Gravity | Brunton Theatre, Musselburgh; Women Laughing | Bolton Octagon

Commissioned By the Edinburgh International Festival as part of its ongoing Music of the Millennium project, this new music-theatre production has been jointly written by the RSC's new writer in residence, Zinnie Harris, and the Georgian composer Marina Adamia. Its prime technical objective appears to be to explore the possibilities of using words like music - abstracted from narrative, functioning largely through evocation or emotional association - and music like words, as a commentary on or reprised reflection of the enacted text.

Commissioned By the Edinburgh International Festival as part of its ongoing Music of the Millennium project, this new music-theatre production has been jointly written by the RSC's new writer in residence, Zinnie Harris, and the Georgian composer Marina Adamia. Its prime technical objective appears to be to explore the possibilities of using words like music - abstracted from narrative, functioning largely through evocation or emotional association - and music like words, as a commentary on or reprised reflection of the enacted text.

Staged on the blank canvas of Phillippa Goodwin's gleaming-white minimalist set, this exercise is conducted through seven short monologue or dialogue sequences, each followed by a piece of music from the string trio, which is on stage throughout. In the enforced absence of context and detailed characterisation, the spoken segments of the piece seek to capture some essence of human junctures and encounters that incline toward the universal. They include a wife's attempts to comfort her husband after his father's death; a mother half-fondly, half-regretfully contemplating her teenage daughter's transition into adulthood; a woman grappling with the fear and potential for pain that are the flip side of love, and a wonder-struck meditation on "the infinitesimal chance of being you".

Within the restrictions of the show's format, Harris's script conjures these pinpointed moments with a considerable degree of depth and resolution, touching skilfully on preoccupations we all share, such as mortality, shifting generational roles, and the irreducible otherness of even our closest loved ones. She has also set a distinct, though subtle, rhythm to each piece, in keeping with the musical mood.

Those restrictions add up to an exceedingly tall order, both for Harris and the three-strong cast. The necessity of framing most of the scenarios with at least a hint of their circumstances, or of the personalities involved, to give the audience a purchase on the material, tends to mean (given the limited time) that the passages fall awkwardly between naturalism and a more stylised or heightened mode. There is similarly a problem for the actors, in terms of finding the right pitch and tone, and in mustering the concentration of characterisation needed to realise each segment with sufficient focus and resonance.

The musical aspect of Gravity, described by Adamia in the programme as serving a function akin to that of a Greek chorus, artfully echoes the dynamics and moods of its text-based side, with elements of conflict or disparate emotions seeking resolution, and its shifting patterns of harmony and dissonance. The show overall, however, remains decidedly uninvolving, coming across as an interesting conceptual experiment that has yet to transmute into living, breathing theatre.

Touring to 17 June; 0131-473 2026

SW

When Women Laughing was premiered at the Royal Exchange Theatre - after Michael Wall's premature death in 1992 - it seemed so much a product of Thatcherism and its devastating effect on society that one wondered how appropriate and funny the writing would seem in the future under, hopefully, a different government. Maybe life in Britain hasn't changed as much as was expected but maybe Wall's brilliance at handling dialogue, his wicked ear for the way in which we reveal ourselves (or not) in casual conversation, and his acute observation of relationships and all their difficulties is still relevant. In Jeremy Raison's sharp production for Not the National Theatre Company, Women Laughing still smashes through something.

What do two men talk about in the garden one summer's day? "That's a reliable little car." "Not so little, Tone." Colin, the host, steers the conversation firmly in his own direction: the merits of wine, holidays, the Japanese work ethic, the attraction of America for its business opportunities and culinary experiences. Tony looks both diffident and uncomfortable, eating the party food and knocking back beer then wine as if his life depends on it.

From inside the house, we hear women laughing. Gales of high-pitched laughter - raucous, uncontrollable, threatening, even - interrupt the men's stilted attempts at communication. Their wives, contrasting stereotypes perceptively portrayed by Naomi Caprion and Sarah Ingram, have just discovered that both husbands are in therapy. Outside, the subject is chewed over to the men's discomfiture, until each reacts in his own edgy, unbalanced way - a display of aggression by Colin; a fit of frenzy from Tony.

Wall has no inhibitions about exploring the darker side of human frailty, straying near the brink on which we all teeter. In the second half the strings of the quartet are tightened a notch or two. We're in a very different garden and, in a cunning reversal of roles, the two women make painful attempts at conversation with each other and with Tony, to the accompaniment of men laughing boisterously offstage. In his sensitive characterisation of Tony, Jonny Hoskins makes every twitch, and even a blank expression, into something indefinably unsettling. With the lion's share of words, Robin Pirongs has a challenging time as the hyped-up Colin, petulant, vulnerable and dangerously within the bounds of apparent normality. I know on which of them I would put my money as the first to be released back into the "caring community".

It's not so much lack of feeling, indifference, or cruelty that is pointed up, as these women's incomprehension of, and inability to cope with, mental illness. How these four characters end up, long after Wall's excellent play has ended, is an intriguing if disturbing prospect.

Tours to Chipping Norton, Guildford, Aldershot, Bridgwater, Southampton, Sudbury, Darlington, Harrow and Plymouth to 1 July. Enquiries: 020-7733 9615

LW