With approximately 57 scenes and 100 characters, Love and Information, directed by Tabitha Arthur,delivers a quick-fire – at times frenetic – pace, mostly very nifty transitions between diverse scenarios and an impressively smooth set of performances given the enormous number of scenes and characters.

All of this speed and scale contributes to the sense of overstimulation and information overload familiar to many of us affected by technology, media and modern life.

A funny opening scene involving a couple under a bed sheet and images of digital sperm sets a jubilant tone that continues throughout. The play goes on to examine, in its tiny narrative nutshells, everyday aspects of our human experience of the Information Age.

There is, thankfully, smart variation in the pacing and texture of the scenes, with some lovely use of sound and light (sound Ryan Smith, lighting Joe Newman). A mesmeric blue-lit dance by Waylon Edwards and Merlin Connell-Nawalowalo prefaces a scene in which one character claims that due to consulting a website on dream interpretation, he knows his partner is cheating and is therefore free to be unfaithful in return. The theme of individual interpretation of information, and how closely what we ‘know’ relates to what we want to be true, develops through several scenes.

There is a progression of vignettes about memory, from a man (Ian Harcourt, who is a comic delight) who remembers every detail of everything that he ever experienced, to a man (also Harcourt) who can’t remember anything and has to be reintroduced to his wife (Perry Piercy) every time he sees her.

There are stories about secrets and withholding information, dilemmas of free will and virtual love. We explore the making of meaning, the way we tell stories about everything and the way we can just lie down and contemplate a snail without making it mean anything.

Amongst the dizzying scene shifts we frequently return to a black-clad woman (Harriet Prebble) suddenly spotlighted in a frozen crowd. She looks so overwhelmed and you know exactly how she feels.

The excellent performances and polished dynamism are the necessary strengths of this very lengthy production. And while it humorously depicts some confronting realities of smart phones and social media, for instance, I don’t think either Churchill or Tabitha Arthur are trying for a heavy-handed message about the perils of information technology.

I understand that Churchill’s script gives few stage directions, no character attribution and a number of optional inclusions, allowing, I imagine, liberating amounts of creative fun in its presentation. And (this is just my interpretation) in consequence, the play is open-ended in feel, reflecting back to us some of the ways information, love, and our urges toward both currently shape our lives, and leaving it up to us to further reflect on what this means right now, what choices to make, and how we maintain our humanity and stay connected with each other through the maelstrom of information we are beset with daily.

It poignantly mirrors our experience, without overt moralising or value judgement. 

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