lakeside's Matt Aston. Comic relief is provided by Tom's bumbling good
humour and childish naivety. Tom is superbly played by Daniel Hoffman-Gill, who happens to be a former
LeftLion contributor. Tom represents the ignorance and complacency of the public, providing a poignant
contrast to Alex, who is shocked out of his military sense of detachment by the illogical brutality.

This is a compelling contribution to the debate on governments' reaction to terrorism. However, I feel there
are a couple of weaknesses. Firstly, whilst the writer's position is clear, he has a duty to convey the alternate
point of view. Although the camp's major does ask whether there are situations where torture is acceptable,
this line is not explored. Secondly, the scene in which a detainee explains that it is economic inequality and
envy that drove him to buy explosives rather than tools, is rather unconvincing. Failing to address these
points means the play risks preaching only to the converted. However, it makes a powerful case why we
should all pay attention to what is being done in our names.

[Adrian Bhagat]

Zero is the story of one of hundreds of interrogation camps set up twenty years from now to extract
information from detainees known only as ‘the others’. It is economics, we discover, rather than religion
that has caused have-nots to attack Westerners on a large scale. In the world of Zero even rainwater is a
commodity. Even fake rainwater.

The story’s broken time frame is seen through the memories of Alex, a reluctant soldier, brought in to
interpret during brutal rounds of questioning. Alex, played with marvellous moral ambivalence by
Stephen Hudson, forms unlikely relationships with a junior recruit (Daniel Hoffmann-Gill) and an
inmate (Damian Lynch) as he begins to penetrate the camp’s darker secrets. Alex’s tragedy is that
he is not a warrior poet or a lone voice of reason in a mad world; he is just an ordinary, flawed man
whose stand against the terrible things he witnesses could never hope to succeed.

Chris O’Connell’s excellent writing and strong performances from all five cast members ensure that the
emotional intensity remains in place as the play’s scope ranges from torture to pathos over barely 90
minutes without interval.

Theatre Absolute’s muscular storytelling, inventive use of soundscapes, pools of light and a simple scaffold
set lend Zero a fast, fierce urgency to match the importance of the subject matter. I hope it returns soon.
The Cottesloe at the National would be an ideal venue.