Metro Theatre
October 24, 1998
By Imogen Edwards-Jones

He's assembled the best young talent around, but Imogen Edwards-Jones asks, is Nick Grosso's new play just an excuse for lads to be lads?

Walking into the Pilgrim pub in Kennington, south London, it feels like any ordinary Monday lunchtime.There's a tall, handsome, dark-haired bloke playing one of those computer games, mumbling along to a tinny Oasis track. There's an attractive dark-haired girl, sitting in the far corner, two boyish blonds having a laugh together, a quiet chap in a long coat and some guy with a Welsh lilt trying to work out what to eat.

Take a closer look, however, and you will notice something different about these punters. They may resemble a bunch of students, but this lot are one of the most talented casts in the West End.

In fact, when casting Nick Grosso's Real Classy Affair, James Macdonald, Associate Director at the Royal Court, could not have put together a more glamorous and dynamic troupe of actors if he'd tried. The cast list reads like a Who's Who of up-and-coming British acting talent. "They are a good bunch, aren't they?" says playwright Nick Grosso, sipping his drink and smiling a rather self-satisfied smile.

And well he might. Real Classy Affair is 29-year-old Nick Moran's first stage performance since starring in the phenomenally successful Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels. Joseph Fiennes, 27, is back on the stage too, after a year-long absence, filming the excellent Elizabeth alongside Cate Blanchett and appearing in the yet-to-be-released Shakespeare in Love with Gwyneth Paltrow. Liza Walker, 25, is fresh from her theatrical debut in Patrick Marber's Closer, Jason Hughes, 27, starred as Warren in the BBC's cult legal drama This Life, while Callum Dixon, 26, has just completed a run at the National in The Day I Stood Still. Last, but certainly not least, Jake Wood, 26, has received critical acclaim for his performance in Our Boys at the Donmar Warehouse.

"Casting was all about getting the right bunch of people together," says the 29-year-old Grosso. An author of almost prodigal talent, he has already written two highly successful plays, Peaches and Sweetheart for the Royal Court. Real Classy Affair is his third. "It's not about getting a good person and then another good person. You've got to get people who can bounce off each other. When you're doing an ensemble piece, which this is, it's all about chemistry."

So in the final week of rehearsals, with the opening night beckoning, just how volatile and effervescent has this mixture become? "Jake is the biggest scene stealer," says Nick Moran. "Joe is obviously a seasoned professional. I've seen Callum in Mojo and he's really good, and I've just been rehearsing with Jason and he had me in hysterics, because..." Moran pauses for a breath. "These people are really good, and if anything I've got to put my nose to the grindstone."

Talk about chemistry. They all seem to love each other. In fact, the more we discuss the last four weeks of rehearsals, the gushier they become. "Oh, it's been really good fun," says Dixon, who plays Harry. "You kind of think there might be a few problems before you come, but nobody's got an ego. If you can take the piss out of people, and the can take the piss of themselves, you're in for a good time, and everyone can do that. "

Real Classy Affair is the story of a group of blokes from Islington, north London, who have been best mates since childhood. They have always done everything together, but then Stan (Nick Moran), the only member of the gang who is married, decides to leave the area and move south of the river to Streatham to open a bistro.

"It's all big news and they don't understand why," explains Grosso, "and eventually we learn that the reason Stan is leaving is actually because of Tommy (Jason Hughes), and there's going to be a leaving party and Tommy's not invited, so he tries to find out what's going on."

With extremely dense, quick-fire and rhythmic dialogue, Real Classy Affair takes place mainly in the local pub. A black comedy about loyalty and betrayal, fierce ambition and fair-weather friends, all the members of the cast claim to have been beguiled into taking their various roles on the strength of Grosso's writing.

"I suppose it's slightly reminiscent of Lock, Stock... in that the dialogue is fast and funny, but I have read a lot of things like that which are just below par. But this is just brilliant," says Moran. "You can't take anything at face value with any of these boys," says Fiennes. "Survival is the key - and respect and integrity. They are a very close community. They know each other's secrets and murky pasts. But it's all about just keeping your head above water."

So while the male members of the cast have been sharing jokes, marvelling at each other's performances and doing lads' stuff (all in the name of method acting of course), what's the past month been like for Liza Walker?

Being the only girl in a group of five boys must have been exhausting. She exhales loudly and grins. "How much am I allowed to swear?" she asks. "It's a f***ing nightmare. No, it's OK really. It's just that there is a lot of male bonding going on. Like playing ping pong. I haven't been asked once if I want to play ping pong. Little do they know I can whip their arses. Actually, you know," she smiles, "I'm not going to get involved. I'm just going to go on stage and attack them with my steam iron. If anyone gets out of order, I just give them a quick squirt and soak them.

"In some ways it feels nice not to be part of it because that's how Louise feels," she continues. "It's a bit horrible sometimes when you're trying to rehearse and you want to be part of the group, but you still feel you're not involved."

Far from being a big girl's blouse, Walker is right about the general behaviour of her colleagues, especially the ping pong. "Someone said the other day that they'd like to see our play about ping pong," laughs Dixon. "Because that's all they've heard coming from our rehearsal room floor for the past month. We've been playing at every given opportunity to piss our director off."

"We're a very competitive company," says Hughes. "And ping pong is where it all comes out. I'm useless at it. Jake is by far and away the best. I'm also probably the worst loser. I get all hot and go really silent, especially when Jake's pinging them all over the place. I take it quite badly." Fiennes has the same problem. "Let's just say we've had to miss quite a few minutes of rehearsals because I've been locked in the loo weeping," he says.

I suggest it might have been polite to include Walker in their fun and games, and Fiennes recoils in mock horror. Oh no, she's a girl," he jokes. "You can't have mixed doubles on our table. It doesn't go. It's like down the pub. It's boy's territory.

"But seriously, that's awful," he says. "Poor Liza. Maybe the sentiments of the play are filtering through into the rehearsal room. That's no good at all. After this I'm going to demand mixed doubles."

Lunch over, they all snake their way back over the road to rehearsals. The banter is relentless, and it's hard to tell how much of it is in character, and how much of it is just them.

"Right, OK. The idea is to go into a pub in Islington and, um, get the vibes, right, and get really drunk," says Wood, announcing the plan for their last Friday night together before the play hits the theatre. "We might be rehearsing on Saturday, but we'll just turn up in bits."

"For Christ's sake don't tell Nick," whispers Hughes loudly. "Oh, I'll just play dumb if they don't ask me to the pub," says Moran. "I do have to be slightly ostracised because I'm the bloke who isn't in the gang any more."

Inside the rehearsal hall Grosso is making last-minute changes to the script. "I've learnt my lines," boasts Hughes proudly, "but the rest of that shower still haven't." And on that note I say goodbye, certain in the knowledge that with or without their lines, the opening night will find the boys perfectly in character and Liza still waiting her turn at ping pong.