Tag Archives: ELIZABETH BOTSFORD

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

HMS PINAFORE

★★★★★

Theatre at the Tabard

HMS PINAFORE

Theatre at the Tabard

★★★★★

“small-scale theatre at its very best: warm, witty, and quietly extraordinary”

The Tabard’s H.M.S. Pinafore, a follow-up from the same creative team behind last season’s much-loved Mikado, is the rarest of theatrical conjuring tricks: a production so thoroughly delightful you forget it has no orchestra, no ensemble of dozens, and a notable absence of rigging, given its setting on a Royal Navy warship. For all its ultra-low budget limitations, this production is not merely charming. It is enchanting.

Director Keith Strachan corrals Gilbert and Sullivan’s 1878 satire on class, love and social hierarchy into an intimate ninety-six-seat space with a confidence that borders on cheek. Captain Corcoran’s daughter Josephine (played by Stevie Jennings-Adams) is in love with the humble sailor Ralph Rackstraw (Finan McKinney). Her father (Leopold Benedict) has grander designs, in the form of Sir Joseph Porter, First Lord of the Admiralty (John Griffiths). A harbour trader with her secret of mistaken identities does the rest.

The standout is Gloria Acquaah-Harrison’s Little Buttercup. Warm and mischievous, she gives the dockside vendor a rich emotional centre that anchors every scene she touches. With the plot hinging on her secret, Acquaah-Harrison provides both glint and genuine feeling.

Equally remarkable is Marissa Landy as Cousin Hebe. When she is not delivering tart comic timing in the chorus, she picks up a flute to provide half the score, and at one point breaks into a tap routine with such joy that the audience cheered. To sing, dance and play in one performance is graft elevated to high art. Kieran Wynn’s Bosun and Ryan Erikson Downey as Dick Deadeye round out the company with cheerful aplomb.

The sublime score is carried by Landy’s flute and Musical Director Annemarie Lewis Thomas at the piano. Sullivan’s tunes emerge as bright and shapely as ever.

Gilbert and Sullivan was always meant for rooms like this. In Victorian times the score travelled the Empire in sheet music, sung by families round the parlour piano and in British clubs from Calcutta to Cape Town. This production sits squarely in that tradition. It is conventional, too, to tweak the lyrics to the moment; here the music itself has been gently rearranged for the company’s gifts, with doo-wop renderings of old favourites. The entire evening was a delight.

What the production lacks in budget it more than answers in invention. There is a particularly clever moment during “He Is an Englishman” when the audience waves Union Jacks, while the cast brandish flags reflecting their own heritage, for example a Scot raises the Saltire. Watching it, I understood for the first time the irony of how the high-Victorian expressions of patriotism that Gilbert lampooned in 1878 inspired the nationalisms that undid the empire. From the first rumblings of Irish Home Rule in the 1880s to the long road that led, eventually, to Sir Muhammad Iqbal and the idea of a separate state for India’s Muslims, it was the British who showed them how to do it. Patriotism, it turns out, is contagious.

This is small-scale theatre at its very best: warm, witty, and quietly extraordinary.



HMS PINAFORE

Theatre at the Tabard

Reviewed on 7th May 2026

by Elizabeth Botsford

Photography by Matt Hunter @huntercollins_photography


 

 

 

 

HMS PINAFORE

HMS PINAFORE

HMS PINAFORE