That Alan Bennett could write The Habit of Art in 2009, aged 75, is overwhelming proof of his continued vitality and wit. Whereas The History Boys was enjoyable on all levels, this play is deeply moving, a carefully thought out piece about creative work, and extremely complex with layers upon layers keeping the audience wide awake.

The play is about W.H.Auden - poet - and Benjamin Britten - composer. It is also about work in the theatre, biographies, old age, and fear, and though the two collaborated in the past, this is their first meeting after 20 years. But what we see is two actors playing Auden and Britten (Ian Recordon and Martin South) in a rehearsal for a new play about them (author played by Mark Macey.) Early on, Auden mistakes his future biographer, Humphrey Carpenter (Dan Usztan) who has come to interview him for the BBC for the rent boy previously ordered by phone (Neil Bowman). Carpenter frequently steps out of time and is a sort of choric commentator, challenging the author and cheekily offering script changes.

Living in cluttered filth, peeing in the sink, Auden is breezily presented "warts and all", yet his need to continue working and writing (even if his poems are no longer published), and the habit of art keep him blazingly alive. Despite an obsession with time keeping, (he can't complete an act with the rent boy because the clock struck six, and he has always completed before six) he is nevertheless the epitome of "larger than life", never more so than when holding forth about anything and everybody … despite a failing memory.

No one could be more opposite than Britten. Prissy, precise, uptight, guarded, with a pained look on his face as though permanently clenching his buttocks, he has come to see Auden because he's facing problems with the libretto of his new opera, Death in Venice, based on the novella by Thomas Mann. Thought to have autobiographical overtones, it is the story of a famous but fading actor visiting Venice during a cholera epidemic. He sees a young boy of startling beauty, becomes besotted, and finally dies on the beach, gazing longingly at the boy far off in the sea, seemingly waving towards him. Britten's problem is that – as everyone knows but nobody says – he is attracted to adolescent boys, and his previous works (Peter Grimes or The Turn of the Screw) all feature the allure of innocent boys, so he feels this new work may reveal too much of himself. This fires Auden, who begs - insists - that he be allowed to write the libretto and thus work usefully again. (It never happened.) This allows a brilliant discussion between the two men on the nature of art, the need for creativity, the imperative of work itself. Just as we the audience are totally convinced we are listening to two brilliant men talking, one or the other will step out of character to address the playwright or question the stage manager (Sue Brodie) and we are thrown back into rehearsal mood.

Even this brief précis indicates what a massive undertaking this was, and director Victor Craven and all cast and crew deserve the highest praise and thanks. 13 characters on stage - many of them sitting on the sidelines either sewing, note taking, prompting, etc., as well as massive personalities taking centre stage … not to mention the army of backstage crew and the superbly complicated and effective set design by Jude Chalk. Ian Recordon's portrayal of an actor (uncertain of his lines) portraying Auden was masterly. Although no one could have the lined, creviced face of Auden, nevertheless Ian showed the tetchiness, uncertainty, yet egoism the role demanded. He is blessed with mobile features… when he smiles his eyes and whole face light up … and his habit of not looking directly at someone when saying something unpleasant is true to life.

Martin South's playing the role of Britten was absolutely spot on. The composer's every mannerism noted : sitting with knees & feet tightly together, offering a hand to Auden instead of accepting his embrace, biting out the name "Tippett" through tight lips, every anal characteristic conveyed - though, it must be said, his rehearsal of a young boy singing came across as warm and encouraging. He too was blessed by the fact that he actually looks quite like Alex Jennings, who played the role at the National and which we oldies remember well. I've seen Dan Usztan at the Tower before, but never as good as in his role of Carpenter. Perfectly nuanced camp, a hilarious drag queen, and the desperate nervousness of an actor unsure of himself – a totally true performance. Andy Murton in the small role of the ASM George also paid great attention to every detail, and our old friend Colin Guthrie as the rehearsal pianist did, in fact, much more.

Rent boy Neil Bowman, worried that he looked too old to be a rent "boy" looked fine to me, (but then, what would I know?) At times, he seemed underpowered, and though the initial hesitancy was believable, a little more energy in the role would not have come amiss. I would have cared about his final speech (about being left out) more if he had cared more….it seemed a bit too thrown away. In some ways, I felt the same about Mark Macey as the author. Given that the director was not at the rehearsal, this would have been an ideal opportunity to make himself heard and felt but Mark's quiet delivery belied his annoyance at the actor's antics. As played by Sue Brodie, the wonderful role of Stage Manager Kay was too often turned into a comic character. Instead of kindness but firmness, there was too much smiling and sweetness. However, in the very last conversation between her and the author, Sue was serious and true, and at her best describing the nature of actors and acting, and how the actual building affected them.

I've omitted a great many people, but all combined to make this a highlight of the Tower's repertoire. My sincere thanks to everyone.

Photography by David Sprecher