The Coffee Machine Is Broken ****

A mundane setting is presented: chairs clustered in a waiting area, a coffee table and a coffee machine. A flurry of people weave in and out of the space, seemingly purposefully, appropriately to The xx’s Intro. It’s a hospital waiting room and we will meet a disparate group of individuals whose lives are about to intersect.

Lucy (Kitty Broadhurst), an off-duty nurse, finds herself torn between two profoundly different moments: in one room, her wife is giving birth; in another, her mother is in the final stages of her life.

Sam (Sam Churchouse) is just 16, about to sit his GCSEs. Struggling with his sexuality and troubling dark thoughts, he awaits treatment for an injured arm.

His father, David (Daniel Siner) accompanies him, burdened by unresolved feelings and an inability to connect with his son.

Ellie (Evvie Potamitis) is Lucy’s sister. She has sacrificed both her career and her relationship to provide round-the-clock care for their mother.

Izzy (Madeleine Sutcliffe) is the on-duty nurse, one of the underappreciated and abused front-line staff, which brings us to…

…Marcus (William Powell), who has injured himself superficially in the inebriated pursuit of fast food.

Vitruvian Theatre Company’s The Coffee Machine Is Broken centres around human relationships and a general commentary on the emotional and practical burdens faced by carers, both professional and unpaid.

Daniel and Sam have awkward exchanges. It’s clear that David cares for him, but meaningful communication has all but broken down; he is desperate for any connection with Sam. His overbearing, abrupt and hostile manner is transference and he resents the ease with which Lucy is able to strike up a conversation with Sam. There is much that remains unsaid between father and son…

…which is also true of Lucy and Ellie. Ellie feels underappreciated and harbours resentment towards what she perceives to be Lucy’s failure to shoulder responsibility for their mother’s care, the irony that Lucy is a professional nurse not being lost on her. Lucy seems occasionally paralysed by the overwhelming and life-changing events unfolding around her.

Izzy laments the long hours, the unseen studying and modest remuneration. But what especially frustrates is the constant threat of verbal abuse, physical abuse and sexual assault. King normalises the drunken groping of Izzy as “banter”.

The writing (Susanna Shields) is sharp and the show is directed with good pace (Seamus Casey). There are some fine performances in this production, most notably Broadhurst’s natural and engaging storytelling. Churchouse conveys touching vulnerability and Potamitis adeptly captures the uneasy coexistence of love and resentment that defines Ellie’s relationship with her family. King’s drunken antics veer into caricature, however; this feels like an aspect that can easily be refined before the production’s next outing.

That minor reservation aside, The Coffee Machine Is Broken is a most charming, touching and assured piece of theatre that thoughtfully examines the complexities of the human condition.