Some pieces are clearly crafted with love and rehearsed to perfection but mean nothing to the average viewer.
Undone, brought over from South Africa, is poetic and delivered at machine gun pace but the text itself drifts aimlessly around the early life of a young man, possibly Wessel Pretorius himself.
The writer / director / performer, who benefits from a deep, powerful voice that could win awards on its own, starts the performance wearing only a pearl necklace and progresses no further than a pair of briefs and occasionally a leather jacket.
His monologue relates random tales of parents, a dog and Dionysus with a feather. It is all beautifully done but quite what he is trying to convey to the typical theatregoer is something of a mystery.