House of Games at Hampstead Theatre – review

Could you spot a con? Today it seems that we are warned of potential scams more than ever and most of us convince ourselves we are too smart to ever fall for one. But human nature leads us to believe other people. Richard Bean’s adaptation of David Mamet’s 1987 film thriller, House of Games, takes that theme to explore lies, trust and duplicity in a world where it’s unclear what is a trick and what is reality.

When gambling addict Billy comes to famous psychoanalyst and author Margaret Ford for help, she sees an opportunity to research her new book. The encounter takes her into the heart of Chicago’s underworld where she meets Mike, boss of secretive poker house, the House of Games. As their mutual attraction grows, he draws her into his world with the promise of access if she splits the profits to her text.

First seen at the Almeida back in 2010, the twisting tale is set up as a potentially clever study of the flexibility of truth and tries to constantly push the audience to consider whose version of reality is the most valid. The play often shifts perspective; sometimes it is from Margaret, as she absorbs information, and sometimes it is Mike’s, as we gradually learn more about his scams. It’s a highly compelling concept, so it’s a shame that most of the reveals are fairly predictable, losing valuable shock and surprise value.

Bean’s adaptation retains Mamet’s staccato, rapid-fire style with plenty of profanity, but also ramps up the comedy and dials down the noir elements. It leans more towards entertaining the audience. There’s nothing intrinsically wrong in that, but, as a consequence, the potentially unsettling effects of deceit and trickery have less impact. Those who have seen the film won’t fail to notice that Bean also alters the ending, with a rather unnecessary epilogue tacked on.

Director Jonathan Kent makes the most of the naturalistic rapport within the cast, segueing smoothly between the two opposing worlds. Lisa Dillon plays Margaret with the softly spoken self-assurance of a woman who knows both her worth and her intellect. She shows Margaret’s gradually building excitement at being drawn into an unknown world where she must learn to deceive to succeed, but also hints at her inner turmoil at being ethically challenged by her activity.

Richard Harrington’s self-satisfied Mike has a thin carapace of menace, masked with slightly oily charm. Harrington gives Mike a swaggering confidence of a man who feels very much in control. There is credible chemistry between the pair as they both attempt to manipulate the other through their emotional connection.

Oscar Lloyd is very convincing as addict Billy; one moment agitatedly pacing Margaret’s office; another, louchely reclining on a chair. Andrew Whipp is excellent as hapless and amiable barman Bobby, replete with tattoos and a Hells’ Angel’s leather waistcoat. Siôn Tudor Owen is compelling; horribly rude, with bursts of pure aggression as poker player George.

Ashley Martin-Davis’ inventive two-tiered set shows us the stark contrast between the contrasting locations within the play. Margaret’s overly bright, antiseptic office is full of neatly organised bookshelves and blonde wood. This is a space where Margaret feels at ease and in control. Below is the grimy dive of the House of Games, a dank and dark basement with smeared windows and a sticky-looking floor where Mike is at home.

Although lacking in the ability of make you gasp in shock, there is much to enjoy about House of Games. A very solid and entertaining production that might make you think twice about believing everything you are told.