The Basement, in the words of Edith Oliver, is "about a fussy, spinsterish bachelor whose carefully furnished basement flat is invaded late one night by his former roommate with a young girl in tow. Host is effusive in his welcome to former roommate, that is. Girl and former roommate strip naked and get into bed, as host, terribly rattled, continues to chatter. (The chatter is absolutely fine.) The intruders move in permanently, and soon the host's old pictures and bits of sculpture are replaced by a huge, bright, modern abstract. And there are other innovations. As the action progresses, the roles of lover and leftover switch back and forth, and the girl, like the old bum in The Caretaker, tries to set the men against each other and succeeds. There are scenes at a beach, in a cafe, and at a bogus deathbed, and there is a duel, which is fought on a dark stage with lighted broken bottles." In the end we are, it seems, back where we started. But not quite. We have seen, if only for a moment, the rather pathetic, trembling animals who lie beneath the veneer of the shaved, powdered exteriors, and we know that it is not relief that will come to them�just continuation.
Harold Pinter was a British playwright, screenwriter, director and actor. A Nobel Prize winner, Pinter was one of the most influential modern British dramatists with a writing career that spanned more than 50 years. His best-known plays include The Birthday Party (1957), The Homecoming (1964) and Betrayal (1978), each of which he adapted for the screen. His screenplay adaptations of others' works include The Servant (1963), The Go-Between (1971), The French Lieutenant's Woman (1981), The Trial (1993) and Sleuth (2007). He also directed or acted in radio, stage, television and film productions of his own and others' works.
Three short television plays written by Harold Pinter, the earliest (Night School) dating from 1960, the last (The Basement) from 1967, the longest (Tea Party) from 1965. Night School reads the best in that we are just given dialogue and a few stage directions; the other two have descriptions of shots, which I never think works well in script. Night School feels a little like The Birthday Party, but lacks the sense of menace. Perhaps the most notable thing about Tea Party and The Basement is the way they often break into very short scenes, often giving them a certain sense of randomness – I’m never sure why they begin and end where they do. They have the same sense of wit and discomfort we should expect from 1960s Pinter, but they don’t feel quite as dangerous, quite as disorientating. For anyone fascinated by Pinter they are fascinating, but overall probably minor work, repeating his concerns and motifs and situations, rather than rethinking them.