A
gripping spat has broken out on the internet between the playwright Patrick
Marber and the journalist Grub Smith. A wonderful new production of Marber's
Dealer's Choice is showing at Trafalgar Studios in London, and Smith wrote a
critical blog questioning the authenticity of its poker scenes. He argued that
no action player would fold a set (as happens in this play); and that when a
character moves all-in on the turn and shows two cards for no pair and a flush
draw, it's a technical impossibility to then make a full house on the
river.
Two factors make
this blog especially riveting. The first is Smith's open
admission that he has resented Marber for years because the playwright once
dated a girl with whom Smith was in love. The second is that Marber actually
hits back with a series of replies, first dismissing the date as an innocent
cup of tea, then pointing out (far more entertainingly, to the keen poker
player) that the "unbelievable fold" is actually a revealing tactical move, and
that it's easy for a flush draw to become a full house on the river if you are,
like these characters, playing Omaha.
Leaving aside the juicy love
triangle, and the well-defended accuracy of the hands, the real truth of
Dealer's Choice runs much deeper than technicalities anyway. First staged in
1995, it returns to a world where poker has exploded: magazines and TV rush to
show us the internet millionaires, the teenage success stories and the Ferrari
lifestyles. This play deals with hopeful, hopeless, desperate men, scrabbling
pitifully for £100 and the pride that might come with it.
"Inauthenticity" is quite the wrong accusation to make; in our current fever of
gambling fantasy, I'd say Dealer's Choice is a cool and curative glass of
realism.