Text And Delete. Etcetera Theatre.

Jess and Maudie, the early 20s protagonists of Ellie Gallimore and Kat Stidston’s thin comedy drama Text and Delete, are poles apart. The former is a fastidious, buttoned-up, tight-arse with a penchant for cleaning, a dislike of disorder, and an affection for the words of Michelle Obama. The latter is a loud-mouthed, A-grade idler with a tendency to avoid laundry and a partiality to the thoughts of the Spice Girls. Forced to share an apartment when Jess’s dishy flatmate takes a job in a different city, the pair’s initial relationship is predictably toxic. “Shut the fuck up you prima-donna bitch” is the sotto voce invocation Maudie just manages to avoid hurling at her unwanted roomie.

But the improbable pair soon discover a shared affection for a pet squirrel named Dexter, Bourbon biscuits, and wine-fuelled clubbing. Their bond grows stronger when a dramatic family secret emerges, one that suggests there is much more that connects the two than they originally assumed. The search for a resolution to long-hidden trauma sets the pair at odds and threatens conflict. Will their incipient relationship survive the revelations to come?

Text and Delete never really hits its stride partly because the writers do not seem able to decide what the show is about. The developing relationship between the two ill-matched oddballs has moments of humour, pathos even. But that narrative strand soon fizzles out in favour of a spoof detective story in which few of the increasingly unlikely elements add up. Jess’s mum make an appearance to little apparent purpose, as does Maudie’s older sister. There is also a woefully under-explored stab at interrogating the impact of racist violence, both on its victims and its perpetrators. Even the challenge of online dating gets a look-in. Each of these various themes has promise, but the result here feels bitty and disconnected. The whole ends up being a lot less satisfying than the sum of its numerous disjointed parts.

Gallimore offers up a suitably acidic performance as the prissy Jess. Stidston is good too as the jealous, whining, selfish Maudie. The characters themselves however rarely move beyond ciphers, something which makes show’s ending unconvincing and forced.

Designer Emma Ford succinctly conjures up a recognisably grotty east London shared flat, complete with muesli boxes and half-read books. Laundry lines stretch across the stage like Coronation bunting, each one hung with drying clothes – pink for Maudie and blue for Jess. It is a nice detail in a show that mostly feels underworked.

Writer: Ellie Gallimore and Kat Stidston

Director: Lydia Sax