TWO by Jim Cartwright at Greenwich Theatre Review
Written by Sarah for Theatre & Tonic
Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in exchange for an honest review
Ode to our public houses: the heart of British communities, a hubbub of hospitality, a place to commune with friends, a haven for the lost and lonely, a place to celebrate and commiserate with a pie and a pint.
Walking into the Greenwich theatre bar (re-designed by Jana Lakatos), the air is ripe with nostalgia. The dart board, the duke box, the background 80’s classics soundtrack, the Winsor chairs, tables with ashtrays full of dog ends, the warm greeting from the landlord, “What can I get you”? The Landlord and landlady in this particular establishment serve the drinks and are played by actors Peter Caulfield and Kellie Shirley, along with the other 12 colourful characters they contort themselves into. Jim Cartwright’s play Two invites us to take a glimpse into their lives, to pull up a chair and have a drink in the local boozer.
Director James Haddrell has taken an immersive approach to this production; here the actors talk to audience members as patrons of the establishment, who have the best seats in the house, in the heart of the action. This adds another dimension of connection to the actors and plenty of extra laughs “You drank all them yourself?! Ooh, you can come again”, says the landlord. It also invites intimacy, and some of the more poignant moments really sting.
A standout moment in the second act is an interaction between a couple in the pub who are clearly enmeshed in an abusive relationship. Caulfield is controlling and contrary, manipulative and dangerous. Shirley is hyper-anxious, vulnerable, tormented. There are gasps when he bends her finger back. Being a complicit witness in such proximity is searingly painful and difficult not to get up and intervene.
The rollercoaster of colourful characters is an actor's dream, which Caulfield and Shirley throw themselves into with vigour. Rapidly switching between roles, they transform from publicans to a shell-suited, scally pair of lovers who attempt ‘that move’ from dirty dancing. A particularly enjoyable metamorphosis is into a posh, dysfunctional couple where she very much wears the trousers, although she wants to get into other men's! Each new character has quirks, a story, a comment on human relationships, and every new arrival brings excitement. A highlight was Shirley’s dishevelled, boozed-up ‘other woman’ who stumbles in looking for ‘her man’. Caufield shows tremendous versatility as he switches from a flirty Liverpudlian to a downtrodden, anoraked, bespectacled Oxbridge type, to an elderly widower and a lost child who is lovingly plonked on the bar with a packet of crisps by the landlady.
The relationship at the core of the play is that of the landlord and landlady. They bicker and snap at each other, smile for the customers through gritted teeth, constantly make digs at one another, trying to pass it off as banter, rather like Martha and George in ‘Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf’? The wounds are deep. In the final scene, it becomes apparent that it is the 7th anniversary of their son's death, and resentments have been building since. Both have coped very differently, and the grief has torn them apart.
The pace of the play barrels along, the new characters and dynamics keep the energy up, and everyone is engaged. However, the final scene could benefit from slowing down at this point; to take a breath, acknowledge the beats and honour the enormity of their repression, the complexity of their feelings and their experience. There are moments throughout the play where some of the poetry that Cartwright crafts so skillfully feels glossed over or thrown away, rather than giving it the space that the heightened language needs. However, the scene was bursting with emotion and commitment; the characters' suffering was obvious and left some of the audience in tears.
Cartwright's plays and use of language are so intrinsically northern that it is impossible to imagine them being set anywhere else. However, Hadrell casts the publicans as cockneys, which surprisingly works for the most part. Northerners and cockneys are both known for being ‘salt of the earth’ types, direct, witty, tough. It may well be personal preference, but taking 'the north' out of the characters still feels like a loss.
36 Years after Two was first performed, this play is still just as affecting, enjoyable and has lost none of its resonance: a reminder of how important connections are and the value of community. This production opened up a new dimension of the play by inviting us into the world and not just observing it. The actors are delightful, and it is a joy to see them have the opportunity to transform themselves constantly and flex their acting muscles, rather than just play a version of themselves. The experience is like going to the pub for a good yarn, and you get a free drink with your ticket! Pull up a chair and crack open the BabyCham!
Two plays at Greenwich Theatre until 21 September
★★★★
