THE CROWN JEWELS at the Garrick Theatre

★★★

“survives on the energy of its comedians, and the competence of the rest of the cast”

Expect to be disappointed if you turn up to the Garrick Theatre for an historically accurate show about King Charles II and the theft of the Crown Jewels in 1671. If, on the other hand, you are buying a ticket for Simon Nye’s The Crown Jewels because you know that several of Britain’s leading comedians and stand up artists are in the cast, you will probably enjoy this show. You will then, quite rightly, be expecting an entertaining evening full of ad libs and dangerously outrageous exchanges with the audience. But let me give you some words of advice anyway: gentlemen, don’t sit in the first three rows if you aren’t sporting a well made periwig. And ladies, don’t sit there either if your partner is even slightly prone to fits of jealousy. Don’t expect to be safe from the cast’s attention if you splurged on tickets for a box, either.

The facts surrounding the seventeenth century’s most notorious jewel heist are well known. But if you need a refresher, the programme notes for The Crown Jewels are well written and provide a wealth of background information about the main characters in Nye’s drama. The appropriately named Colonel Thomas Blood apparently hatched a plot to steal the Crown Jewels from the Tower of London in an attempt to recover his Irish estates. Blood lost those as a result of switching sides to support the Parliamentarians under Oliver Cromwell during the English Civil War. Hatching plots against the Crown was nothing new to Blood—he’d been involved in several—but stealing the royal regalia was the crowning event of his career, as it were. If only Nye’s play was as well constructed as the programme notes. But The Crown Jewels is a shaky mash up in Horrible Histories, Blackadder—and even Panto—territory, and we’re nowhere near panto season in August. But perhaps it doesn’t matter. The Crown Jewels has been created to provide a rich—seriously rich—backdrop for its comic stars. It’s difficult not to see the rest of the show as just adroitly crafted stage management of a complicated set with lots of changing scenery.

It takes a while to warm to The Crown Jewels, and this is mostly time spent trying to figure out the plot. The characters on stage bear no resemblance whatsoever to the historical figures they are meant to represent. But let’s list them anyway. There’s Al Murray, (of Pub Landlord fame) playing Charles II with a strangled accent, Mel Giedroyc, (Great British Bake Off) doubling as the Keeper of the Crown Jewels’ gap toothed wife and—a brilliant contrast this —a very seductive French Noblewoman; Neil Morrissey (Men Behaving Badly) as Blood’s co-conspirator Captain Perrot; and Joe Thomas (The Inbetweeners) as Blood’s son. Carrie Hope Fletcher is given the opportunity to show off her beautiful singing voice as Elizabeth Edwards. She otherwise has little else to do as the Keeper’s daughter desperately searching for a husband, if only to avoid calling the Tower of London, home. The gifted Aidan McArdle as Colonel Blood has the thankless task of acting the villain, yet manages to make him sympathetic. Adonis Siddique has the even more thankless task of supporting Charles II as a footman.

But the real crown jewel of this production is, of course, Al Murray, doing his recognizable schtick as the Merry Monarch himself. There are lots of inappropriate jokes of all kinds, involving the newly discovered banana, to mention just one routine. McArdle really had my sympathy there. And on this particular evening, Murray set up a lively exchange with a couple of audience members from Australia (still undiscovered in Charles II’s time.) The Dutch also came in for a particular roasting, as the historical Charles was still smarting, in 1671, from a daring naval attack on London. One or two supporters attempted to stand up for the poor Dutch, and were ruthlessly put back in their places. Murray knows how to work his crowd.

The Crown Jewels survives on the energy of its comedians, and the competence of the rest of the cast. The set design by Michael Taylor (who also designed the costumes) is also competent, although not, strictly speaking, historically accurate either. But pretty to look at, nonetheless. Fans of Al Murray will enjoy this show. But it’s not suitable for children, despite its similarity to panto. And The Crown Jewels won’t teach you much about the complicated politics and larger than life characters who really lived during Charles II’s reign. But it’s an enjoyable evening in the West End, nonetheless.