This classic is well known for its bitter tang. A married couple go at each other as if they’ve hated one another for their whole 21 years of marriage. Bickering; insulting and rude; the jibes and taunts come out like pellets from a gun in a kids cartoon. Back and forth, sometimes witty, occasionally funny. In their living room late at night they welcome guests for an after-party drink. There is a blue carpet, a drinks trolley and piles of books. The sparse stage setting enables us to focus on the characters and adds to the tension. George is a 40-something academic; the visitor, Nick, is younger, fitter and with better prospects. George’s wife Martha pounces on this while Nick’s ‘slim’ wife, Honey, floats around drinking too much brandy.

Even at a smart pace the play lasts over three hours. In this production at the Tobacco Factory the actors gobble-up the vast script and sustain vigour throughout. Pooky Quesnel plays Martha. She brings a creepy, conceited edge to the role. Verbally poking her weary husband at every opportunity: “You make me puke!” she screams; the words and phrases start to drift together as we realise it isn’t all insults; there is something else hidden beneath the cynicism. Mark Meadows is a worryingly calm George; we know he’s annoyed but the fine subtleties of this languid performance cover complexities and keep us guessing; when the denouement comes he’s almost fatherly. Joseph Tweedale is Nick. It’s hard to see him as the ex-champion boxer but he moves neatly between the politeness, embarrassment and vanity required. Honey isn’t the best role for any actor, she’s mainly drunk or off stage but Francesca Henry does well with the little she has.

This play is about secrets, trust, jealousy, regret. Director David Mercatali focuses on these human qualities rather than the ‘fading American dream’ aspects and shines a light on enduring gender roles. The characters are imprisoned in their own cage of modern American life and distorted human behaviour; the veneers of well-mannered comportment, the evasiveness of faux quarrels, the self-defeating obstinacy.  Under almost invariable stage lighting, with subtle rumbling sound effects, the actors shout and pace, like creatures. It’s not an easy watch with such destructive characters. So much vicious love, hate and pain. It’s difficult to refresh a classic play that is nearly 60 years old but the director and cast have done a great job. A large, rust-coloured, squared, chock of staging hangs above the actors as if it would fall on them at any moment. And it’s this sense of foreboding which is so shrewdly exposed in this production.   ★★★★☆   Adrian Mantle   26th February 2020