Fanny and Faggot by Jack Thorne

Playwright and Shameless scribe Jack Thorne’s latest piece is shot through with child murders, kitchen sink whimsy, and a number of regional accents – the latter often varying wildly in the same character. This sounds like perfect screen matter, but it’s even better theatre. A sensationalised version of the story of Mary Bell, who killed two boys when she was 11, would be a delight to any ITV executive worth their salt. But whittled down to two scenes, the tale is dark, droll, and almost magnificent.

The prepubescent murderess went to trial in 1968, only to escape her open prison a decade later, lose her virginity in Blackpool and – as Thorne would have it – grow up. The play's first half is a sour melange of trial excerpts, kid games and abuse. It meanders a bit, occasionally threatening theatrical monotone, but the second scene is a vast improvement: a tense, chunky and deceptive little playlet.

Mary and fellow convict Lucy invite two sexually-stymied squaddies to their room, and the results are as creepy as anything Mary may have committed in her childhood. But the actors are natural comedians of anxiety, and the neat humour helps the play find its real theme. Fanny and Faggot is less about infanticide than the shirking of youth, and the lies we might tell ourselves to make this happen. Bleakly, Mary asks, "Do I feel normal?" Potential lover Steve says “Yes,” but there’s no suggestion that this is something to be pleased about, or that it’s a great improvement on stabbing little boys.