DESPITE impeccable performances from the three male stars of The Caretaker, whose run continues until tomorrow (Saturday), the play itself seems seriously dated.

The language of Harold Pinter's 1959 script has, for the most part, survived remarkably well. In look, words and substance the play could be a powerful contemporary commentary on the state of poverty and loneliness.

A lonely young geezer, Aston, once the victim of electric shock therapy, takes pity on a tramp caught up in a fight, generously inviting him into his fleapit home. Inevitably, the tramp's gratitude slips into expectancy, sob stories turn to bitching, laziness becomes selfish demand.

More isolated and troubled than ever, Aston is forced to ask the tramp to leave - a situation complicated by the tramp having made an ally in Aston's landlord brother. Forgetting the bond of blood, the tramp pushes too far and, on realising, is reduced to appealing to Aston for mercy.

It's a good story but, without subplots or the interest of women to bring alternative observations, is unnecessarily long.

In modern times we consume complex texts faster than the speed of light. Poignancy can be expressed in a split second. Lines unnecessarily repeated prove dull. This is not merely a new phenomenon, Shakespeare's plays are packed with innuendo, double meaning and sub-plot. In his times, as now, men embrace more than just the means of control.

Ally Hardy