The winner takes all, in life as in cards - but there are only losers and mugs in this terrific revival of Patrick Marber's 1995 play. Dealer's Choice dissects male compulsions, competitiveness and power games with terrifyingly cool precision and an upfront honesty about men and the way their minds work.
As with his later work, Closer, Marber doesn't condone or judge. He works like a David Attenborough of the stage, turning over stones to reveal the hideous and creepy things underneath and cheerily pointing out how fascinating it all is. And it is - particularly when it is brilliantly acted by a selfless ensemble.
On Sunday nights, successful restaurateur Stephen (Martin Turner) holds a poker school in the basement of his eatery. It gives him an opportunity to stay in touch with his son, Carl (James Loye), whose boarding-school education doesn't seem to have paid returns. Carl is a feckless drifter and recovering slot machine addict.
The other players are drawn from Stephen's staff: nice but dumb Mugsy (Pearce Quigley), who is so far short of a full deck that he is convinced Stephen will lend him and Carl the money to open a restaurant in an east London public convenience, and waiter Frankie (Patrick Baladi), whose success at poker allows him to delude himself that he can make it as a professional in Vegas. There is also divorced chef Sweeney (Paul Hickey), who knows himself well enough to be certain that if he plays he will blow the money he has set aside to take his five-year-old daughter to the zoo. Guess what: he plays.
On this particular Sunday, there is another player. Ash (David Hounslow), introduced to the game by Carl, is a professional poker player to whom Carl owes £4,000. Ash is having the screws put on him for the £10,000 he owes from another poker session. Yes, there is a mug in every game.
Marber sets up the situation beautifully and with tremendous wit in the first half, then racks up the tension after the interval as the game gets under way and the stakes are raised. You need know nothing of poker to enjoy it, for while the talk is all of cards, the subtext is of the sad little lives of these men who have no relationships with women, who are part-time fathers and full-time bluffers, yet who really bluff only themselves.
· Until October 12. Box office: 0121-236 4455.
