 In Mike Bartlett's ambitious new drama at the National, 13, a large cast of characters are all having bad dreams - "explosions, monsters, all kinds of shit", as one character puts it.  It's London, now, and the air is thick with doomy portents, internet factoids, apocalypto-nuggets about how it's all going down. Nobody is sleeping well, the Conservative government is imposing cruel cutbacks on a traumatised nation, and there's even talk of a pre-emptive strike against Iran. But do we have the right to invade Mr ahmahavinajihad's thermonuclear theocracy?  Protests build, the people taking to the streets, shouting: "Not in our name!" They are angry about the cuts, about tuition fees, the NHS, the approaching war. They turn to rioting and looting, we are told, because they want "a reason to live", and are explicitly compared to those being tortured and killed in Syria, trying to overthrow the assad regime.  Meanwhile, the prime minister, ruthless Ruth (Geraldine James), is the spirit of Thatcher, Thatcher, Milk Snatcher reincarnate, in blue dress, high heels and a tight bun. There are half-hearted attempts to make her human at times, but in the end she is revealed - surprise, surprise - as a kind of Judas Iscariot, or perhaps Pontius Pilate.  Yes, to add to the already heavy mix, dollops of sickly-sweet religiosity are slapped on top. For, out of the midst of the protesting crowds of idealistic and ethnically diverse yoof, demanding a just society and free Nike air Jordans for all, there arises a messiah, in the form of a smelly homeless Welshman called John. There was a man sent from God whose name was John... Not just a new Jesus, but a Welsh Jesus. Jesus Llewellyn-Christ.  By this point, you will already have figured out the play's handy dress codes, so you know a scruff-bag such as John is a saint the moment you clock him. White man in a suit: baddie. any colour you like in DMs, leggings or a hoodie: goodie. all very convenient, like the characters in a medieval Mystery play.  Sure enough, John is soon up on his soapbox, preaching to us, with the house lights up, although his style isn't always quite so compelling as the original. His sermon on the mounting crisis in the nation starts: "There are things we want. We want the very best health care and education, free at the point of use, for all."  Perhaps this is the problem. John's supposed idealism is really just another form of self-interest, demanding free services from the state - that is, other people. If such heretical thoughts do arise, however, you'd better keep quiet. This isn't the sort of theatre you're supposed to disagree with, you know. The play doesn't want you to think for yourself, it wants you to think correctly.  John effortlessly attracts tens of thousands of followers, 