We meet Lucia Joyce, daughter of famous Irish writer James, in a simple stage impression of a mental institute.

After a brief projected introduction, Lucia, an accomplished performance by Maria Tucci, settles down on a chair and takes us through her impression of her life. The audience hears about her various lovers, craving for sex, her artistic and linguistic prowess and, most interestingly her relationship with her Father.

A male silhouette is projected onto the screen behind her acting as the schizophrenic voices - father and lover, friend and foe - at different times. The exploration of her psyche is fascinating. The real and not real are blended beautifully.

Then, it completely changes.

We learn too much and the one woman show dynamic is ruined by the male character becoming "real" onstage with her. We learn she is dead and hears her whole life story through a eulogy. It distorts the piece and frustrates those who hear her life and want that side explored more; but simultaneously alienating those that just love the "portrait" element of the piece.

The rest of the piece is just a muddled mess, save a few pleasant visual moments.

If it is an exploration of the psychological state of a person, fine, present it as such.

Alternatively, explore the fascinating narrative of her life more. Both would make great pieces. But this half-baked middle ground is deeply unsatisfying and feels like a waste.

Two stars