This adaptation starts with the device of showing a modern couple around a house. The woman loves its original features, wants to peel back the wallpaper, expose the ceiling rose and so on. But who are the ghosts who made this house, what lies under the metaphorical paintwork? Well, as all gud socialists kno, the house was made by the honest sweat and toil of Working Folk. These Working Folk wanted to make a very good, very crafsman-like job, if only the evil capitalists would let them. (And yes, they are all Men Folk, although Women Folk do weild brooms later). This is in no way Brenton's invention. Tressel's book is pretty much like this; it is a tract and it is of its time. But having said that, the resonances with today are strongly there, emphasised by watching this on Austerity Budget Day - it is clear who suffers when austerity measures come in and costs need to be cut. Even better, watching the scenes of the Council, full of fat cats furthering their own interests with only Councillor Weakling providing a largely ignored conscience, it was impossible not to think of the Coalition Cabinet and Weakling Clegg. This was a gift that even Brenton could not foresee.

Past work suggests Brenton is a master at polemics and at finding the farce within grim situations, and we see some of his trademarks with the masked councillors and set pieces. But here he often fails to find the humour, even the humour that Tressel finds. Worse, he fails to capitalise (geddit?) on the drama inherent in the storytelling. When Old Joe gets the sack, this should be the biggest tearjerker known to Socialists since Boxer got sent to make glue. In fact, I for one wondered why he was taking so much time to get offstage. And here lies the much bigger problem; the direction. This is an eclectic mix of realism, an artificial, declamatory style, and a Brechtian breaking down of the Fourth Wall. That doesn't have to be a bad thing; we are after all in a postmodern age and audiences are sophisticated. But mixes of conventions in this way can be disconcerting. And in this case it didn't help an already disjointed script which was made moreso by disjointed action and a mix of convention on stage.

The first half felt long and more than a little joyless, and a pun about watching paint dry is almost irrisistable. This is a pity as Tressel's is in no way a joyless socialism. Unlike lesser writers, his working class characters are allowed to have fun without the reader feeling the heavy hand of doom over every laugh.

The second half by contrast was much more fun, with set piece after set piece which the post-interval-pint audience enjoyed much more. However it was much more disjointed for that. Moreover, it felt like an opportunity missed. Making the show more physical, and using the whole of the space and not only the stage, would have made it much more dynamic and would have helped it have a real Everyman stamp. More than that, it would have made the audience feel more a part of the action - and this Everyman audience was up for that, you could feel them wanting to take part in votes and indeed a section burst into applause after a particularly rousing speech about the nature of socialism. This was not applause at the performance but support for the message; the audience wanted to engage and show their engagement, and this production didn't allow them to. In addition, the scenes of the modern couple which bookend the piece don't particularly add anything and lead to a rather weak ending. 

Ultimately it was a curate's egg and while this production is worth seeing it is not an entire success either as an adaptation or a standalone work. This is a pity not only because Tressel's work has  such resonance today but because the talented ensemble cast deserved a better vehicle.

The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists at the Liverpool Everyman continues until 10th July