Composed of scenes between only two characters at a time, the play has a somewhat hollow, written-for-radio feeling, emphasised by the starkness of the set. I do not think the real Gilbert Harding would have said “acronym” when he meant “abbreviation”.None of this, however, prevents the play, in David Giles’s skilful production, from being clever and touching, full of comedy and insight, and chilling in its recreation of the terror felt by homosexuals in those shameful years of the sex Gestapo. Then in his fifties, Harding, despite his robust public persona, was self-destructive and bitter, despising the role of licensed buffoon, and parading his intellect (or so he thought) by stuffing his conversation with long words. “Sustenance!” says his exasperated cleaning lady (adorable Frances Cuka). “Why can’t he say ‘food’?” “I am at the summit of some kind of heap,” he says, and the connotations of that last word are not pretty.As Midgely, who is also gay but far more reserved, Jonathon Cullen beautifully embodies the man’s decency and tact, inflected humorously by his partly unconscious imitation of the great man.

Edward Woodward is, surprisingly, more effective in the campy scenes (as when he suggests that, since Midgely doesn’t know shorthand, he might come across with something “in lieu”) than in the dignified ones. But he is magnificent in the scene in which the two men are intimidated by a police detective, and their roles are reversed, the indiscreet Harding protecting the trembling, shattered Midgely. To the policeman’s triumphant “You admit – !” Harding grandly replies, “‘Admit’ is a somewhat overloaded verb, even for such an attenuated vocabulary as yours.”Despite the play’s sensitivity, the little burst of applause that followed showed that the most touching thing about an evening can sometimes be the audience.To Saturday (01483 440000). Britain’s biggest poetry award was won by Peter Porter last night. But this year’s Forward Poetry Prize has been overshadowed by controversy, with the original chairman of the judges standing down amid allegations of bias.

His place as chairman was taken by the prize’s organiser, William Sieghart, the magazine publisher and founder of the Forward Poetry Trust.Mr Sieghart said the claims of bias were “groundless” and that Donaghy stepped downto ensure “that the panel once again has nothing to consider but the quality of the books, so that every book had an even chance”.Porter, who is published by Picador, arrived in Britain from Australia 50 years ago and has lived here ever since. He has frequently visited Australia and considers himself part of the poetical worlds of both nations. Since 1968 he has been a full-time poet, freelance literary journalist, broadcaster and reviewer.The judges said of Porter that “few poets now share his sense of the big picture, his ability to read the small event against the waxings and wanings of culture and empire”.Two other awards were given at the ceremony in London. Tom French won the £5,000 Waterstone’s Prize for Best First Collection 2002 for Touching the Bones. Medbh McGuckian won the £1,000 Tolman Cunard Prize for Best Single Poem with “She is in the Past, She has his Grace”.

The poem was published in the poetry magazine The Shop.Mr Sieghart said: “I am delighted that Peter Porter is the winner of this year’s Forward Prize by unanimous decision. Porter is one of the most distinguished poets at work in Britain today. Max is Missing is a contemporary, witty, urbane and vibrant collection. To anybody with any curiosity, it will be seen at once as both urgent and timeless. A decaying potting shed where the poet Dylan Thomas wrote some of his most acclaimed works was removed from its clifftop site in the west Wales village of Laugharne yesterday for a £20,000 facelift.