Watching a group of people sit around a camp fire trying and sometimes failing to recall the details of a particular episode of The Simpsons is a tedious as it sounds. You had to be there or, in this case, had to have watched it. And with just the campfire for light, literally, it can also have a soporific affect for an end of week-weary audience.
Anne Washburn's play, Mr Burns*, is the latest offering from the Almeida. It is set in the future when, for reasons not explained, there is no electricity, one deadly side effect of which is that nuclear power plants start to degrade and leak radiation.
With none of the usual electricity-powered forms of entertainment available, the group in question passes the dark, fearful evenings trying to remember plots and favourite lines from Simpsons episodes.
In essence Mr Burns is about how an episode of The Simpson's travels through the guts of an apocalypse. And on that level it is very clever.
In the second act the action has moved forward seven years and entertainment or rather lines from popular shows like the Simpsons have become currency. As have snatches of popular songs and 'adverts' from the life lost. It is competitive and cut-throat; it is showbiz, after all.