Originally written as a series of Facebook posts by award-winning writer Roddy Doyle (best known for penning The Commitments and Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha), Two Pints features two middle-aged men conducting largely banal but often hilarious chats over a few beers in a Dublin pub. The action - and it’s a stretch of the imagination to call it that - takes place over a 15-month period during which one of the men witnesses the demise and then loss of a parent. The play beautifully illustrates how bar-room banter can often mask topics of greater heft...

First produced by Dublin’s Abbey Theatre in 2017 and initially performed in pubs before switching to the stage, a new production of Two Pints receives its UK premiere at Coventry’s Belgrade Theatre next month, with upcoming Irish director Sara Joyce at the helm. We chatted to Sara to find out more...

Even though the two men in the play probably wouldn’t call themselves friends, they are clearly seeking - and finding - a connection, which isn’t a stereotypical male thing to do.
No. If we’re generalising, we’d say women are more inclined to talk to each other and men aren’t. However you want to cut it, there’s probably some truth to that in terms of cultural conditioning. So how do we have spaces where people can talk to each other, regardless of who they are? I have such an aspiration to show meaningful connection, and that’s what the play is doing best.

Much of Two Pints was written over a decade ago, so some of the cultural references in the men’s banter might be a bit dated. Has Roddy freshened up any of the dialogue?
Absolutely. Specific references have changed to make it resonant for today, but it’s retained its core. There’s a mastery to his writing that is so hidden because there’s a kind of ordinariness to the speech - an off-the-cuffness, as well as Roddy’s rhythms and structure.

The original production had a lengthy gestation period, developing as it toured pubs in Ireland before reaching the Dublin stage. Has that helped make it easier for you?
Definitely. One of the reasons I’m so in gratitude to Caitríona [McLaughlin, who directed the original] and that first cast is that I have the privilege of working with something that’s so dramaturgically sound. I shouldn’t admit this, but there’s very little that I can do except get in the way of it!

Speaking of getting in - or out of - the way, how do you intend to stage it? The Belgrade’s B2 is a fairly flexible space, but you obviously don’t want two men sitting at a bar with their backs to the audience the whole time.
The challenge was extraordinary for the designer, Claire Winfield. She’s been at the Belgrade for 10 years and is an amazing talent. Because of the configuration of the theatre, it was almost mathematical to work out where the actors can be - it’s kind of amazing what she has done. They’re predominantly sat on stools for the entire show, which sounds like it could be boring, but honestly it’s not!

We’ve already acknowledged that it’s a male-dominated play, and there’s obviously a strong Irish bent. How do you pitch it to a wider audience that might not connect to those two elements?
It goes back to when I first got the play and thought ‘Why have they sent it to me?’ My work has been incredibly female-centric - I typically only work with women - but the experience I had when reading it, and maybe this is why there’s a cleverness in the approach to working with me and Caitríona, is that I was affected in spite of my [preconceptions]. The play has a kind of consciousness of that - it’s aware of, and the men are aware of, being in this shifting time.

It feels like we’re eavesdropping on a conversation about nothing and everything all at once...
It’s hilarious, but then it kind of gets you. For something that is just two men talking, it creates pure feeling. At its heart it’s a play about existence and life.

With a message for all ages? 
Exactly. I think about my parents coming to see it and how they will feel seen, because they’d be a similar age to these men and [know] what it is to have lived through a life. The man is grieving a father, but he’s still a son and that’s still his dad - none of that goes away. At the same time, for somebody like me, it’s quite confronting to think ‘What are you doing with your life?’ And for younger audiences there’s a gift of experience and wisdom in this conversation that they wouldn’t necessarily get to hear [anywhere else].

Texting and social media has definitely changed how younger people communicate, and even though the play started out on Facebook, it really highlights the importance and uniqueness of face-to-face conversation.
I think there’s something in us that needs connection. It’s almost an animal need, so I trust that it’ll come back. It also explains a love of theatre for me, where everyone is in a room together.

So it’s Two Pints that should go down nicely?
I hope so! If nothing else it’s a really beautiful play and a great story. I trust that people who come will just have a really lovely time with these two men.

Two Pints shows at the Belgrade Theatre, Coventry, from Friday 2 to Saturday 24 May

By Steve Adams