Review – Backstairs Billy, Duke of York’s Theatre, London, 27th December 2023

Every year for the last ten years – apart from in 2020, *obvs* – we’ve taken a trip to the capital for a few nights between Christmas and New Year to take in some shows and hit the London sales. And our first target of the 2023 season was Marcelo Dos Santos’ Backstairs Billy, a refreshingly amusing couple of hours spent in the company of the Queen Mother, her faithful servant and a couple of racing corgis. Dos Santos’ Feeling Afraid as if Something Terrible is Going to Happen was one of the big hits of 2022’s Edinburgh Fringe so I was keen to see some more of his work.

William Tallon – or Billy to his friends – was recruited into the Royal Household at the age of fifteen, and twenty-seven years later became Page of the Backstairs in Clarence House, a position he held until the Queen Mother’s death in 2002. The play is primarily set in 1979, and we see Billy taking complete charge of the minutiae of the Queen Mother’s daily living – her entertaining guests, her planning her day, her deciding what to eat, and so on. We also see how he gets on with the Queen Mother’s secretary (not very well) and other members of staff over whom he holds great sway. It’s a way of life that works well for both page and royal, but when a gentleman caller by the name of Ian becomes something of a tricky overnight guest, relations with the QM also get a little strained.

It’s an enjoyable play with nicely drawn characters – even the minor ones – that makes you both laugh and – not quite cry, but you do feel sadness coming through from time to time. It escalates to some moments of unexpected and delightful farce, such as when an artwork, which is unmistakably a dildo, keeps cropping up in unwanted and royal hands. Ian masquerading as the Prince of Lesotho provides a very funny scene of mistaken identity which is played beautifully. And there’s also a very poignant scene with the ageing Lady Adeline who can’t understand where Bertie has gone, much to everyone’s nicely handled awkwardness.

But this isn’t all just drawing-room comedy; there is a dark side to the play, which I didn’t feel was either fully believable or comfortable to watch. The Queen Mother has her own way of taking Billy down a peg or two and showing him who’s boss. When his gay escapades start to intrude on the integrity and indeed security of the Royal Household, and she appears publicly to disapprove of his wanton sexual behaviour, she punishes him with a pretty revolting task designed purely to humiliate him. However, we’ve already seen her when they were both younger, back in 1952, when Billy first came into her service, encouraging him to wear a Royal tiara and necklace and to explore in his gayness. In modern parlance, she groomed him; and there’s a significant disconnect between her treatment of Billy then and in 1979. If this is meant to show that her own attitudes to homosexuality have changed over the years, it doesn’t work; it comes across as simply inconsistent.

You can absolutely believe that we are in the Garden Room at Clarence House with Christopher Oram’s stunning set – immaculately tasteful and regal, and with a huge amount of consideration going into the positions of the floral bouquets. Tom Rand’s costumes for the Queen Mum are elegant, practical and are precisely how you would expect her to have dressed at home. In fact, all aspects of the production are superbly done.

Penelope Wilton leads the cast as the Queen Mother and it’s a role in which she revels. You get the feeling that the QM is so used to public life that she never really has a private moment in which to be herself; it’s a delicate, measured, considered portrayal, with no words ever out of place or wrongly delivered, even when she’s talking to herself. And of course Dame Penelope has terrific timing that beautifully exploits all the comic possibilities of the script. She is matched by Luke Evans as Billy, an imposing, authoritative stage presence who flips perfectly from being the respectful servant to the intimidating boss with ease, and always with a touch of flamboyance.

Iwan Davies is excellent as new household recruit Gwydion, all nervous hunched shoulders and painfully out of his depth, Ian Drysdale is also superb as the no-nonsense secretary Mr Kerr, always on hand to reprimand Billy for any misjudgements, and there are great supporting performances from all the cast, especially Eloka Ivo as the unpredictable Ian and Ilan Galkoff as the wet-behind-the-ears but keen young Billy.

A crowd-pleaser of a show that looks absolutely perfect in all respects and tickles our memories and any preconceptions we may have had of the Queen Mother, more than twenty years after her death. Terrific performances, and Mr Dos Santos is rapidly becoming a playwright to seek out.

 

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Home I’m Darling, Duke of York’s Theatre, 2nd March 2019

Fashionistas, help me; I can’t remember, is Retro in or out this year? Whatever, it’s definitely in chez Judy and Johnny, where she spends her day dressed in her best 1950s garb, preparing meals for her beloved on a 1950s stove, using ingredients distilled into 1950s packaging, cleaning the floor with her 1950s carpet sweeper, and preparing 1950s cocktails for Johnny when he comes home from work.

