The flyer for Motortown bears the warning that the play "contains very strong language and violent scenes that may offend". It may come as a surprise, then, when the piece opens with people waving sparklers and dancing to Britney Spears.

It's not all pop and champagne though. Simon Stephens' play is a menacing, disparaging look at the modern world. Set in Essex, England, it follows a day in the life of Danny (Sean Barker), newly returned from fighting in Basra, disillusioned with the war, disillusioned with his home. Through his interaction with his autistic brother Lee (convincingly played by Simon Corfield) and his encounters with an angry ex-girlfriend, a loquacious wanker and an affluent couple, we learn that Danny has come back to a world that has changed, and can't remember why he "fought a war for this lot".

The disillusioned soldier is a theme we hear a lot about, but rarely so stripped of political or social agenda. Motortown has been compared to George Büchner's Woyzeck. It was apparently written in four days, after the London bombings of 2005, and captures the frenzied atmosphere and off-the-cuff honesty of a terrified country. Running for 90 minutes without interval, Motortown is fast-paced, intense and concise. Much of the play's venom is directed towards the middle class who go to anti-war marches yet never have to defend or fight for their convictions. There's something Orwellian about the script - a self-awareness and brutal honesty that both intrigues and disgusts. It could have been set in Australia - there are surely many soldiers who fought in Iraq who would feel like Danny - who can't understand how they went from Hero to Villian in one fell swoop.

Director Ben Packer (of last year's Mercury Fur fame) has put together a simple, stunning production. It shows, in ways J.G. Ballad would be proud of, the hypocritical and sheltered views of society far removed from the atrocities of war. Yet it never patronises. The cast perform seamlessly - and a special mention must go to Michelle St. Anne as Jade the 14-year-old, for her heart-breaking acting through a particularly distressing scene.

The set is sparse, deliberately so, with just two plastic chairs on a wooden floor. These are more than adequate, for the intensity of the play leaves no room for props.

Motortown re-inforces a view that the best stories are simply told, and I would go so far as to say that this is one of the most important plays of recent times.

And don't be put off by the Britney Spears song.