This tale of two hard-up reprobates in Gateshead, who dream of getting a Newcastle United season ticket by hook or by crook, encapsulates hope in the face of adversity. Adapted from an award-winning book (which also became the film Purely Belter), the play has its own rags-to-riches story, of sorts. Written and directed by Jamie Eastlake, it began life at a 60-seater social club in north Tyneside in 2022. Now, here it is in the West End, full of vivid characters, in-your-face demotic and subtly damning commentary on the political betrayals of this region, drained of resources – and sometimes hope itself.
Jonathan Tulloch’s original novel, The Season Ticket, was published in 2000 but could have been written for our age of austerity, though its tone wavers between comedy and tragedy. The picaresque exploits of young, disenfranchised friends Gerry (Dean Logan) and Sewell (Jack Robertson) – whether scouring the banks of the Tyne for stuff to sell or carrying out burglaries – are spliced with dark family drama involving poverty, domestic violence, alcoholism and sexual abuse.
Eastlake tries to capture it all, adding song and dance. There are vibrant performances and effective choreography (by Lucy Marie Curry and Sean Moon) with a balaclava-clad ensemble. There is also some grittily romantic spoken-word poetry. But the script as a whole is messy and incohesive, its various parts pulling away from each other.
Some numbers work, especially those sung by Gerry’s sister Claire (Chelsea Halfpenny), who is an aspiring singer. But sudden breakouts of music, club beats and pop songs do not progress the story and bring confusion at times.
There are a few powerful family scenes in the second half, especially featuring Gerry’s other, elusive sister, Bridget (Erin Mullen), including one monologue with shades of Gary Owen’s Iphigenia in Splott. But these are isolated, diluted by long comic diversions around a dog that Gerry and Sewell adopt. There is toilet humour, meta-comedy and jokes about Sunderland FC, which seem to try too hard to turn this into feelgood fare when it might gain depth by embracing the story’s darkness a little more fully. The season ticket storyline is beached by the end and some basic plotlines remain fuzzy.
Still, there are sparks of brilliance and much potential – as well as a ton of heart and soul.
At Aldwych theatre, London, until 24 January. Then at Newcastle Theatre Royal, 9-13 June
