Take two seemingly successful, middle class, academic couples, mix at a late night after-party, add plenty of alcohol and watch the pretences fall away. That is basically the plot of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? And it is not for the faint-hearted.

The play opens with the two main characters, history professor George and his wife Martha, coming home after a university party.

Even though it is 2am, they are expecting guests – a much younger professor and his new wife. George and Martha proceed to humiliate each other in front of the younger couple, exposing each other’s weaknesses and invoking jealousy and rage.

This is done through a series of “games” such as “hump the hostess” and “get the guests”.

In playwright Edward Albee’s own words, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is a grotesque comedy, which is an apt description.

It was discomforting to watch the couples tear each other apart, especially as the long-married couple know exactly which buttons to press for maximum humiliation. The couple have one of those intense relationships which switch from love to hate, lust to sadism and contempt.

Do they genuinely love each other? Probably not, but the relationship is anything but indifferent.

Tim Pigott-Smith is well cast as George, the fading academic whose early hopes and dreams have faded but who hangs onto some of his illusions.

Clare Higgins plays his wife Martha, who has survived the loss of her dreams by spinning a whole web of illusions. That is the key to the title – who’s afraid of living life without false illusions.

Nathan Wiley struck a believable note as the handsome, young professor although Iris Roberts, who plays Nick’s wife Honey, was too saccharine sweet and artificial for me. The set was brilliant, with the passage of time being creatively expressed through the changing light on the backdrop of trees outside George and Martha’s living room.

The script is relieved by a little humour but, ultimately, the play was too nihilistic for me. I didn’t warm to the characters and was consequently not touched by the tragedy of their lives.