NO FUTURE is the brainchild of Adam Welsh, who produces and performs as himself in this livestreamed performance from Camden People’s Theatre in London.

The meaning of the work’s startlingly miserabilist title reveals itself only gradually as a brave journey into the mind of one man and, through him, into the workings of the human brain itself.

At one point TS Eliot is quoted: “Time past and time future … what might have been and what has been … point to one end, which is always present” and it’s a clue to the play’s meaning.

While memories, imagined futures, physical realities and dream-like sequences may occupy the brain’s space in any number of infinite and arbitrary formations, it itself is grounded in the present and knows nothing at all of the actual future.  

An acute conception and it certainly provides food for thought —  unsurprising as we still, of course, don’t really fully understand the  workings of the brain.

Artistically the project is complex and impressive, with the camerawork of Ian William Galloway and the overall design of Verity Quinn providing a genuine artwork, with animated  collages of urban life, photo albums that come alive, emerging terrors that shudder into view and sudden colour illuminating the murk.

But performance is about audience experience, which here seems to be a lesser priority than the workings of Adam’s brain or the infinite potential of digital artistry.

Clarity of purpose in the narrative is intermittent, which leading to occasional bemusement, while the pace is sometimes so leisurely that viewers could be forgiven for ducking out and watching telly instead.

And Welsh’s lead character is so blandly understated that we never bond with him nor, ultimately, care.

The burglary theme, while familiar territory, is enjoyable for the real-life feel to the police presence — the cops cheerily visit Adam with crime number et al while never ever suggesting that they will actually find the culprit.  

The thoughts and artistry of Welsh and his director, Tim Lee, are very much worth 75 minutes of your time. But be prepared for lingering moments and a kind of detachment from the main character that never gets resolved and prevents any real dramatic engagement.

A stimulating piece nevertheless.

For details of future performances, visit cptheatre.co.uk.