A CORONATION YEAR ROMP ANYWAY
A neighbour in the stalls confided that she sees a lot of West End theatre but avoids “the more highbrow sort”. She was in the right place, absolutely. So after you’ve spent West End money on this show, don’t come crying to me because you expected a nuanced history play, a window into the feelings and influences of human beings in past centuries. You should have gone to Semmelweis, or the RSC, or Hamilton, for that.
On the other hand, if you hunger for a top Al Murray gig, with the artist-formerly-known-as-the-pub-landlord camping it up with ridiculous vowels while wrapped in many metres of extreme brocade and a curly poodle-wig down to his nipples , and harassing the front rows with “do not come to court again dressed as a swineherd!” , then this is your bag. No risk of it demanding heavy brow work.
Likewise, if Carrie Hope Fletcher has been missing from your life since Bad Cinderella closed, be assured that she is an excellently wench-ish Lady of the Bedchamber with some big numbers to sing, doubling as the frustrated daughter of the Crown Jewels’ steward. Oh, and Mel Giedroyc is the wife of the said steward (who is Al Murray again). She is entertainingly obsessed with setting up Tower of London merchandise made of dough, and doubles as a random French noblewoman. No idea why, but she does light up the stage. And at one point climb off it.
The story is based on real events of the 1660’s, when after the Restoration of the monarchy in the dandyish, theatreloving person of Charles II, a maverick Irish rebel called Colonel Blood stole the Crown Jewels, was caught, and ended up sufficiently forgiven to be a spy on other potential Irish rebels . (Royal fears of an enemy within were not unreasonable: Cromwell’s head was still on a pike, and as Robert Harris’ new novel ACT OF OBLIVION tells us, regicides were still plotting in the colonies). If I am making it sound thrilling, either with the story or in well deserved praise for the comedians trapped in it, it is only for the sake of my non-brow neighbour and friends. In all honesty, even as a keen fan of The Windsors onstage I found much of it – mostly the chat between the conspirators – woefully flat. The script is actually a criminal waste of Aidan McArdle as Colonel Blood and Neil Morrissey as Perrot. Though Morrissey has a doubling cameo as a brocaded tourist, which he does with elegance.
It’s billed as a heist comedy, but Simon Nye’s play is not tensely enough constructed enough for that; nor is it selfconsciously arch enough for Blackadder fans. It’s as broad and delighted with low jokes as Horrible Histories, though without as much education and more sexual references. . But be assured, Al Murray has still got it. I am not on a newspaper with rules now, so I offer two entirely separate mouseratings below…
Box office. Crownjewelsplay.com. To 16 sept
Rating As a play.
But as a comedy gig it works
theatreCat 