"Two" by Jim Cartwright

115270 original

The independently-owned pub is quickly headed for extinction. All but gone are the drinking establishments where the landlord knew your regular drink and enjoyed a sneaky measure or two on the side when his wife wasn’t looking. It is for this reason that Two could quite appropriately be regarded as an historical artefact. This is a play that, although exceptionally well performed by its two actors, will only really make an audience sit upright if they reminisce with fondness about the days you still got those little bowls of peanuts on the bar.

In this love letter to quaint drinking establishments and the diverse punters who inhabit them, a series of short vignettes feature a range of characters falling into or out of love over a pint of the landlord’s best. The diversity here is, however, limited to those sorts of people you might legitimately avoid in your attempts to reach the bar. From a lecherous Geordie cad to a bored, elderly housewife, each one of the characters is played by the two actors with spellbinding authenticity. Almost universally, each one of them are deeply unappealing drinking buddies.

While providing some gently entertaining moments, the intentions of the playwright remain wholly unclear. The cod-philosophising on show is just as irritating here as it would be from the drunk at the end of a grotty bar. Mercifully, the actors’ talent is just enough to reach beyond the lacklustre material and engage even the most modern of cocktail drinkers.