The Homecoming

If time is the ultimate test of a play's merits, the genius of Harold Pinter is affirmed by the durability of his works

If time is the ultimate test of a play's merits, the genius of Harold Pinter is affirmed by the durability of his works. The Homecoming, first seen in 1965, still has the power to shock and engage. It is one of his more explicit plays, laying out its stall of aberrations for all to see, but it also reeks of evil, of the terrors that lie at the heart of darkness.

The story is lucid. Teddy, an academic, returns from the US to visit the London family home he deserted six years earlier with his new wife, Ruth. Still living there are his father, two brothers and a bachelor uncle. Max is its primitive patriarch, Lenny a pimp, Joey a moronic boxer and uncle Sam a lowly chauffeur.

It is soon evident that Teddy has not been forgiven for his emigrant disloyalty, but the family's attention switches to Ruth. They scent her innate amorality and woo her from husband and family for a life of cosseted prostitution.

As Teddy leaves alone, her parting words to him are not to be a stranger, and the irony is that, through six years of marriage and three children, they have clearly never been anything else.

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We are told little of their past, why Teddy got out, how Ruth lived before they met; the play has its mysteries. Through the author's brilliant dialogue and structures, we get a sense of the family's deep depravity and how well she fits into it, of a world like the dark side of the moon, devoid of warmth or humanity.

A very talented cast creates the characters with sharply etched interpretations. Lia Williams is riveting as Ruth, a beautiful woman with dangerous depths; Ian Holm is immense as Max; Ian Hart's Lenny is sadistic and frightening; Jason O'Mara's Joey is all blundering violence; John Kavanagh's Sam is a pathetic nonentity and Nick Dunning's Teddy is a strangely passive victim.

This production, directed by Robin Lefevre, is mesmeric. The realistic set design by Eileen Diss feels right and makes space for the action, and is lit with atmospheric contrasts by Mick Hughes. It all makes for a scary play with a chilling impact.

Runs until June 30th; bookings on 01-8744045