They fought the law... Time, Tristan Bates Theatre

If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime…

Before the play starts we hear various South London voices talking about various capers including a poor fella who tried to crown a turf accountant with a cosh hidden in a newspaper only for it to fly out as the News of the World landed with a whimper and not a bang.

Michael Head’s new play is based on tales from the underground not unrelated to those his Grandad used to tell; stories from an age of criminal chivalry which still fascinates a time, as the older character Waldorf (David Schaal) relates, when there were rules and honour among thieves. Waldorf knew the Richardsons and a code of conduct that rationalised the violent side of their work as the only means of protecting the good people in their lives; family and friends, from men like themselves.

The Code meant that they would only ever battle their own and that innocents would never be harmed. The Krays, he reckons, we “unstable” and too interested in fame and a film star lifestyle whereas the Nashes, Frankie Fraser and the Richardsons followed the rules. It’s hard not to see this as a meditation on working class Britain or make that just Britain; what happened to our loyalties?

David Schaal and Michael Head

Four men meet up in a pub called The End of the World, jokingly referred to as the depths of South London Waldorf would go to get a drink bought for him. They’ve been on the run in various safe houses waiting for the heat to die down after a botched robbery and have met in this boozer owned by Slipps (Michael Head) who is so called because he has, so far, avoided doing any time.

He’s first there of course before being joined by Waldorf, a tall charismatic gangster who is their connection to the golden era of the sixties. The walls of the pub are lined with family photographs and the two reminisce about Slipps’ Uncle Mick as well as his Auntie who Waldorf romanced after Mick passed away. There are also notices of various family misdemeanours including Slipps’ Mother’s banning from Morrisons for illicit stock-taking. Some of these tales are true and from Head’s own family lore and that adds to the telling; this feels like a celebration of the extended family values many of us shared from the sixties and seventies when people mostly lived where they grew up and everybody had at least one dodgy Uncle Les and at least a couple of Aunty Flo’s.

The wise-cracking Fisherman (Daniel O'Reilly) is next up, ten minutes late because he hates waiting for people… He’s a total “rise taker” and kicks into his mate Slipps from the off with some delicious banter that makes you want to pull up a chair and grab a glass of that whiskey yourself. He reserves his fiercest barbs for the superbly named Prozac (Paul Danan) who is last to arrive and first to get the blame for the job just gone South.

Paul Danan and Daniel O'Reilly

Prozac, so-called for his addiction to every drug going, lives on his nerves and was panicked into using the gun taken only for show, during the raid, firing off “like John Wayne on crack…” aka Grand Theft Arsehole (I am going to borrow that next time I hit the M25!). Prozac claims the coppers started firing first but no one else remembers anything other than his mistake.

Things calm down as the whiskey kicks in and Fisherman lays out some generous lines of white powder and we get more excellently crafted stories and group interplay. Michael Head writes great, natural dialogue and, as with his previous plays, Worth a Flutter and The Greater Game, the shared narratives are the strongest, pulling you in with a smile as you recognise the bond between these mates.

The men discuss how crime has changed and how imprisonment was not only an occupational hazard it also helped you establish new contacts and relationships for more escapades once outside. Thus, is it that drugs suppliers help Uncle Mick develop his pharmaceutical business in South London – although strictly without heroin, another part of The Code. Prozac became pally with a lad called Pretty Face, and when they were outside, “getting properly pissed like Liverpool town centre on dole day…” (in fairness, it doesn’t have to be pay day, it can be any day), he reintroduced him to old school pal Slipps.

And so, bonds are formed and the boys go about their business; doing their best to make sure their families have different choices. Slipps has two daughters and doesn’t want them ending up with his lot; he needs to leave them a legacy.

Cracks start to show between Prozac and the others and they become more aggressive and open – it’s not just the coke talking though and there are deeper truths about family and love to be revealed.

The Time Team...

IThankYouTheatre Rating: **** You won't find a more compelling or entertaining night out with the lads anywhere else in the West End! Great characters and smashing stories.
Time is a very passionate play and the gang of four inhabit the roles with fulsome conviction (well, they’ve been sent down enough times…). Director Joe Withers makes the very most of the Tristan Bates intimacy and the biggest laugh of the night cam after a deft ad lib from Mr O'Reilly after a line from Mr Danan that speaks volumes for the tightness of this cast!

Time is only playing this week and is already sold out on some days so get in quick, it’d be a crime if you missed it! Details on the TBT/Actors Centre website.

I used to work with Ronnie and Reggie’s niece, she used to say her Nan would get her to behave by threatening to get her uncles onto her. So, if you know what’s good for you, get yourself down to Time as soon as!