Blossom at the Herald Theatre

By MICHELE HEWITSON

If Alison Wall was a flower she would be a hot-pink gerbera. In Blossom, which she co-wrote and in which she plays a cast of thousands, she exudes a passion for her material which means that this little show bursts from the stage with all the vitality of spring.

This season is a return of Wall's solo show; it did the rounds last year and in 2000. It is the story of 34-year-old Abbie, who is disenchanted with life, and 92-year-old Mavis, a character who has never been anything but enchanted with life.

Now bedridden, Mavis lives vicariously - through the stories she spins about her own life and egging Abbie on to take risks. Mavis was an usherette, or, as she remembers it, "I danced with Fred Astaire". She encourages Abbie to "give up your job, Blossom", to travel to Morocco when all the other voices are saying disapproving things such as "you just had a holiday at Christmas".

Abbie does go to Morocco; Mavis gets to go along for the ride inside Abbie's head. It's all a bit like Shirley Valentine sans the egg and chips.

Blossom is also the story of the traveller cast adrift in a strange land. As well as Abbie and Mavis, Wall plays a handsome carpet-seller, a camel, a turtle. She creates a sex scene in which she plays both parties.

There is much that is charming about Blossom. Wall invests in Mavis a grin and a wink and a wicked enjoyment of life which lasts right up to the point she is conning a nurse into giving her more morphine. And Wall makes a very fine and believable camel indeed.

John Verryt has designed a set which is a little gem. A tiny bright carnival tent with red curtains which open to reveal treasures and tricks: an entire great market place in miniature, a snake in a basket, Mavis in a Moroccan bathhouse.

At moments Blossom threatens to topple into the chaos of a game of charades. For it is really an extended party game, a skit spun out to make a piece of theatre.

But it is done with such exuberance that it is as enjoyable and sweet as the childhood memory of a stick of coloured candy floss