First prize: a Cadillac Eldorado car. Second: a set of steak knives. They will be awarded to the month’s top salesmen, and, my, what raw emotions they raise in David Mamet’s 1982 play Glengarry Glen Ross. The knives may be a big step down from the car, but they could come in very handy, you feel, for sticking in a colleague’s back.

The salesmen work in a high-pressure real estate office, where a giant board displays each individual’s sales for the month, alongside the company mission statement “Always Be Closing” — meaning always be completing a deal. Significantly, only towards the end of the play does someone have the conscience to query whether a particular deal might be right for the buyer, or whether the mortgage repayments are affordable.

“What bus did you get off? It’s my ass that’s involved here,” snaps pressurised salesman Shelly (Lloyd Houston) as he lunches with manager John (Ziad Samaha). Shelly scored zero sales last month. As the meal goes on, there is much table thumping and finger jabbing as points are made. Several insincere “trust me, I’m your friend” slaps on the back follow, but the implication is clear: Shelly’s job is on the line, and he’s likely to resort to sharp practice, or downright dishonesty, to keep it.

Director Jamie MacDonagh presented a vivid and convincing account of the cut-throat world of macho American salesmen in this impressive student production.

Aggressive body language was well observed, and Mamet’s dialogue was snappily delivered by an ensemble cast, which included, besides those already mentioned, Jordan Waller, Joe Bayley, Will Hatcher, Rhys Bevan and Ollo Clark.

A capacity student audience laughed long and loud at times. But Mamet’s play hasn’t dated at all: some of those sitting around me will one day find themselves in similarly vicious business situations. Who will be laughing then?