what happens to the hope at the end of the evening

Where is the hope in theatre? Well, there’s a glimmer of it here. Written and performed by Tim Crouch and Andy Smith, this new play is a quietly revelatory exploration of the possibility of change.

It operates on two levels: as a tale of a fractured friendship and a look at the relationship between stage and audience. As Andy waits for Tim (a friend from days spent at anti-fascist rallies) to arrive, he welcomes us and encourages us to greet each other.

This isn’t a fuzzy exercise in hand-holding: like taking our shoes off later, it’s about breaking down our preconceptions of theatre as a sacred or separate space from the world. It liberates us into feeling like participants.

Karl James's direction reflects this. Andy addresses us sitting at a music stand while Tim drags out props from behind a screen to create a front room in Lancaster. It’s funny and effective.

This matter-of-fact non-naturalism draws us in rather than alienates us; it’s about changing our perspective on the fixity of things. And it’s a telling counterpoint to the narrative it frames.

As characters, Andy and Tim have fallen out of touch, distanced by age, moves and marriages. Tim’s dialogue is a hilarious stream of expletive-filled frustration at his friend’s domesticated life.

His anger—at the EDL, the government, the kids he watches from Andy’s window—is scorching and despairing. He can’t imagine another way. And that’s when this beautiful piece of theatre asks: but what if we change the rules, starting here?