As one of our living national treasures, the plays of Sir Alan Ayckbourn are often revived for touring productions . It's not hard to see why his works retain considerable appeal. ‘Just Between Ourselves', which runs at the Churchill Theatre, Bromley this week, has all of Ayckbourn's trademarks. It's an English (and it is very English, as distinct from British) comedy of manners that puts two couples under the microscope and oh-so-painfully exposes their personality flaws and the fractures in their marriages – all from within the confines of a cluttered garage and narrow back garden. Don't worry, there's plenty of good laughs along the way.
Originally staged in 1976, it's now half a century since Ayckbourn was hammering out ‘Just Between Ourselves' on the typewriter. This production (by London Classic Theatre) does a fantastic job of recreating the period. Small details like nasty fluorescent strip lights are brilliantly chosen. So too are the orange and brown floral garden chairs. The costumes are commendably close to a C&A catalogue of the era – rightly ignoring the disco flamboyance of the 70s that definitely never would have penetrated quiet suburbia. The world looked just like that around the time I first opened my eyes, so I must admit the aesthetic ghastliness was all enjoyably nostalgic.
Dennis has put his wife Vera's car up for sale. Neil comes to have a look at the unremarkable seven-year old mini in the garage. He's thinking of buying it for his wife, Pam. It turns out that there is a vague connection between the two couples, via Pam's mother, and they get chatting. An unlikely friendship develops even while the car remains stubbornly unsold. It stays amongst the rest of the clutter in Dennis' garage. Where does all this stuff come from? Dennis muses, scanning the junk accumulated over a lifetime.
These days, Dennis would have a man-cave. Back in the 70s, men escaped from reality in their garages. There, Dennis spends his time fettling up broken kettles and other electrical devices, and rigging up fairy lights for a birthday surprise. Anything to avoid having to step into the house so lovingly maintained by his neurotic wife Vera, which is a hostile environment thanks to the antagonistic presence of Dennis' mother Marjorie. Dennis' approach to life is to laugh away problems and tinker at inessential tasks, putting off attending to bigger but more urgent tasks such as repairing either of the two garage doors (or his marriage, for that matter). In this pressure cooker environment, all of Neil and Pam's worst flaws come to be hideously exposed. For every conflict Dennis tries to laugh off and sidestep, the toxicity of a brewing fallout builds. Welcome to quiet, let's all rub along, domestic hell.
We enormously enjoyed London Classic Theatre's production of ‘Abigail's Party' in 2023 (another classic comedy of embarrassment from the mid-1970s). Tom Richardson, who played Laurence in that one, returns for the company in a distinctively different role. He is equally as impressive as the domineering Dennis, mastering an irritating nervous laugh and bringing to the fore Dennis' misogynistic put-downs of Vera that (naturally) he laughs off as a joke.
The rest of the cast is impressive too. Holly Smith's Vera perhaps goes on the biggest journey. She signposts Vera's neuroticism and anxiety from the start, without ever succumbing to the temptation to overplay it. The mirror image couple, a decade and a half or so younger than Dennis and Vera, are ably brought to life by Joseph Clowser and Helen Phillips. Both seize their moments to shine. Clowser finds inventive ways to make ineffectual Neil at least entertaining, though commendably for such a neglectful and self-serving character, he remains unsympathetic. By contrast, Helen Phillips humanises Pam's frustrations to such an extent that, however extreme her behaviour, you can kind of see where she's coming from. Connie Walker plays it older as Marjorie, Dennis' mother. As she's playing more of a caricature, she can get away with a larger portrayal. The physicality of the performance is a treat.
You can tell that this production has been touring for a while. It is slick and polished, retaining a high pace throughout. The rapport between the actors never misses the mark. There is rarely a moment of stillness in this deceptively quiet, suburban garage. The characters bubble and fizz along with the underlying tension. The impressive set-piece at the climax of the first act requires all of the theatrical mechanics to be well-oiled and functioning to pull off. This production manages it well, creating an image that will live long in the theatregoer's mind.
This isn't the warmest or cosiest of Alan Ayckbourn's plays. Whereas some of his output feels like an episode of ‘Ever Decreasing Circles', the genteel sitcom that similarly satirised middle class frustrations and suburban domesticity, there is a sinister undercurrent running throughout ‘Just Between Ourselves'. Nor does it paint marriage or filial duties in the best light. This production goes for the jugular and doesn't offer any respite.
For an uncomfortable laugh at the foibles of social conventions, ‘Just Between Ourselves' has plenty to recommend it. This play is probably best-enjoyed by anyone middle-aged and above, who remembers the epoch that spawned it, and who is old enough to have become at least a little jaded. It helps to laugh at those worse off than yourself. But be warned, if Ayckbourn's mirror catches your reflection, ‘Just Between Ourselves' may well provides an evening of grimly humorous self-awareness.
London Classic Theatre's ‘Just Between Ourselves' is approaching the end of its national tour, with only three more venues after the Churchill. Catch it while you can.
Cast: Tom Richardson, Holly Smith, Joseph Clowser, Connie Walker, Helen Phillips Writer: Alan Ayckbourn Director: Michael Cabot Running time: 120 mins (including interval) Theatre: The Churchill, Bromley Dates: 25th-28th June, 2025 Book for ‘Just Between Ourselves'
