Ron's rages are sincere and — according to his wife — healthily cathartic. But can these splenetic outbursts loosen the grip of capitalism at its most monstrous?
SHELAGH Delaney’s most successful play, written at the age of 19 and first staged in 1958, is so good that it would be difficult to make a bad job of it.
It needs to be staged with the minimum of fuss and Bijan Sheibani, resisting any urge to take liberties with characters, plot or script, has taken great care to invest this National Theatre production with a grittily intimate atmosphere that chimes with the compact surrounds of Trafalgar Studios.
Hildegard Bechtler’s set brilliantly captures the sad, shabbily claustrophobic post-war Salford flat in which mother Helen (Jodie Prenger) and daughter Jo (Gemma Dobson) wage their battles. It’s almost possible to smell the dirty old town outside, with its noxious gasworks, slaughterhouse and canal.
From pirate statues to surplus Wembley seats, The Dripping Pan offers a reminder that the game’s soul survives beyond the Premier League glare, writes LAYTH YOUSIF
MAYER WAKEFIELD is gripped by a production dives rapidly from champagne-quaffing slick to fraying motormouth
Maggie Bowden was a trailblazing campaigning lawyer at Birnberg and Thompsons, women’s organiser of the Communist Party, and general secretary of Liberation
MARY CONWAY applauds the success of Beth Steel’s bitter-sweet state-of-the-nation play


