Mission Drift at The Shed (National Theatre)

It seems quite the thing to name your posh establishment de choix after something that sounds like somewhere your Dad would have way more fun than you.

For instance, you might go and relax at the Cowshed (swanky spa), have a beer in the Electricity Showroom (nice pub), pop off for an uber-trendy chicken and chips at Tramshed (celebrity-chef owned restaurant) before taking in a show at The Shed (the National Theatre's answer to all of the above, shouldering the burden of the "edgy" theatre space while the Cottesloe gets turned into the Dorfman, whatever that might mean).

The tables in the Shed Bar are bare, plywood jobs interspersed with knackered sofas and comfy, if equally well-worn, leather armchairs. Basically, imagine the lovechild of Urban Outfitters and Jack Wills serving beer from a trendy London brewery at 4 quid a pop and you're pretty much there. The National Theatre, perhaps, is pushing to draw in the youngish and affluent-ish. They were even playing popular music. I know, at the National Theatre... imagine the horror.

No horror at all, in fact. It's basically what you'd expect from the National. It's not going to be cheap, but there's also quite a strong chance that it won't be crap either. I suppose I'm just mildly amused by the blatant attempt to lower the average age of the audience by a decade or two. Maybe this is why they've been sending me a survey every other week asking me how old I am...

Bear with me, this is relevant. Honest.

Written by the TEAM (upper case) in collaboration with Heather Christian and Sarah Gancher, Mission Shift, from one perspective, offers a sideways look at the boom and bust of American Capitalism over 400 years or so, finally focussing in on Las Vegas ("Las Meadows"), once the fastest growing city in America that then took a whopping great smack in the chops with the Stock Market crash and the housing crisis.

Over the course of the performance we follow two stories: Joris and Catalina's symbolic trek from the Netherlands to the USA and ultimately to the creation of Las Vegas and thumping great concrete casinos on the one hand, and Joan and Chris - a modern day pair struggling with the repercussions of the above. Of course, I grossly over-simplify.

The plot, for what it is, is not a complicated one, though - mostly it's a version of history played out in a harum scarum, "hold on to your hats" type way. This play is all about the delivery. It's fast, furious, passionate and above all slicker than a sea gull that was paddling about and minding its own business when Deepwater Horizon went "pop". Professional, tight performances all round with the central pairing of Libby King and Brian Hastert as Catalina and Joris delivering a pulsating momentum and joy to the first act in particular.

For all of the momentum, joy and undeniable humour or the piece, though, the thing that sticks in your head is the devastating, witty, sometimes heart-rending, sometimes consoling voice of Heather Christian as Miss Atomic. This is another actress/singer/song writer/performer to look out for, whatever she does. Elements of the versatility and power of Jane Horrocks, the soaring, almost unbelievable voice of a Paloma Faith (or, again, a Jane Horrocks for that matter), and the wit and charm of a... well, of a Heather Christian. Miss Atomic is to Mission Drift what, perhaps, The Emcee is to Cabaret. Sinister, humorous, but more importantly constant and powerful. The other characters are transient, mobile and Miss Atomic, you feel, is the fixed point around which they revolve.

Around the audience, there were audible gasps as Miss Atomic really hit her stride in the second act and pulled off some quite stunning vocal acrobatics with the ease and nonchalance of the wily, all-knowing figure she seemed to represent. Blimey.

For me, Mission Drift resonates quite deeply. To an audience dressed more by Jack Wills and COS than by M&S and Laura Ashley (the usual couturiers at a National Theatre performance), I would imagine the play speaks equally loudly. "Nan and Grandpa had a cracking time buggering everything up, over to you bright-eyed little puppies to fix it". In this context, you might argue that Mission Drift and The Shed fit each other perfectly. A play written by 20- and 30-somethings for 20- and 30-somethings, performed in a trendy red castle for 20- and 30-somethings. Not a criticism, but an observation.

Mission Drift is bloody good fun, and definitely worth the time and money if you've got it. It runs at the Shed until the 28th June, but I'll be surprised if it doesn't get a transfer to the West End thereafter.