‘I like London. I like the pavements. I like to walk out my door and not sink up to my tits in primordial sludge.’
A comedy thriller from the author of the Olivier Award-winning Jerusalem.
West waits in a burnt-out farmhouse, on Dartmoor, in the depths of winter, for two associates from the city. The wine has been poured and the revolver loaded. But who is waiting upstairs?
Jez Butterworth’s play The Winterling was first performed at the Royal Court Theatre, London, in 2006.
‘Characteristically moreish thanks to its high-definition misfits and clash of casual domesticity and menace’
— Time Out
‘A gobsmacking verve that is sadly rare in today’s British theatre… written with all of Butterworth’s characteristically high-octane flair, the text flashes with jokes, shines with images and oozes menacing bonhomie… it really rocks’