Via Dolorosa, Duchess Theatre, London

Many stones left unturned

David Hare begins his talk about Palestine with a sheepish half-smile. This isn't his sort of thing, he acknowledges – he normally writes the words and gives them to people such as Judi Dench to say; people who are good at this. He actually wrings his hands.

Just a minute. Isn't this the same David Hare who first performed this piece in the West End four years ago? Who has since taken it to Broadway, and recorded it for film and radio? And who, therefore, has faced thousands with the same air of "Oh, dear, I do hope I'm up to this'' and the confession that he hasn't appeared on a stage since he was a schoolboy? How has he kept that winsome look of placatory defensiveness? Does he practise with a mirror?

The circumstances of the Arab-Israeli conflict have changed considerably since the premiere of Via Dolorosa. But Hare makes no mention of the Palestinian suicide bombings, of Israel's retaliation, and of the international response. His account of a trip to Tel Aviv, to the settlers in Gaza and the Palestinians in Ramallah, is unchanged: we don't hear how the people he met live with present terrors; whether they renounce any of the passionate opinions he quotes or hold them more firmly. When he quotes a woman who lives in Gaza saying of the Palestinians: "At bottom, I think they want to kill us,'' he does so in an odd voice, with a pause and tilt of the head – presumably a reference to the demonstrated truth of her belief. But this opinion is hardly so unusual or extreme as to merit highlighting, and its qualification only emphasises that Hare's material is yesterday's news.

Of course, old newspapers have their appeal, and Via Dolorosa brings us the voices of people we don't often hear. "Nothing unsettles the settlers more,'' says Hare, (the coy verb is typical), "than the idea that Rabin's death is their fault.'' Though married to a Jew, Hare seems unsettled by the forcefulness of even social Jewish discourse. "Everyone was yelling,'' he says (absolutely the right verb), as the settlers flay the assassinated prime minister, his wife, and Israeli intelligence, whom they are certain had Rabin bumped off.

Hare makes artful use of the motif of the stone: for Israelis, he is told, the Bible has become real, no longer just ideas but their homeland, its buildings and its stones. But stones are also weapons in their enemies' hands, and stony the hearts and minds of both sides, each convinced of its righteousness. Hare asks a Palestinian politician about the peace process, and receives the response: "There is no peace process.''

How one feels about Via Dolorosa, will probably have less to do with its content than with whether you find Hare admirable or irritating when he demands: "Where is the hope? What is the way forward?'' as if chivvying a dim pupil. He sounds like someone tapping a pencil against a wall of stone, a wall that will outlast us all.

To 31 Aug (020-7494 5075)