David Ireland on The Fifth Step, the shock factor and working with Jack Lowden and Martin Freeman

When David Ireland answers the video call, he’s holding a pen. During our half-hour chat – which flies by with only one interruption from his cockapoo puppy Bonnie – the pen never leaves his hands. It’s almost a comfort to him, the playwright who dares to push boundaries.

His newest play, The Fifth Step, is transferring to the West End this May, with Jack Lowden and Martin Freeman, “two really electrifying, exciting, funny actors”, in tow.

“It’s kind of like a conversation between me now and me then,” Ireland says. The two-hander follows James, played by Freeman, as a middle-aged sponsor for a young Luka, played by Lowden. “Everything I write is what I’m going through. It sort of reflects where my life is at the minute.”

He happily confesses that he’s in a pretty positive place. Ireland talks about enjoying watching the latest Pixar movies at the cinema with his children, taking Bonnie for walks in the park, and avoiding social media.

As a result, “[the play’s] a bit more upbeat and hopeful and redemptive than some of my other work,” he says, referencing Cyprus Avenue and Ulster American. This one is “less shocking” he confirms, “but it still has its moments… it goes places people won’t expect.” In the past, Ireland’s plays have seen walk-outs and have been labeled as controversial.

“I don’t think my plays reflect who I really am. I don’t think I’m a darkly comic person,” he says, adding “When I was younger, I had a very dark sense of humour, and I also had a lot of painful experiences.”

Growing up in Belfast during the Troubles, Ireland says it had a “big impact” on him and influenced a lot of his work. Moving to Glasgow when he was 18 or 19, his first experiences were “getting drunk and drinking too much and then stopping drinking,” so when the National Theatre of Scotland approached him to write a play in 2020, he was drawn back to that time.

“I’ve known a lot of men through the years, particularly men who did drink and then stopped – not necessarily people in Alcoholics Anonymous, but just generally,” he starts, “As a young man, you’re used to going out drinking with other men. And when you stop drinking you have to deal with the feelings that come up. It can be a very strange thing to suddenly be sitting in a coffee shop with an older man and talking about your feelings.”

The play captures some of those strange conversations from the “roller-coaster” journey that the two strangers go on together: “There are a lot of odd things said in the play, but almost everything comes from a real conversation I had with somebody.”

By definition, the fifth step, or the “confession” “encourages members to acknowledge their struggles and whatever harm they caused to themselves and others in pursuit of alcohol.” However, the writing acknowledges that this isn’t something that comes easily. Consequently, the conversation veers into “all sorts of weird territories.”

“It’s kind of absurdist and there’s a sort of magical realism element to it as well. There’s a little bit of magic in the show, as it were,” he elaborates.

Is it a drama? Is it a comedy? Ireland himself isn’t too sure. When the play premiered in Glasgow, he was bewildered to find audience members laughing out loud (“It’s interesting what people find funny,”), in Edinburgh at the International Festival they were trying to “interpret” it (“They were, how would you say, a more intellectual audience”), and in Dundee they were at the edge of their seats in silence (“But engaged with it,” he assures me).

So, in London, there will be a melting pot of an audience. Finn den Hertog is redirecting the piece for its arrival at @sohoplace. “It has the feel of a boxing match so it will work well being in the round – and being able to see two terrific actors up close like that.”

Ireland saw Freeman on stage in 2017’s Labour of Love: “As much as I enjoy James Graham, I did go and see that play to see Martin Freeman.” He’s a fan of the actor – quoting The Office and citing more recent police drama The Responder: “I probably wouldn’t have watched it if he wasn’t in it,” he confesses. He’s not much of a police drama kind of guy. But did enjoy Lowden leading Apple TV’s theatre star-studded Slow Horses: “It was brilliant, right from the first episode.”

In fact, Ireland much prefers old movies, specifically those released anywhere between the 1940s to 1999 – they’re more authentic, more glamorous, he says.

“What do you do when you can’t go to the pub? You go to the cinema. Well, I did.” He recalls being an unemployed, broke actor at the age of 23, armed only with a Cineworld Unlimited pass.

It’s why Luka is Robert De Niro-obsessed. The play’s first scene sees Lowden reenacting a scene from Raging Bull: “The characters talk a lot about old thrillers and old film noirs.”

I get the impression that Ireland likes what he likes (most recently, the West End production of Fawlty Towers). He recalls a trip to London with his wife where he saw his first, and last musical: “She chose Wicked. I chose Broken Glass by Arthur Miller with Anthony Sher, which is the most depressing play ever. She hated Broken Glass. I hated Wicked. But we’re still happily married.”

Despite being generally not a fan of musicals – though he has been approached to write one – Ireland is open-minded: “I think there’s something to be said for overcoming your own prejudices, and considering how massively popular it is. It can’t be that bad of a genre!” he laughs. Not yet realising he’d himself made a Glinda reference.

“I’ve listened to some of Stephen Sondheim’s music and I really like it, but I’ve never actually seen one of his shows.”

Ireland explains that he believes audiences “have a responsibility to avoid reading too much about a play before they see it,” adding, “if I’m going to watch something, I try to find out as little as I can about it.” It’s surrounding the conversation on whether it’s possible to shock people today when audiences can broadcast all after the first preview. It is, he decides, but only with good writing.

So, if you’ve read this far and find the idea of seeing The Fifth Step appealing, the playwright would probably advise this is the last of your research.