Be warned. The home in the Homecoming is not a home you would ever want to come back to.

Max an elderly widower wielding his stick like a weapon is father to three boys, two of whom live at home in 60s North London alongside Sam, their uncle, an unmarried chauffeur. There is tension in the air from the start as Max attempts to bully his boys and effete brother in a torrent of aggressive language and the innuendo of abuse. Lenny is a besuited man-about-the-West End pimp pouring out shocking anecdotes about his treatment of women in a highly stylised literary language. Joey is a failed boxer who, according to his venomous dad, has every skill except those of attack and defence (one of a series of great gags). There is something of the bare-knuckle bout in this play which despite the Pinteresque pauses is full of rich language and topsy-turvy sentiments.

Harold Pinter’s seminal play written in 1964 was shocking then and is equally shocking now. Though easily dismissed as a period piece, the play still has the power to divide audiences along familiar Marmitian lines. Love it or hate, you won’t be able to ignore it. One may think that the brutal language and attitude of the male characters towards women, is a product of its time but recent revelations from the Met police reveal that females are still dismissed as ‘slags’, ‘tarts’ or worse. The language in The Homecoming is mercilessly misogynistic revealing male attitudes of power and control. But in Pinter’s often baffling but often very funny dialogue, the question is asked: in male/female relationships, does power always reside among people with penises?

Male egos are tested to the limit with the arrival, the homecoming, from the USA of the third brother Teddy and his wife Ruth. Teddy is keen to tell the folks back home that they have an idyllic life stateside; he with his PhD, good university job and frolics by the pool with his sons; she a devoted wife and mother. As you can imagine, nothing, and I mean nothing, is as described on the surface of the words we hear the characters utter. Familial rivalries and dark skeletons peep from dingy cupboards. There is bitter allusion, hinted sexual disloyalties and some very good jokes. Many will find the misogyny disturbing but that is what Pinter is getting at. Max and Lenny make Alf Garnett seem like a soft pussycat but their macho meanderings are illusory. When it comes to a real power battle, no one in the family can pull one over the ice-cool detachment of Ruth. Her presence and quiet defiance reveal the true nature of the men in this household – loud mouths with feet of clay.

The cast in this production were universally excellent. Mathew Horne (of Gavin fame) was outstanding as the lizard-like Lenny pouring out his absurdist reminisces of masculine triumphs. Keith Allen brought a savage power to old Max whose physical strength to abuse has gone leaving only the patina of verbal aggression that now no one fears. I liked Ian Bartholomew’s gentle-souled Sam ‘the chauffeur they all ask for’, and Geoffrey Lumb’s man-boy character as the hopeless boxer by night and demolition man by day. Demolition is what this play is all about – demolition of illusions, male power, dramatic expectations.

Shanaya Rafaat plays the ice maiden Ruth with effective poise and though her journey to become Lenny’s high-class prostitute will shock, Pinter asks ‘on whose terms?’

My one caveat in what was an outstanding revival of this classic play, was the Liz Ashcroft’s set. Though stunning in concept – think a huge almost Gothic room with sinister staircase, the intimacy of the family home was a bit lost and there was a danger that the scale of the set tended to diminish characters that have no need for any further diminishing.

That said this touring production prior to a West End showing is a must for theatre lovers. You will love it or hate it but don’t miss it. You have been warned.

Venue: Cambridge Arts Theatre, 6 St Edward’s Passage, Cambridge, CB2 3PJ

Dates: Monday 11 – Saturday 16 April 2022

Monday – Saturday, 7.30pm

and Thursday & Saturday, 2.30pm: £20/£30/£35/£40

All ticket prices include a £3 per ticket booking fee

Box Office: 01223 503333 / www.cambridgeartstheatre.com