We've had songs for swinging lovers but surprisingly few plays about urban swingers. Now Michael Kingsbury, who directed Round the Horne Revisited, fills the gap with a deft social comedy that suggests partner-swapping may be fun on the night but inevitably leads to problems the morning after.
Matthew and Naomi are a childless, middle-aged north London couple nervously awaiting the arrival of their advertised younger dates. They turn out to be Ryan, a bullish East End chancer, and his sexy wife, Kelly. Immediately Kingsbury sets up a good situation in which class intersects with desire. There's a particularly funny pre-coital dinner in which Ryan wanly reflects that they have tried to do supper parties down his way, "but they normally end in hatred and recrimination".
It soon becomes clear, however, that Kingsbury is writing about something more than the etiquette of urban swinging. His target is middle-class hypocrisy: Matthew is an earnest industrial psychiatrist who preaches shared values and cooperation in the workplace but finds them harder to cope with at home. Which is fine as an idea, except that Kingsbury leaves too many of the details vague. As Ryan and Kelly settle in for a long weekend at the other couple's home, you're never sure whether they are practised predators or simply two people who have struck lucky. Although there are echoes of Pinter in the idea of sexual and territorial occupation, Kingsbury's play lacks the ruthless logic of a movie such as The Servant.
Directed by the author, it is put across with great style. Robin Sneller and Julia Swift capture precisely the apprehension of a well-heeled couple in search of a little extramarital excitement. Simon Quarterman and MyAnna Buring as the working-class intruders suggest they are fractiously in love while ready to use sex as a form of entrapment. It's hardly likely to be adopted as a recruitment ad by Britain's booming swinger outfits, but, with a little more work, the play could have a longer life.
· Until October 28. Box office: 0870 4000 838.
