Looking like the portrait in Tom Hiddleston’s attic, he stalks the stage with a lean, kinetic, raptor’s mien, glorying in verbal combat in a meticulous Romanian accent, ready to pounce on any weakness. He mounts the three tables that make up the bulk of the set as if they’re a winners’ podium and intimidates an accountant by squatting on his closed briefcase, like the creature in Fuselli’s painting The Nightmare. It’s a great, grandstanding, over the top performance, though even Rattigan’s most ardent cheerleaders would struggle to call this a great play.