★★★

“diverting, packed with plot, character and incident”

Writer Richard Bean’s stage version of House of Games, directed by Jonathan Kent, is a theatrical sleight-of-hand that both honours and undercuts its source. Adapted from David Mamet’s 1987 film and story, the play tries to pull off a double con: replicating the clipped tension of Mamet’s neo-noir while layering in jokes, cartoonish supporting characters, and a dash of caper comedy.

The result, though often entertaining, is tonally confused – a production unsure whether it wants to unsettle or amuse.

The story follows Margaret (Lisa Dillon), a buttoned-up Harvard clinical psychoanalyst and successful writer. Bored with her uptown life, she becomes embroiled in the seductive world of low-rent grifters after she tries to rescue a client Billy Hahn (Oscar Lloyd) from a gambling debt.

She enters the titular House of Games – a down-at-heel Chicago bar – and meets smooth Mike, (Richard Harrington) a charming hustler whose world of deceit both appals and excites her. Margaret is inspired to research another book which provides her with an excuse to hang around and (improbably) play bit parts in Mike’s cons, a transgression fuelled by a growing passion for her bad boy lover.

As the scams multiply, so do the psychological twists, leading to a final turn that should, in theory, leave the audience reeling.

But where Mamet’s film presented its narrative with razor-edged minimalism – quick cuts, shadows, tight silences – the stage version feels the need to say everything out loud, slowly and with a chirpy smile.

The introduction of a broad comic sidekicks and the abundance of wisecracks contribute to an atmosphere closer to a sub-Ocean’s 11 pastiche than a psychological thriller. The quipping gang have plenty of character to play with – Robin Soans’ veteran Joey particularly fun – but the gags come at the expense of any menace and tension.

Bean’s script confines all the action to just two locations and designer Ashley Martin-Davis pursues the trend for double-decker stages, the clinical therapist’s office above, the sleazy, dimly lit bar below.

While the con-games themselves are nicely choreographed, they are also well telegraphed. And, by now, Bean’s boosterish urges have erased all thoughts of Mamet’s moral bleakness.

For all its inconsistencies, the production is diverting, packed with plot, character and incident.

The audience, like Margaret, is willingly drawn into the performance’s web of duplicity. There’s a sly thematic resonance here: theatre itself is a con, asking viewers to believe in fictions. This adaptation leans into that idea, sometimes too heavily, but never without flair.

The tricks may be familiar, but the ride is fun.

THE PASSENGER

Finborough Theatre

★★★★

“a beautifully directed production that recreates the dark moodiness of the 1930s”

The Passenger, adapted by Nadya Menuhin from Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz’s novel Der Reisende, has just opened at the Finborough Theatre. It’s a story set in Germany just after the Kristallnacht in 1938. The protagonist, a successful Jewish businessman, is attempting to find a way out of Nazi Germany. This tense, nail biting drama, directed by Tim Supple, begins like a thriller, and takes off like one of the express trains our leading man is always boarding.

The novel’s author was drawing on his own experiences of escaping Nazi Germany in the 1930s. The host of memorable characters that emerge onto the tiny stage at the Finborough Theatre have the ring of authenticity. We follow Otto Silbermann’s journey from Berlin, where he is forced to sell his apartment for pennies on the dollar to a German friend. Then he signs over his business—his life’s work—to a non-Jewish partner in order to protect it. Silbermann knows Gustav is untrustworthy and has a gambling habit, but at this late stage in Hitler’s takeover, he simply has no choice. Through a series of misadventures, and failure to obtain an exit visa, Silbermann finds himself in continual transit through Germany’s cities, already in the throes of political conflict. He meets many different characters and becomes involved in their stories, despite trying to melt anonymously into the background. His attempts to find a way out of Germany, while carrying a large sum of money in his briefcase, grow ever more desperate. Menuhin’s dramatization focuses on themes of love and betrayal in The Passenger, even if the love story in this play is a man’s bewildered struggle against fascists that are taking over the land he loves and fought for in the First World War. Silbermann is married to a Christian, considers himself thoroughly German, yet is betrayed by his country, his friends and business partners, simply because he is a Jew.

The Passenger is a beautifully directed production that recreates the dark moodiness of the 1930s that we remember from films like The Third Man. Tim Supple keeps the company continually on the move around and about a simple square. This square, lined with seating, becomes train carriages, waiting rooms, and any number of spaces that Otto Silbermann encounters in his travels. As the audience, we’re right in the middle of the action as well, as the actors, dressed in period coats and hats, make speedy entrances and exits in front of us. (Set and costume design by Hannah Schmidt.) All this movement makes for a brisk beginning of the play. The atmosphere of the set design is powerfully enhanced by Joseph Alford’s sound design. It’s easy to convince ourselves that we are there in 1930s train stations. Mattis Larsen’s lighting is tightly focused on the action, giving us the sense of constant motion in a space much larger than the one we are actually seated in. The actors deserve credit for managing the precise choreography that ensures they never collide with one another, even while managing a host of complicated actions, including dressing the leading man.

Robert Neumark Jones convinces as Otto Silbermann, and he is accompanied by an equally talented ensemble on his travels. Ben Fox plays his swindling business partner Gustav with just the right amount of bluster. Eric MacLennan is an overly hearty chess playing SA man, and Dan Milne switches between sympathetic characters to sinister supporters of Nazism in the blink of an eye. Kelly Price plays all the female roles with sympathy, and glamour, when required. Menuhin’s script powers up like a thriller, all short, sharp scenes as Silbermann’s story gets underway. It does seem overly long at ninety minutes of playing time, but that might be because the action slows midway through. The story, like Silbermann, struggles to find its earlier pace as it drifts aimlessly from one destination to another. Once Silbermann has failed to escape from Germany, what is he doing, other than trying to keep out of the clutches of the Nazis? A more sharply defined goal in the second half might help our traveller reach his ultimate destination, even if it is a less than hopeful one.

The Finborough Theatre continues its well earned reputation for producing thoughtful scripts with this play. The Passenger certainly feels like it could eventually make the transition to a bigger stage, and a larger audience. It’s a timely period piece that reminds us, chillingly, that the past is never very far away.

HOUSE OF GAMES

Hampstead Theatre

★★★

“diverting, packed with plot, character and incident”

HOUSE OF GAMES

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 12th May 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Manuel Harlan

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

HOUSE OF GAMES

HOUSE OF GAMES

HOUSE OF GAMES

THE PASSENGER

Finborough Theatre

★★★★

“a beautifully directed production that recreates the dark moodiness of the 1930s”

THE PASSENGER

Finborough Theatre

Reviewed on 13th February 2025

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Steve Gregson

Previously reviewed at this venue:

HE PASSENGER

THE PASSENGER

THE PASSENGER

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