Passionate Pinter

A young man sits with a woman. He tells her to lift her skirt above her knees and uncross her legs. "Like this?" she asks. The scene, with its interplay between dominant male and seductive, submissive woman, sounds like a variation on a familiar Harold Pinter theme. So it almost is. For The Dwarfs, Pinter's only novel, which he completed in 1956 and revised for publication in 1989, has been valuably adapted for the stage by Kerry Lee Crabbe.

It is embryonic Pinter indeed. Sexual rivalry, a triangular relationship, disruptive female catalyst and intense male friendship all feature in this semi-autobiographical work. And in the riveting second half of this world premiere production there is something that Pinter has never since articulated with such a complex sense of sadness, disillusionment and anger: the collapse of a homoerotic friendship.

I have not read The Dwarfs in its original form. But this adaptation in 29 scenes comes with Pinter's blessing. And Christopher Morgan's elegant production, which deftly switches between multiple locations, deserves to be judged in its own, dramatic right.

The scene is Pinter's own, happy old times, the Hackney of 1950, its green open spaces and private interiors. Young chaps look bizarrely dated in gaberdine macs and duffel coats. They speak in true, quaint Pinterese.

Eileen Diss's sparse, stylised set, with sliding panels, the odd table, dilapidated armchair and orange Penguin books hardly distinguishes between the homes of three friends: Mark, a confident young actor not unlike young Pinter, is close buddies with truculent Pete, while their mutual friend Len, a porter at Euston station, is possessed by delusions about dwarfs and remains semi-detached from them. The dwarfs and their exorcism loom far too obscurely.

Lee Crabbe's script unfortunately takes too much dull, dawdling time to reach the heart of the sexual matter. When Pete's abused girlfriend Christine (Daisy Haggard), often seen in silhouette behind gauze screens, sends him packing, Mark instantly fills the gap.

Ironically, it is not Mark's disloyalty that kills the men's friendship but Christine's malign intervention. In the pained, magnificently acted last encounter Ben Caplan's Mark seethes with fury and sadness while Jamie Lee, equally impressive as the bitter, regretful Pete, keeps his cool. Pinter has never written with more interesting passion and eloquence than in this finale.

Until 31 May. Box office: 020 7328 1000.

The Dwarfs