The Winners is a mess of a play. And consciously so. Eddie and Maggie are losers, existing in a perpetual state of booze-fuelled, drug-induced, poverty-stricken chaos.

It's worse for Eddie. After all, he grew up in middle-class prosperity in the leafy suburbs. Maggie is from the Shankill Road, which, in his view, makes her little better than the Poles and Lithuanians and Latvians and drug dealers and multiple suicide victims strewn around them in the underbelly of shiny, new, post-peace process Belfast.

David Ireland's hapless Eddie is submerged by Maggie's constant demands, not least her unrelenting thirst for a half-decent session of tantric sex - or any kind of sex, come to that. No wonder he's looking for a permanent way out.

Rachel O'Riordan brings her trademark energy and chutzpah to Ransom's premiere of Rosemary Jenkinson's surreal, politically incorrect dollop of everyday life on the edge. She is well served by her cast: Ireland, Tony Flynn, Neal McWilliams and particularly Abigail McGibbon, who pushes the despairingly bouncy, pyjama-clad Maggie to the limits of embarrassing hysteria.

Jenkinson uses a combination of irony and broad Belfast humour to make serious points about a society paying the price for peace. The wider situation is encapsulated by Eddie's Faustian pacts with McWilliams's flashy dealer Curtis and Flynn's Mephistophelean teacher, who coaxes him into his cruel deception of Maggie. In spite of a tendency towards exposition and a slight loss of stylistic consistency as the story unfolds, Jenkinson's is an emerging dramatic voice with things to say and the courage to say them. - Runs until February 23rd.