Handbagged

Although just 4 years after its first outing in London the timing of this production is still remarkably topical. Against a backdrop of a highly politicised UK with a female Prime Minister losing her cabinet support and a hollowed out Queen’s Speech still ringing in our ears a reprise of the Thatcher years reminds us all that “Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.” Or perhaps in a post-Brexit world and taking extreme liberties with the translation  - politicians change but the out-of-tune policies don’t. 

The device of using two Margaret Thatchers and two Queen Elizabeths allowed for both direct dialogue between the two younger protagonists as well as commentary, reflection and an insight into private thoughts from the older pair. This was clever and relied on great pick up on cues, subtle facial reactions and only occasional movement around the stage to maintain our interest. Let’s be honest, this historical review was fascinating and included a war (Falklands), terrorism (Brighton bombing), civil unrest (miners’ strike), African diplomacy and much more besides. Yet, to inject more direct humour while letting Mrs T and the Queen maintain their dignity, not to mention dramatic credibility, we were treated to cameo appearances from Rupert Murdoch, Kenneth Kaunda, Gerry Adams, even Ronald Reagan and his wife in drag – all gamely played by Kevin Stemp and Mark Preston. This was impressive stuff, particularly the accurate accents and mannerisms captured by Kevin.

The set was static and consisted of a faded version of the Union Jack on one wall and a faded “Tory Torch” on the other. Whether these were meant to symbolise the status of a once proud nation in the autumn of its years or simply to offer some meaningful relief to an otherwise blank canvas I don’t know. The result worked and focused the attention on the action, or more specifically the dialogue, since apart from occasional synchronised hand bag movements the use of the stage was necessarily limited. The key to this play was the willingness to suspend belief and accept that these conversations, notes of which were never kept, could have happened. The playwright hadn’t succumbed to the twin temptations of demonizing Thatcher nor over-aristocratizing the Queen and the director allowed her actors to play it straight. Andrea Dalton and Debbie Miles both did a splendid job of capturing Mrs T, with Andrea perhaps having the more challenging task of conveying contemporary responses to actions which are now long gone, if not forgotten. Jane Smith was quite a sparky older Elizabeth, giving free rein to her thoughts, rather like an elderly relative who is not PC. Laura Hill was more circumspect but displayed a diplomatic caution that was never inflammatory but somehow lit the fire.

I really enjoyed the combination of historical review, as seen through the prism of these imaginary conversations, and the injections of humour from some notable footnotes in modern British history. Many of Mark Preston’s explanatory interjections were aimed at young people who were not around during the Thatcher years. It was a shame that there seemed very few young people in the audience. They would have had much food for thought. Congratulations on a thoroughly good production.

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