Tag Archives: DMLK

MONARCHS ANONYMOUS

★★★★

The Other Palace

MONARCHS ANONYMOUS

The Other Palace

★★★★

“the silliness of this play delights a willing house”

Monarchs Anonymous started as a YouTube sketch about history’s crowned heads dragged into group therapy. It’s a family production that has since grown into a fully staged comedy at The Other Palace. The premise alone is worth the ticket: a support group for history’s monarchs, the beheaded, the grandiose and the merely bored. The audience are co-opted into the session from the outset, donning cardboard crowns and reciting the group mantra, everyone a fellow sovereign. This lends the evening a cheerful complicity. While the concept has a near-bottomless mine of potential material, the script chooses to veer towards farce, playing to the gallery. That’s the intention. The audience laps it up.

The conceit is irresistible, and the acting is excellent. William Harry Mitchell’s Henry VIII clings to his emotional support weapon, Helena Devereux’s Marie Antoinette frets for more champagne, Joshua Poole’s Charles II can barely govern his libido, and George Eggay’s Mansa Musa I grumbles magnificently about being the least known of the rulers, yet the richest. The parade of sovereigns is a visual feast that earns its applause before a word is spoken (costumes by Kathy Brazier; theme music by Richard de Winter). There are some genuinely fine gags delivered with a knowing wink. The absent Tutankhamun, we are told, has gone back to his Mummy.

The show’s warm origin is palpable, built around a kitchen table by two generations of the same family running the Ceridwen Theatre Company: Nadia and Lyon Devereux co-wrote with Nadia’s husband Joshua Poole, Nadia also directs and plays Pam while her sister Helena takes Marie Antoinette, and their mother, Vivien Lesley Jones, production-manages.

The in-built issue of such productions is the need for outside editing. The script could be tightened. The opening overstays its welcome, circling the setup long after the audience have grasped it. The evening never reaches what it’s marketed as: the actual reckoning of these damaged, grandiose souls. Instead, the plot pivots on the machinations of the therapist, Dr Thompson, played by the historian Kat Marchant of YouTube’s Reading the Past. She acts very well, but her character is the least interesting figure in the room. The genuine psychoanalysis that is marketed as the beating heart of the piece is repeatedly deferred in favour of farce.

In the second half, the monarchs shed their robes and crowns for everyday wear, and the question sharpens: stripped of regalia, who are these people? Is a king without a kingdom simply a man with opinions and a grievance? Harriet Sharmini Smithers’s Sophia Duleep Singh (suffragette and exiled Punjabi princess) lands the idea most pointedly. There is another play hiding inside this one, a play that stops winking to the gallery and lets the premise breathe. And yet, perhaps this is the treatment monarchs deserve. The more the mystery is unveiled, the sillier our own royal family looks. Perhaps, behind the palace doors, this bickering and self-regard is all any of them amounts to.

Taken on its own terms, the silliness of this play delights a willing house. The crown, as it were, is slightly askew. It is still very much worth the audience.

 



MONARCHS ANONYMOUS

The Other Palace

Reviewed on 24th June 2026

by Elizabeth Botsford

Photography by DMLK


 

 

 

 

MONARCHS ANONYMOUS

MONARCHS ANONYMOUS

MONARCHS ANONYMOUS

TWO OF US

★★★★

Watford Palace Theatre

TWO OF US at the Watford Palace Theatre

★★★★

“Both actors are pretty accomplished pianists, and we feel the bonhomie as they jam together”

“You and I have memories – longer than the road that stretches out ahead”. Although Paul McCartney wrote those lines – from the song ‘Two of Us’ – for his wife Linda, it has always been interpreted as a gesture of affection to John Lennon; made all the more moving as the Beatle’s were well on the way to breaking up. When the Beatles eventually split, the rift between Lennon and McCartney was famously chronicled in the pair’s musical output. Lennon’s “How do you Sleep?” was probably the most scathing, rebuffed by McCartney’s deliberately lightweight and tongue-in-cheek “Silly Love Songs”. The global phenomenon of McCartney’s “Yesterday” was always a bugbear of Lennon’s. The reality was always kept close to the couple’s chests, but speculation was fuelled across the media and around gramophone players as fans pored over the lyrics looking for extra layers of meaning.

Among them was self-confessed Beatles nut, Mark Stanfield, who used the song title for his 2000 film “Two of Us” which became a cult favourite. Now, re-written for the stage with Barry Sloane and Richard Short, it has evolved into a poignant study of friendship, of falling out, reconciliation and looking out for someone. “Two of Us” could be you and me; could be anyone. It’s an ‘everyman’ story, but built around the Lennon-MacCartney duo, it is an inspired choice that dishes out some gripping and honest dialogue.

We are in Lennon’s apartment in The Dakota, overlooking Central Park in 1976, and Paul McCartney turns up unannounced. It was to be the last time they met. The atmosphere is immediately evoked by Amy Jane Cook’s sparse but functional whitewashed apartment – complete with white grand piano. Adrienne Quartly’s realistic sound design firmly places Manhattan six storeys below. Barry Sloane’s Lennon is alone, dressed in a white kimono, jittery and distracted. We immediately wonder if he is okay. Cold Turkey comes to mind, but is it depression? Anxiety? Sloane masterfully gets under the fame, and the skin, to reveal Lennon’s vulnerability beneath the incisive shell. When Jay Johnson’s McCartney crosses the threshold, they initially tread cautiously around each other afraid to break the shell, yet past gripes are clearly seen through the cracks. Johnson is convincing as ‘Macca’ – at times the cheeky-chappy-Scouser whilst also having the gravitas and licence to neutralise Lennon’s acidity. But moreover, Johnson reveals a deeply caring soul who lives with the regret of being unable to fully express his love for his lifelong friend.

The ice breaks at the piano. Both actors are pretty accomplished pianists, and we feel the bonhomie as they jam together. But old wounds resurface, replaced almost as quickly by fond memories, adolescent mischief and a generous supply of wacky baccy. Scot Williams directs with a Pinteresque eye, allowing the action and the emotions to unfold in real time. Sometimes the pauses and silences drag, but for the most part they give us time to prepare ourselves for the next twist in the encounter. In a similar way, McCartney seems to be constantly bracing himself for the attack.

The two actors give powerfully realistic performances, although occasionally hindered by platitudes. And, although not necessarily a revelation, we see another side to the characters. Historical facts are teased out (sometimes via cringeworthy puns) rather than force fed to us, which is a refreshing change from the exposition that often plagues plays like this. Ultimately it is a love story. Of sorts. It comes from the writer’s heart. The final scenes hover between pathos and schmaltz, not quite sure which side of the boundary to land. Yet we are moved. And entertained. Whatever issues underlie the relationship, or sorrows that remain unresolved, “Two of Us” knows how to ‘take a sad song and make it better’.


TWO OF US at the Watford Palace Theatre

Reviewed on 17th September 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Ross Kernahan

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE 1936 | ★★★★ | March 2023
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST | ★★★★ | December 2022

TWO OF US

TWO OF US

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