There is a warmth to Alan Muir’s Strangers in the Night that feels distinct from the usual lunchtime fare. Returning to A Play, A Pie and A Pint—where he debuted his acclaimed The Greatest in 2018—Muir has delivered a sterling drama that would have slotted seamlessly into the golden age of television theatre, evoking the intimacy and character focus of a Play for Today or a Wednesday Play.
Anchored by two powerhouse performances and Cora Bissett’s astute direction, this is a production that embraces sentimentality without drowning in it.
The Full Shilling Club
Set within the comfortable confines of a retirement village, the narrative rests on the “Full Shilling Club”—the self-appointed title for the evening sessions between retired thespian May (Juliet Cadzow) and the grizzled, unbowed storyteller Jimmy (William MacBain). Meeting over a contraband bottle, they trade tales of the past to keep the present at bay.
Nostalgic deep-dives might be a trap which stops them from moving on, but it’s also how they tell each other (and the world) who they are.
It is an elegantly simple hook, allowing ample space for MacBain and Cadzow to construct two memorable, flawed, and immensely likable characters. MacBain’s Jimmy uses his colourful tales & abundant patter to hide a secret shame, while Cadzow’s May uses theatrical bravado to mask a creeping fear of dementia.
Anchored by two powerhouse performances and Cora Bissett’s astute direction, this is a production that embraces sentimentality without drowning in it.
They are subconsciously aware of their co-dependency, yet unwilling to voice it lest they shatter the friendship sustaining them both. The result is a masterclass in chemistry, capturing the delicate dance of two people holding onto dignity with white knuckles.
Arch Scottishness and Judicious Stardust
Cora Bissett proves to be the perfect director for Muir’s material, happily sinking into the script’s wry Scottishness. She creates a world rich in local colour, from the everyday banter to specific mythologies of the Locarno and Frank Sinatra’s legendary 1990 concert at Ibrox.
Bissett gives her actors room to breathe, establishing the pair’s comforting daily cadence—May departing Jimmy’s flat with mock formality, the two rings on the phone to signal she’s home safe—in anticipation of the bombshells yet to fall. Is the result sentimental? Undeniably. But there is nothing wrong with sentimentality when it is executed with this level of craft.
Society as it Should Be
Muir understands that these two loving souls would never admit their fears without a push, introducing the catalyst in the form of Christine (Lola Aluko). Aluko is excellent as the compassionate care worker, possessing the keen eyes needed to spot that the threat to May lies not in her mind, but in her “loving” yet absent son.
Christine represents society as it should be—an optimistic, perhaps aspirational view of a care system often overworked and underpaid in 2025—but she grounds the play’s moral centre. It is she who prods Jimmy out of his chair and into action – their cross-generational friendship proving beneficial to them both.
Cora Bissett proves to be the perfect director for Muir’s material, happily sinking into the script’s wry Scottishness.
Strangers in the Night suggests that sometimes the good guys do win
Muir is smart enough to plant the seeds of the play’s resolution early, disguising them as omens of ill-will until they bloom into a deliciously logical silver lining. When the play reaches its happy—but not ridiculous—conclusion, the emotional payoff is genuine. It invites a level of investment in its heroes capable of bringing a tear to the eye, driven by the genuine peril that they might not seize their chance.
Strangers in the Night is a very personal theatrical adventure that reminds us of the practical benefits of love and true friendship. It is a heartening, beautifully realised conclusion to the season.
Featured Image: Juliet Cadzow, William MacBain – Strangers in the Night – Tommy Ga-Ken Wan
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