— 'There's money at stake but you have to dig deeper'

As he’s set to play a poker-loving ladies’ man in the Donmar’s revival of ‘Dealer’s Choice’, Alfie Allen talks to Phil Harrison about male friendship, SAS love letters and desert shoots

- Phil Harrison

“Play the man, not the cards.” It’s a credo that goes to the heart of the game of poker – and it’s central to Patrick Marber’s 1995 play Dealer’s Choice, which is being revived at London’s Donmar Theatre this month.

Poker is a simple game of statistical probability, but also a complex mesh of psychology and personality, and no one wins by relying on maths alone. In poker, the harder someone tries to make themselves unreadable, the more likely they are to show everything. It’s this sense of enigma that is at the heart of so many of Alfie Allen’s performances, which, in recent years, have encompassed a Tony-nominated turn on Broadway, primetime BBC dramas and acclaimed film roles. There’s a sense of selfcontainment but also of still waters running deep. It’s no surprise that the play’s producers have cast Allen as Frankie, considered the best poker player among the friends who play a weekly game together in what was Marber’s debut.

Having caught the laddish zeitgeist in its year of release, Dealer’s Choice has proved endlessly revivable; it’s knotty and complex enough to plausibly return and make sense in any number of different eras and contexts. It centres around a group of men – all working in the same restaurant, all struggling with thwarted dreams and all hoping, slightly desperately for something better. They’re united by their poker games; a realm in which they can take responsibility and simultaneously surrender it.