Beef at Hull Truck - the play, not an argument

Considering last week's news that short and/or skinny people get paid less on average than their taller and/or fatter co-workers, it's reassuring (as a short, scrawny bloke) to have John Godber's one-man show Beef demonstrate that the weedy victim of bullying can achieve more than his bigger (dare I say it, beefier) bullies.

Hull Truck regular Matthew Booth takes the lead (Dave) in this re-staging in the Truck's new studio venue – the first all-professional production in there – that has toured before returning to roost in Hull. Perhaps fortunately, the beef of the title bears no relation to any animals (at least not of the bovine variety; there's an argument to be made about animalistic men). It's used in the human sense of enhanced muscles, in the late seventies and early eighties when body-building was just becoming big. The true story is of a body-builder who returns to his northern mining town home seeking revenge on the old school bullies who called him 'Dumbo', among other classically flattering schoolboy nicknames. He's evened up the odds a bit though, by beefing up (ahem) and arriving as the UK Powerlifting champion – he's a big, hefty bloke.

It's a deliberately stark contrast with the play's first half. In fact, there's a major shift after the interval. Booth starts with his natural physique – muttering away to himself – persuading himself to work out. Six years later he looks like a muscular Michelin Man. He struts around his gym, ready for violence.

He's still completely alone though. The woman of his dreams is now a kinky widow/single mum. Unluckily for Dave, she's only interested in sex with the 'animal men' of the town. While they're fascinated by him, and willing to be his friends, they're also the former bullies. What's worse is that they're happy to share her around, but she doesn't want Dave. Poor bloke.

I say he's 'alone'...before the interval Booth gives us a loner and first-rate fantasist. His anger and grief are directed inwards; his quest for revenge happens mostly in his imagination. Later, there's still an awful lot of talk like 'I'd do this' and 'I almost said' – to which the response is always 'But you didn't, did you?'.

So, in the end, does Dave use the Gurkha knife to cut off his enemies' hands? Probably not. What an inconclusive end to one man's story told from only one perspective.