But this is not the 1950s. This is today; and in her search to find her true self, Judy has espoused her favourite decade 100%. No interior design out of place, from the TV to the telephone, the sofa to the fridge, everything is genuine 1950s. Her only day-to-day link with the modern world in her home is her laptop, because she relies on eBay and Amazon to furnish her with her outdated, second-hand necessities. And, despite her spirited defence of her way of life, it’s all very sad.

Anna Fleischle has gone to town in creating her delightful 1950s set. When we see it, as we enter the auditorium, with its dolls’ house frontage, it suggests both a perfect idyll, but also a plaything, a façade. However, when the front of the house flies up and Judy comes along and physically pushes the front door into place to reveal a proper, lived-in home, we discover this is genuinely her real life. Visually, it’s both amusing and stunning, with excellent attention to detail, from the pineapple ice-bucket to the starburst mirror. The superb 50s styling of Judy’s clothes make for an obvious contrast with the modern-day outfits worn by everyone else who comes to her house. There’s a moment in the second act when the set comes to life and switches from “half-renovated” to “fully-DIY’d” and receives a round of applause all for itself.

And I think that’s the key to the whole play. On the face of it, it’s quirky, funny, outrageous even. But when you get under the surface, there’s not actually a lot going on. I can sum up the plot quite simply: Woman takes voluntary redundancy in order to live out 1950s fantasy existence; runs out of money, goes back to work. That’s it. The rest of the play is padded out, watching Judy interact with the outside world in the form of her friend Fran, her mother Sylvia and Johnny’s boss Alex. None of them really “get it” – Fran is supportive of her lifestyle, but bemused; Sylvia thinks she’s an idiot; and Alex suspects that whatever it is that Judy’s got, Johnny might catch it. Johnny blames the fact that he was passed up for promotion on Judy’s 50s obsession which made Alex feel uneasy – and he’s probably right.

In fact, it may well be that Judy’s mental health is in question here, revealing some need to turn her back on reality and escape into her own little cocoon. However, if that is the case, then it appears to be one of the most easily treated mental illnesses ever recorded; simply by happily skipping off to work at the end of the play, it implies she’s cured. I think the play is also trying to send a message about feminism – but I can’t quite work out what that message is. All the way through, it’s Judy who’s in the driver’s seat. She decides to leave work, she decides to devote herself full-time to running her fantasy household, she decides to conceal their debt from Johnny, she decides to go back to work. As a couple, she’s takes the assertive role, and he’s the passive one. But despite that, she’s not happy, and she doesn’t achieve what she wants. Don’t push too hard, your dreams are china in your hand? Not sure.

You might be getting the message, gentle reader, that I didn’t care for this play very much. Sadly, that’s true. Despite its initial impact – that opening scene ends with a delightful coup de theatre – I began to get a little bored, which for me is the cardinal sin for a play. None of the characters is particularly likeable, except Judy’s tell-it-like-it-is mother Sylvia, who tries desperately to appeal to her daughter to see sense and take control of reality. As she says, unless you were a straight white male, the 50s were shit. Why celebrate that time of rationing and dreariness now? It’s not unlike the current fad for pro-Brexiteers to hanker after the good old days of the Second World War; we survived it then, we can survive it now. But, as Sylvia tries to make Judy see, it’s clearly a smokescreen for something else. Doesn’t she want to achieve more than mere survival?

Got political there, soz. Nearly everyone else in the play – Johnny, Fran, Alex – is portrayed with only modest, vanilla characterisation so we don’t really know much about them; and Marcus is clearly a sex pest but only has a minor involvement in the story. As for Laura Wade’s writing, it’s quite funny in parts, but probably not funny enough to think of it as a proper comedy. Any serious attempt to draw out a feminist – or indeed anti-feminist – argument in the play gets bogged down and befuddled. In the end, this is simply a story of someone making a decision to do something; then realising they were wrong and changing their mind; then moving on. Happens all the time, doesn’t it? I sense there’s a good play lurking under the surface here, but Home I’m Darling isn’t it.

Katherine Parkinson is one of our most intelligent and insightful stage performers and she makes the best of the role of Judy, revealing the character’s inner frustrations and ambitious motives, but even she can’t make it soar. Susan Brown is excellent as Sylvia, dishing out her caustic bonmots and the stage certainly brightens up when she comes on. Sara Gregory gives a nicely perplexed performance as Johnny’s boss Alex, out of her depth in weirdo-land.

But I’m afraid I was distinctly unimpressed with the whole thing. Happy to accept that I’m out of kilter on this one as it received rapturous applause from the audience and the critics have rated it highly. After its short stay at the Duke of York’s, it’s having a mini-tour to Bath and the Lowry in Salford, before returning to its birthplace from last summer, Theatr Clwyd.

P. S. Perhaps my reaction was in part to the uncomfortable nature of the Duke of York’s Theatre. Yes, it looks beautiful, but the bars and public areas are cramped and the toilets few-and-far-between. Go to the loo before you arrive!