Last year, there was one word on every in-the-know theatregoer’s lips: Pomona. Alistair McDowall’s dystopian drama, which imagined the horrors lurking beneath an abandoned strip of land in the centre of Manchester, was treacle-black and wickedly funny, with a twisting, non-linear chronology that was correspondingly nightmarish. Continue reading “Alistair McDowall: the pioneering young playwright on setting a play on Pluto”