The success of a double act (which I’m going to call this) depends, of course, on the technical or if you like, acting abilities of the individuals, but also, to an extent not usually required in ‘legit’ theatre, on the personalities of the duo. Add to this the unquantifiable chemistry between the two halves and you can see that to have any great success is going to be something less than a common occurrence.
In Stu Mcloughlin, who is currently enjoying his second role out of long trousers in as many months, having been in the recently praised Swallows and Amazons at the Old Vic, we have a Queen Elizabeth with an abundance of sunny personality. Brazenly ‘a lady’ in boots and defying anyone to gainsay it in a clever little song – the first of a small number nicely performed numbers – Mr Mcloughlin, who has a sweet voice, toughs out any incipient doubts the audience may have about his womanhood.
The play uses the simple conceit of Liz I writing in her diary the events that unfold during her reign. If Bridget Jones was frank in her diary, Elizabeth I is even franker with a song about virginity lamenting the loss of what seems to be a list of ‘categories’ from a porn site (so I’m told). She confides to Burghley that she wants a ‘vagazzle’ (look it up). This is history with attitude – and a loose grasp on life in the past, if not the actual events. A kind of ‘Horrible History’ for adults with in-you-face anachronisms that strut and skip between Elizabethan ages.
As anyone who was anyone in the Elizabethan age, Howard Coggins, is the stalwart foil to the giggly in-and-out-of-love queen. Spymaster Walsingham sneaks in as ‘The Milk Tray Man’, and a rapping Raleigh brings gifts from the New World. The Babbington affair is conducted in code and takes the form of letters to and from Mary Queen of Scots about ‘Agadoo’ by Black Lace, which are helpfully decoded by Walsingham. Robert Dudley, the love of Elizabeth’s life finally marries a lettuce (Lettice Knollys) to the chagrin of the queen and Will Shakespeare writes an epilogue.
The two work well together and it shows. As is often the case with such loosely tailored pieces there is much that is self-referential and lots of banter with the audience including a shameless plug for a touted CD. Director, Craig Edwards, has allowed the performers to do their own thing whilst making sure the comedy is not lost in self-indulgence. It’s a cracking recycling of all those little nuggets of Elizabethan history you learned at school, delivered with an unabashed frivolity that has the audience grinning from ear to ear from beginning to end. ★★★☆☆ Graham Wyles 02/03/15
