Tag Archives: Giles Broadbent

THE GANG OF THREE

★★★★

King’s Head Theatre

THE GANG OF THREE

King’s Head Theatre

★★★★

“At the centre of director Kirsty Patrick Ward’s bitchy and erudite psychodrama are three rounded and convincing performances”

The occasional soundtrack behind this formidable political drama tells of a nation undergoing change, from the raucous rock of the early ’70s to the chaotic onslaught of punk and New Wave as the ’80s approach.

But inside Libby Watson’s evocative set – all dusty books, leather sofas, and drinks trolleys – the same argument goes round and round.

Three giants of the Labour movement – Tony Crosland, Roy Jenkins, Denis Healey – all pals from war-time Oxford – cannot fathom how to seize the leadership of their party and the country.

It’s right there for the taking, if only they can agree on who should carry the flame.

With such a prize will come influence for generations. Think: no Margaret Thatcher; the leftist tendency put to the sword; no third party politics.

But these towering figures are also – and perhaps more so – towering egos and none will relinquish their claim.

In the end, the prize is lost.

In writers Robert Khan and Tom Salinksky’s reckoning, the what-ifs fly like shrapnel through the years.

That is not to suggest these three upholstered middle-aged men were on the outside. No, they were close to power, becoming the embodiment of the privileged elite. Roy Jenkins, the father of the permissive ’60s, Denis Healey, arguably the last truly charismatic chancellor, and – brightest of them all – Tony Crosland and his seminal thinking on the future of socialism.

And yet, the prize eluded them and was granted to lesser men, in their eyes. They marvel, at one point, how the hard left stole the party after the 1979 election defeat simply because Tony Benn and Michael Foot did a deal that avoided splitting the vote, a feat the magnificent minds of The Gang of Three simply couldn’t pull off. For years.

As Healey says at one point, “We are all children wearing our fathers’ clothes, hoping no-one will notice.”

They know their fate is to sink together, to cancel each other out, but still they cling to old disputes while the country moves on.

At the centre of director Kirsty Patrick Ward’s bitchy and erudite psychodrama are three rounded and convincing performances, not impressions but capturing the spirit of those mighty figures.

Alan Cox is Crosland, all camp teasing and frivolity; booming Colin Tierney captures the avuncular yet menacing manoeuvrings of Denis Healey; while Hywel Morgan has the hunched-up physicality (and the mispronounced Rs) of the uptight, humourless Roy Jenkins, so desperate to run a party, he eventually founded his own.

In the brisk, knowing script we jump from April 1972, just as Jenkins throws his toys out of the pram and resigns the deputy leadership, to the mournful 1980 post-mortem, Thatcher in power for a generation and Jenkins still plotting to claim the liberal throne.

By then Crosland is dead at 58, his stellar potential left unfulfilled.

There is an unfortunate flashback to 1940, suggesting a homosexual fling between Jenkins and Crosland, but beyond that, the play never puts a foot wrong. The script is dense with argument about the difficult politics of the left but all is handled with a deft and playful touch.

To those who were there, it is an exciting tribute to great men of charisma in an age of titans – and to those too young to remember, it serves as a reminder that nothing – least of all fratricide – is new in politics.

The Gang of Three is an accomplished and satisfying work, with polished performances, a witty script, endless gins and a cascade of awkward truths that are still relevant today.



THE GANG OF THREE

King’s Head Theatre

Reviewed on 6th May 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

(THIS IS NOT A) HAPPY ROOM | ★★★ | March 2025
FIREBIRD | ★★★★ | January 2025
LOOKING FOR GIANTS | ★★★ | January 2025
LADY MONTAGU UNVEILED | ★★★ | December 2024
HOW TO SURVIVE YOUR MOTHER | ★★★ | October 2024
TWO COME HOME | ★★★★★ | August 2024
THE PINK LIST | ★★★★ | August 2024
ENG-ER-LAND | ★★★ | July 2024
DIVA: LIVE FROM HELL! | ★★★★ | June 2024
BEATS | ★★★ | April 2024

 

 

THE GANG OF THREE

THE GANG OF THREE

THE GANG OF THREE

DEALER’S CHOICE

★★★

Donmar Warehouse

DEALER’S CHOICE

Donmar Warehouse

★★★

“The cast is uniformly strong, bringing definition to Marber’s testosterone-fuelled ensemble”

Three decades after its debut, Patrick Marber’s Dealer’s Choice returns to the London stage in a muscular revival at the Donmar Warehouse. Mostly set in the sweaty basement of a mediocre restaurant, this brutal portrait of male compulsions and laddish bravado still cuts deep, even as it reminds us just how entrenched and ugly blokey culture was in the mid-90s.

Written before Marber’s later success with Closer, Dealer’s Choice remains arguably his most vivid piece in a canon of hits: a searing, funny, and ultimately hollow study of men addicted not just to gambling, but to delusion.

Director Matthew Dunster’s production taps into the play’s timelessness, capturing the dreams, denials, and desperate self-mythologising that haven’t changed much even as mobile phones have turned from bricks to razor blades.

The cast is uniformly strong, bringing definition to Marber’s testosterone-fuelled ensemble. Daniel Lapaine is chillingly precise as Stephen, the restaurant owner whose demand for control barely masks his own compulsions. His bullying interactions with his son Carl – played with a raw sadness by Kasper Hilton-Hille – form the play’s anguished emotional core, even if their conflict at times feels contrived.

Alfie Allen flutters about as pallid Frankie, the wide-boy waiter whose cocky swagger only thinly veils a deeper frustration. He captures the double purpose of the bantz – as weapon and shield. Theo Barklem-Biggs, meanwhile, is the most impressive of the lot, bringing tightly wound fury to Sweeney, the chef desperate to save face – and some money – for a day out with his daughter.

The late arrival of Brendan Coyle’s Ash, a taciturn force with his own dark motives, shifts the game’s stakes dramatically. Coyle’s performance is an embodiment of seething menace: his mere presence alters the dynamic, exposing the men’s bravado for the fragile veneer it is.

But it is Hammed Animashaun’s turn as Mugsy that lingers longest. Mugsy, the hapless, endlessly optimistic dreamer who hopes to open a restaurant in a disused public lavatory in Bow – not inconceivable these days – is the heart of the play. Animashaun, a blissfully funny actor, manages to balance clownish exuberance with bruised humanity, making Mugsy’s pipe dreams oddly touching. He alone seems fully rounded in a cast of men who appear only to perform for each other.

Dunster’s production leans into the claustrophobia of the setting, with Moi Tran’s set design ingeniously lifting the restaurant’s kitchen and dining room skywards to reveal the grim basement beneath, the card table rotating throughout so we see every face. Some knowledge of poker helps in the occasionally confusing second act.

If the production occasionally overstates the father-son melodrama, and its feral language is jarring, it never loses sight of Marber’s essential insight: that in this world, the biggest gamble isn’t with money but with self-worth. Dealer’s Choice reminds us that laddish culture, for all its swagger, often masks desperation and loneliness. The red flag of the ’90s has become a fully blown crisis in the intervening decades



DEALER’S CHOICE

Donmar Warehouse

Reviewed on 29th April 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Helen Murray

 

 


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

BACKSTROKE | ★★★ | February 2025
NATASHA, PIERRE & THE GREAT COMET OF 1812 | ★★★★★ | December 2024
SKELETON CREW | ★★★★ | July 2024
THE HUMAN BODY | ★★★ | February 2024
LOVE AND OTHER ACTS OF VIOLENCE | ★★★★ | October 2021

 

 

DEALER’S CHOICE

DEALER’S CHOICE

DEALER’S CHOICE