Simon Ward reviews Concrete at the Hope Theatre

Written and directed by Ché Tligui, Concrete is framed as a classic drawing room drama, but with a working class twist, such that the ‘drawing room’ in question is the tiny living room in a two-up two down council house in Skelmersdale. A town whose sense of identity is torn between its overbearing neighbour, Liverpool, and its Lancashire heritage. Craig (Joseph Stanley) and Tristan (Callum Burns) share the house, shivering in the cold of January, with little money left to feed the meter. Tristan seems to be the more sensible one – he has a job as a journalist for a local paper. Craig, on the other hand, we first meet sparked out on the sofa after a heavy night. He is ducking and diving between jobs trying to find something that really suits him, where he can finally live the dream. Unbeknownst to Craig, meanwhile, Tristan has applied for a job down in London working for a certain newspaper boycotted on Merseyside. He could, just possibly, escape.

As if this environment were not fractious and chaotic enough, Craig returns from a trip to his sister’s with a two-month old baby. Apparently his sister and boyfriend have abandoned their flat, leaving the baby behind. The disaster that then enfolds veers between the dark comedy, farce and tragedy. Of course Craig should have rescued the baby, but the last place he should have taken it is to their cold flat without even a blanket to put on it. When they finally source any of the essentials the baby has been copiously sick because they made the mistake of giving it cow’s milk. Faced with a tiny vulnerable life, the precarity of their own circumstances becomes even more starkly apparent.

This is a show that shines a light on the hopelessness of a life lived at the edge of society. The only respite is the occasional flash of Northern humour, and the shared punchlines from half-remembered sitcoms. There is a sense of inertia, as the characters were stuck in the concrete of the title. Even the absurdity of trying to deal with a small child is at least a break from the grim routine. But there is no way that they can rise to the challenge – they cannot deal with this much responsibility. The attraction of the illusory escape offered by drink and drugs is all too apparent. But no matter how stoned you get, you will wake up on the same sofa the next morning. There is perhaps a glimmer of hope that they may have learned something at the end, but it will be an arduous slog to move on from where they are. Tligui, though, has at least given us an insight into their lives, and maybe a bit more understanding of their issues. This is a valuable counterpoint to the tabloid-esque chatter about skivers.

Concrete is running at the Hope Theatre, 207 Upper Street, London N1 1RL until Saturday 11th April