As the legendary Liverpool manager Bill Shankly once said: “Some people believe football is a matter of life and death. I am very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that.”

A view shared by the troubled protagonists in Patrick Marber’s testosterone-charged three-hander The Red Lion in a terrific touring production by Rapture Theatre four years after it premiered at the National Theatre.

Running at a fitting hour and a half, plus a few minutes injury time during which the three characters try to salvage some sort of moral if not sporting victory from the jaws of defeat, there is just as much point-scoring off the pitch in Frances Collier’s grubby changing room of a set as there is on the “knackered old meadow” upon which the the titular semi-professional non-league side are defying the odds to climb up the table.

Much of their success down to the arrival of the nifty newcomer Jordan (Harry McMullen) who according to the bullish manager Kidd (Brendan Charleson) possesses the perfect combination of talent, temperament and timing to make it as a pro. But when the latter clashes with the long-serving kit man Johnny “the ledge” Yates (John McArdle) over the youngster’s future, the shit does an Eric Cantona and hits the fan.

Drawing upon his experience with Rooks 125, a group of Lewes FC supporters who more or less saved the club from ruin by taking it into community ownership, everything about the play reeks of authenticity. The dialogue is punchy and to the point. The references rooted in underhand dealings which only an insider would know. And the themes of loyalty, honour and trust ring loud and clear like a terrace anthem.

But the play transcends football when business locks horns with belonging and the mask of masculinity slips to reveal three desperate men clinging to the beautiful game in order to run from the ugliness which blights their lives. Their fates like that of their club mirroring another of Shankly’s quotes: “If you are first, you are first. If you are second, you are nothing.”

Harry McMullen, Brendan Charleson and John McArdle are terrific throughout. As is the drilled direction by Michael Emans who wrings as much humour and heart out of Patrick Marber’s razor-sharp script as he does danger and darkness. Catch their next fixture at the Adam Smith Theatre on Saturday before they finish their 16-venue season with a week-long stint at the Theatre Royal in Glasgow.

Peter Callaghan
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