Flora, the photographer in Pleasure Seekers' Point and Shoot, is obsessed with her art, even the poster says so. Obsession being unhealthy, her relationships – with art, self and new boyfriend – suffer as a result. But just as Flora's self-portraits continually avoid clear depictions of the face, so the play, by never committing to any line of investigation, has an absence at its centre. Art about other artforms, in this case a play about photography, must deal with the question of how one medium can express another as effectively as the original. Point and Shoot sidesteps this interesting problem; the show is structured around the relationship between Flora and Sebastian, with photography a metaphorical and somewhat incidental, element. Condensed into the play's hour, the relationship begins with a cake-based dinner and ends with a sudden (random?) argument; without history, exchange of ideas, or intimacy, little can be said about human interaction in general, or about these people in particular. On a stark, cold set, with some nicely conceived lighting that emphasises the technical as opposed to the human qualities, it is difficult to feel connection with either character. Perhaps it is self-referential that the play, like Flora's photography, presents an image while leaving the real woman hidden. But for such a format, the aim is misguided. Imagine being trapped in a conversation which never progresses beyond chit-chat, there is little less interesting than spending an hour finding out nothing about a stranger. The desire to create a rich narrative in which human, technical and historical ideas inform one another is admirable, but unrealised at this stage in the life of the piece. Pleasure Seekers would do well to grasp the challenge presented by their name – it is they, not their audience, who have the job of searching out the genuine pleasure, the rigour and joy of creation and communication. They can, and should, look harder.