This is a play that asks questions but never provides the answer.
Proof of its value lies in the fact that we want to know: who are Goldberg and McCann, is Meg mad and what is wrong with Stanley?
Weirdly, although domestic mores and external analogies from 1958 don’t fit, the play seems to adapt and tension persists.
Harold Pinter’s sinister story, set in a seaside boarding house, is accompanied by organs both Bach and cinema - Stanley’s abandoned musical career?
The unsettling mixture of reality and confusion requires a cast who must act like an onion, peeling off layers of doublespeak and deceit under a skin of bored apathy.
The Wick Theatre Company succeeded magnificently with a drama that is much more about how the words are spoken as opposed to how they look on the page.
Dave Peaty as Petey, gamely humouring his witless wife, illustrated in a truly stunning performance by Pam Luxton.
Phil Brown demonstrated a Stanley, damaged but infinitely touching whilst Emily Hale prettily flounced around Dan Dryer’s Jewish Goldberg.
David Creedon’s considerable stage presence made McCann powerfully peculiar - other gifts include singing and turning the Pinter pause into an art form.
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