A man walks into a pub. So begins the first line of Barney Norris’s heart-wrenching new play, Eventide, and also its action. The opening line goes on to become a rather rude joke about a ferret, the details of which I will not go into here in case my mum is reading. The teller of this joke is the man that walks into a pub. Well, that walks into a pub garden, if we’re being picky.

The pub garden is the location of all our action (though conversation is probably a more appropriate word than ‘action’ – this is a play of words rather than of plot.) John is the jovial landlord of a pub somewhere in rural Hampshire. His constant jokes, stories, and philosophisings hide a complex and desperately unhappy man. He is joined by Mark, a young man who has always lived in the village, and church organist Liz. All have faced loss, and all are desperately trying to grab hold of anything that will make life easier to bear.

Their conversations circle around their lives, teasing us with glimpses of moments when they’re almost willing to be honest with each other, and themselves, then quickly hiding back behind their words.

And what an eloquent bunch they are. The writing is beautifully lyrical, and takes in topics ranging from poetry, the decline of the countryside, the homogenisation of the village pub, but thanks in part to the dialogue, and in part to the excellent performances from James Doherty, Ellie Piercy, and Hasan Dixon, the delivery feels very real, like these are just three normal people having a chat in a beer garden on a Saturday afternoon.

These three chat, but whether they actually say what is burning in their hearts is another question. Above all it’s a tale of missed opportunities. Of not quite connecting with people. And of not quite knowing what to do when things end. A man walks into a pub. What happens when he walks out again we never find out.   ★★★★☆   Deborah Sims at the North Wall, Oxford on 29^th October 2015