Others @ The Junction, Cambridge

Jemma invites you to be part of her project over the next six months. She's interested in you because, basically, you're not like her. She's looking for someone other than her, someone different to her, someone 'other'. Don't ask how she knows you're different; she just assumes you are. Thus begins Others, presented by The Paper Birds at The Junction, Cambridge.

Although, it's not actually you she's asking: that's just a letter Jemma (one of The Paper Birds) has written to other women asking them to share stories for Others. The three women featured are an Iranian artist, a prisoner in a British jail and a celebrity (Heather Mills, who seems not to have replied to her letter). That's one for each of the three women who form The Paper Birds and present their work at The Junction in a simple style, speaking directly to their audience, voices sometimes overlapping, contradicting or supporting each other. Meanwhile, music is occasionally provided by a meek male figure who hangs forlornly about the edge of the stage, speaking only to tell us his name (Jonathan).

There's a certain forced attempt at audience interaction as The Paper Birds wait for their front of house clearance. Others becomes a long interruption of their conversation with the audience, the show is what happens while they try and do other things, seemingly distracted by offstage sounds. The Paper Birds tease at the fourth wall in the opening of their show, but never actually do anything with it (not until a suddenly startling moment later on, when their Iranian correspondent blames the West for her troubles, which is all the more powerful for being so sudden).

The Paper Birds' dramatisation of the Iranian artist's story punctures our Western generalisations about Iran and the Middle East. It makes our Western perceptions seem ludicrous and questions our ability to ever really understand the 'other', not just in this case but in all cases. That's the heart of Others: perception and understanding of people who are different, people who are 'other'. The difficulty in understanding is also conveyed far more subtly by undermining Western generalisations than by having Shani Erez (another of The Paper Birds) repeatedly insist that English speakers don't understand people from the Middle East.

The project to find 'others' also leads to a northern UK prison and a woman serving a life sentence for manslaughter. Despite repeated claims of 'It's not about us [The Paper Birds]', this woman's life is seen through the curiosity (read: barely-disguised voyeurism) of those same Paper Birds. Again, the character is purely 'other' and the focus of narrative slant is on the audience/narrators' perception of that 'other'.

Nowhere is this more clear than with the case of the third 'other': Heather Mills. Her entire life appears to have become a media circus, with everyone's perception of her filtered through a hostile press. In Others, she isn't even allowed to answer questions herself (possibly because she hasn't given The Paper Birds any answers). Instead The Paper Birds answer questions for her, increasingly diverging from the facts about Mills' life and into personal speculation. Such is our treatment of celebrities (and often non-celebrities).

Mills and The Paper Birds seem to be part of a group of women (ie. all women) who've suffered at the hands of men. In fact, men come out of Others pretty badly. At best, they heartlessly break up with devoted and devastated women, leaving emotional wreaks behind. At worst, they're serial abusers who father multiple children without a second thought. Could this be the real 'other'? Violent masculinity that that somehow ensnares devoted affection?

Maybe that's what The Paper Birds are somehow really trying to understand, as much as the 'other' women they claim to seek. Or maybe I think that because, as a man, all of these women are my 'other'; that's the kind of thinking sparked off by Others. The Paper Birds do genuinely question perceptions of the 'other' and handle their material in a thought-provoking manner. But it might be interesting to see who Jonathan would find as his 'other'.

Thanks to The Junction, Cambridge's website and jeckman for the images.

Single Father [Episode Four] on BBC One

When the BBC continuity announcer described an emotional climax for David Tennant's single father, she wasn't lying.

Not to say that the previous three episodes of the BBC's Single Father had been less than emotional, but this final one rather went for it. Fair enough, if you've got David Tennant onboard, you'd want to use him, right? Helped on by various chemical imbalances, pregnancies, alcohol and that interfering sister Anna (Neve McIntosh), the series rolled on to its relatively cheerful ending last night.

The competition between Matt (Warren Brown) and Dave (David Tennant) may have fizzled out disappointingly, but the competition between Dave and Stuart (Rupert Graves) is racked up a few notches for this concluding episode. As relationships go, that's probably where Single Father suddenly really hits the mark; a fiercely polite tug-of-love between two fathers. It just needs them to be the same age to have an extra kick; is Graves too grey-haired to have been at college with Rita (the underused Laura Fraser)?

On the relationship front, the final episode ties up one of the niggling worries in my mind over Single Father. There's a small moment in which we can finally get some idea about why on earth Mark Heap's Robin married Anna – look at that cheeky little grin, that puckering up that serves as both apology and forgiveness. Heap may have only had brief moments through Single Father, but they've often been the best bits; finely observed and neatly judged, Heap is highly watchable and a tad underused.

It's just a shame that, as ever, Single Father seems to have neglected plausible storyline in favour of hitting its audience where it hurts. If Heap and Fraser are underused, Dave's eldest daughter, Tanya (Sophie Kennedy Clark), is probably overused in this episode – especially in the almost entirely unnecessary (and fairly implausible) event with Brown's Matt. Sure, it leads her into a violent outburst that lets the proverbial cat out of the bag in a loud manner, which needed to happen. But there are no doubt easier (read: more plausible) ways of doing so, without resorting to plot devices that smack of Jacobean tragedy. That incident aside, Brown is finally allowed to shine in this final episode, which is good, and gives a glimpse of what he can do given chance.

So those Single Father plot threads are fairly neatly wound up (don't ask what Matt decides to do with himself after not finding and confronting Dave). Lucy's happily chosen a father (for now) while even Dave and Anna are managing to get along. Which just leaves us with the main plot – you know, Sarah (Suranne Jones) and Dave? Alas, that's where it falls apart a bit. Never mind the chunk of plot missing during which Dave decided to go ahead with the paternity test she suggested last week – what's going on with the bump she has herself? Are we expected to believe that she was as manipulative as Rita in not telling Dave that she was going to get herself pregnant (and that he fell for it again!), decided to leave Dave afterwards, and then was persuaded to change her mind once again simply because Dave looked imploring and told her he reckoned it could work? Forgive me for sounding incredulous. I mean, sure, women look for good father material in their partners, but two consecutive women wanting Dave's children despite needing persuading that a relationship with him is a good idea? No wonder he's ended up as a single father.

To be honest, if you're watching Single Father for support in a similar situation, you're probably better checking out the links on the show's page on the BBC website.

Image curtesy of the BBC.

This episode of Single Father may still be available to view via BBC iPlayer here.