Writer: Jim Cartwright
Director: James Haddrell
The British pub has often been a staple of many a community. For the landlord and landlady of the pub in Jim Cartwright’s TWO, it is literally their whole life. They met as children outside, snuck in together while underage, and now, in adulthood, own and operate the place. With both behind the bar every night, they have no outside interests. Instead, they banter with the punters, bicker with each other and try to avoid the one issue that is overshadowing their lives. It’s all about the people, they tell us, but there is a sense that this couple can stand anything but each other.
In these roles, Kellie Shirley and Peter Caulfield are exactly the salt-of-the-earth-but-with-hidden-secrets archetypes that one could imagine running EastEnders’ Queen Vic, all Cockney bonhomie and with knowledge of each of their customers. In this transfer from Greenwich Theatre, director James Haddrell mounts the play as an immersive proposition, with the centre of the Park Theatre’s studio space taken up with tables and chairs. The couple moves around, collecting empty glasses and conversing. While some of their comments are directed at the audience, though, this is not an improv piece. Lines written by Cartwright are delivered to, and sometimes about, audience members, and sometimes into thin air. It is in these moments that the benefit of Haddrell’s immersive vision for the play feels at its thinnest.
Still, the quick changes both actors make to play various customers keep the drama moving forward. These vignettes vary from an old woman coming out for a quiet drink, respite from caring for her frail husband, a Scouse couple in shell suits who love each other despite the man’s wandering eye, to a couple who settle down in front of the pub telly to watch an Elvis Presley film.
Each of these short scenes affords Shirley and Caulfield the chance to show their versatility. And while some of the more comedic characters may tend towards the caricature – Shirley’s drunken woman, staggering in just as last orders are called, or Caulfield’s hen-pecked husband who is overlooked when trying to order at the bar – others offer genuine clarity.
Nowhere is that more obvious in the play’s second half. An insecure, domineering man who takes out his insecurities on his girlfriend offers a chilling vignette. Caulfield’s quiet threats as he insists that his partner is demeaning him – if she is in the loo too long while waiting for a cubicle, she must have been taking about him; as she sits, any glance away from him is assumed to be towards another man – are mirrored by Shirley’s heartbreaking silence. TWO was written in 1989, and it occasionally shows (references to Babycham, Barbican lager, and some monetary amounts are the true giveaways), but the stories remain relevant: the only real difference is that nobody in this pub can ask for Angela.
Like that scene, it is the moments when the two actors work together that really make the piece shine. This is especially true in the play’s denouement, as the publican couple confront the horrors of their shared past, and the reasons why they have come to resent one another. It is moments like these, poetic in their sorrow and revealing the heartache behind the banter, that really illustrate the power of Cartwright’s writing and the reason why TWO is a play that deserves this revival.
Runs until 25 April 2026
