The play opens  in an attic full of furniture, where the younger brother, Victor, played by Tom  Mannion, had spent his earlier life with his father. The latter had been ruined in the Depression. In order to support his father, Victor had turned his back on a possibly glorious scientific career for the more mundane but secure job of policeman, and he and his wife had managed to support the old man through his decline and very difficult financial times. Now the father is long dead and an elderly furniture salesman arrives to offer a price for the furniture. 

Gregory Solomon (played by Kenneth Alan Taylor) is a survivor and a comedian. He presents an almost mythical figure of long life and experience as if he has come in to the play as a symbol of life and all it stands for. In fact there are a lot of symbols in this play if you look , enough for a small essay – fencing foils, mothers’ dresses, the chair in the middle of the set. It's got the radio up against it and the still squashed cushion as if the father had only just got up and left it. Actually it is only Solomon who sits in the chair right at the end, as if to say – OK he’s dead, take it all away. Anyway I’m sidetracked ...

Solomon and Victor agree a price and so far so simple. But then the elder, estranged and very successful brother (Colin Stinton) arrives and all becomes much more complicated. The second half is a fast moving verbal match between the two brothers, with Solomon and the world-weary but loving wife (Susan Sylvester) as seconds to the fight. The past of course comes out and the truth with it – or is it the truth?

The night I went there were about 30 young people, probably 16-20 years old, in the audience. They were I’m guessing, from Eastern Europe, English certainly not their first language. It is a tribute to the power of this production that whenever I looked over at them they were totally absorbed.

Leslie Stones

The Price runs at the Stephen Joseph Theatre until 30 April.