by Noel Coward

The Vortex crystallises all the anxiety of the early 1920s, post-war twitchiness, glossed over by martinis and mannered cigarettes. Coward explores the darker side of the Cocktail Party set; emotional blackmail, drug abuse and shattered relationships are minutely observed in this disturbing, early piece from a playwright whose sharp eye was more usually turned towards the light.

Coward's central characters are like specks of dirt approaching the plughole of a draining bath. The closer they get to the hole, the faster they spiral. Florence is desperate to hold onto her youth, even if it's only through her toyboy lover. When Florence's son returns with a fiancée in tow, a crisis occurs as the girl swiftly swaps her affections from him to Florence's lover. Mother and son both dumped, the stage is set for a blistering confrontation.

The Vortex was the play that made Coward's name and firmly established him as both a dramatist and an actor - he'd been at pains to ensure the play included "a whacking good part" for himself - and it was the roaring twenties equivalent of today's socalled in-yer-face theatre, the Shopping and F***ing of the jazz age.