What makes Athol Fugard such an important dramatist, for my money one of the most vital of the past half-century, is the way in which he chronicled multiple facets of apartheid-era South Africa. He’s best known for his eloquent criticism of the ruling politics yet, as Hello and Goodbye so poignantly reminds us in this elegant revival, he was also profoundly aware that “poor whites” lived lives of quiet desperation, too.

It is 1965, the height of Verwoerd’s crazy regime, but for Johnny Smit (Rafe Spall), the world stretches no further than the low-grade squalor of his tiny family house in Port Elizabeth. Into this funereal silence bursts long-gone sister Hester (Saskia Reeves), desperate to get her hands on the compensation money her father received after a work accident left him crippled. She wants to rummage through the accumulated cardboard boxes; Johnny is concerned about their father, sleeping in the next room.

It’s not hard to guess the plot twist that Fugard withholds until it’s chewier than elderly biltong, but this aside the piece is a beautifully modulated two-hander, exploring decades of bitterness, regret and family conflict without going anywhere near the dramatic cul-desac of hysteria. Reeves and Spall, whose South African accents lack precision, make a fine pair, him a gentle soul bewildered almost into imbecility by making so little of himself, her a ferocious creature seething with years of distilled resentment, who unpacks the boxes and uncovers only bad memories. “Life in here was second-hand, used up and old before we even got it,” she says, recalling the past so vividly we can almost see it.

Director Paul Robinson cricks his audience’s necks by having too much of the action stuck at one end of the stage but maintains a perfect tempo from the moment Hester and her bruises steam in until they march out again, back to meagre rented lodgings in Johannesburg. A highly recommended modern classic.

Until 17 May (0870 060 6632, www. theambassadors.com/trafalgarstudios)