It is a formidable task to create a play suitable for a family audience that nevertheless conveys something of the realities of life and death in the trenches of the First World War. Director Toby Hulse has responded to this challenge by devising a production inspired by Michael Foreman’s beautifully illustrated novella War Game, the winner of the 1993 Nestle Children’s Book Prize. This features the Christmas Day truce of 1914, when soldiers from both sides sang carols, exchanged gifts and played an impromptu game of football.

“. . . Institute is no walk in the park. The enhanced sound of the dancers’ breath and breathing told us a lot of what we needed to know about their state of mind, and sometimes the physical effort of their work. There were brilliantly executed passages – at one point all four men linked arms and twisted, pivoted and tangled together as a pulsing human amoeba. . . Gecko to its great credit and courage seeks to break down the parameters of conventional dance. Institute is more evidence of this bold theatrical initiative.”

” . . Her personal style is engaging and fluid and not without a sense of humour. . . . It’s a brave thing to do to think you can entertain a bunch of people in this way, but Hannah Sullivan does it in some style. Here is novelty and innovation on the unclaimed land between dance and mime presented with confidence and skill – rare talents. Where she goes next we shall have to wait and see and content ourselves for the time being with this little nugget.”

“. . . Charlotte Melia, as the storyteller, turns in a commanding performance. Her style is the very lack of style in that she could be any intelligent, opinionated woman suffering anguish at what some may describe as low-level sexual harassment. She is in that sense, ‘everywoman’. However, what Semerciyan successfully succeeds in showing is that ‘even’ this kind of behaviour is not without consequences. . . Melia’s no frills, matter-of-fact, woman-next-door approach, provide the necessary ballast in the character’s journey from, ‘a kind of love’, for lonely neighbour, Ted (seen originally through ‘the window’), to a kind of hate after the sequence of events she relates.”