House of Games
Hampstead Theatre, London
★★★

Hampstead Theatre knows its audience. And a beautifully produced revival of Richard Bean’s House of Games seems a good bet.

It’s sassy and stylish. It’s a study of American bad. It’s clever and fast. It has a right-on pedigree. It’s supposedly a thriller. And Richard Bean’s name has long been associated with an easy night out.

So why is it underwhelming?

The original story was written by David Mamet together with Jonathan Katz. Mamet then produced the screenplay for the film, which was also his directorial debut.

As a genre-perfect offering for the booming 1980s, it begins when central character, Margaret (Lisa Dillon) — a psychotherapist in Chicago — is lured from her law-abiding, profitable routines to investigate a very different, lowlife milieu. It’s an exciting idea and one which depends on creating the visceral thrill of the villainous world in question. But something in this production muddies the waters.

For, while the House of Games that Margaret visits is not only a gambling dive but a breeding ground for con artists and shameless swindlers, we never feel its seduction the way she does, nor share its thrill.

For a start, Bean’s efforts at crowd-pleasing comedy detract from the chilling central theme of trickery and deceit in the pursuit of gain. Director Jonathan Kent too errs in favour of the lightweight and seems undecided where to focus our attention, shying away from the stark reality of deception and lies. Meanwhile the cast, who could raise the game here, operate as a workmanlike ensemble rather than as vivid individuals who personify the dangerous allure of the American urban underclass.

And though Joanna Brookes’ Kathleen adds a sparky dimension to Margaret’s pedestrian university stronghold and Oscar Lloyd as Billy, who first entices Margaret to the House of Games, brings promising energy, in the basement bar dynamism and chemistry between the players seems missing.

But this is Hampstead Theatre playing confidently to its audience. And the production has all the trappings. Designer Ashley Martin-Davis, assisted by Peter Mumford’s matchless lighting, brings us a set worthy of all that is best in theatre. The opening especially is breath-taking when Margaret’s university office appears like a cinema screen high in the air. And when this shining gem switches in a moment to the grubby, naturalistic bar on the stage below, we feel all too briefly the true essence of Mamet.

Much is made in this play of “making a deal,” where deals represent exploitation of innocent participants at every turn. Deals are the language of the con artist, the practice of the swindler and the creed of the unprincipled. In the light of modern America and the obsession with deals, it’s supremely relevant. This may be why Hampstead chose to show it now. And good for them.

But this play needs more than the style, stock characters and funny lines on offer here. It needs the central truthfulness of Mamet’s original, and his arrow-straight unfolding of an urgent story.

It’s good to look at. But strangely limp.

Runs until June 7. Box office: (020) 7722-9301, www.hampsteadtheatre.com.