It’s the end of an era: 1999 is drawing to a close and in a down-at-heel East End pub, run by the nervy Michael (William Ely), regulars Billy, a youngish hod-carrier, and Zeppo (Lionel Guyett), an elderly barber who has lost his wife, have gathered as they do every Saturday night. Anyone looking for festive cheer won’t find it in Simon Stephens’s early play. As much as in his recent version of The Cherry Orchard at the Young Vic, the characters find themselves consumed by grief and tossed on a tide of change, often oblivious to what is happening to them.
The White Bear itself may have recently been refurbished, but the design for Michael Kingsbury’s no frills production is authentically grimy. You can almost lick the ingrained hopelessness off the wallpaper. It is a place full of ghosts and loss, but it is a place that has meaning for all these men. It is their place.
There are no women here. Michael has lost both wife and son for reasons that become apparent; Zeppo is full of grief for the death of his wife and clings to the rituals that give life meaning; Billy still lives with his mum, and in Ralph Aitken’s performance you can see that he always will.
The exchanges are ones these men have had every week for years, but tonight something different happens: postman Charlie (James Groom) walks into the pub like a blast of cold air, upsetting the normal dynamic and allowing the winds of change to blow. It’s very different from both plays, but I was reminded of The Weir and An Inspector Calls. Neither production nor writing are showy, simply truthful. It’s just men talking, but all that is unsaid hangs in the air in a play that captures a lost moment in time and sings with regret.
• Until 20 December. Box office: 020 7793 9193. Venue: White Bear, London SE11.
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