The King’s Speech – The Watermill Theatre – review

Generous measures of tension and empathy


★★★★

Arthur Hughes and Peter Sandys-Clarke in The King’s Speech. Photo: Alex Brenner

One of the best things about where I live is that my closest producing theatre is the Watermill in Newbury, which was named The Stage’s Theatre Of The Year. The venue is quite a miracle really because it has a tiny stage and it no longer receives an Arts Council grant, yet it consistently knocks out excellent shows and occasionally an absolute banger- like The King’s Speech.

One of the challenges of mounting a play like The King’s Speech is that you, as an audience, know what’s going to happen. If you’re not familiar with British history pre-World War Two, then you’ve probably seen the film. This means the drama is not in what’s going to happen, but how it happens.

The King’s Speech was originally written as a play, even though it was first produced as a film, and you can easily imagine, when you watch the screen version, why it succeeds so well on stage: most of the action takes place in small rooms. By the time we get to Westminster Abbey, we’re so absorbed, we don’t even think about the missing grandeur. Well, I didn’t anyway.

The triumph of David Seidler’s script (he also wrote the Oscar-winning screenplay) is in the portrayal of two men from very different backgrounds- one a member of the highest family in the land, the other a commoner, and a colonial commoner at that- who form a bond. Prince Albert, as the future King Edward VIII’s brother, is being forced onto centre stage, to use a theatrical metaphor, but he is terrified of public speaking because he has a stammer. Lionel Logue is an Australian who has made a career as an outlier in the profession of speech therapy but has ambitions to be an actor.

At first the Prince is stiff and tetchy, not to mention skeptical of the process. He is played by Peter Sandys-Clarke who is every bit as good as his predecessors in the role- Colin Firth in the movie and Charles Edwards on stage. We feel his frustration, panic and the gradual thawing of his frigid persona. He communicates this so well, that you are at times on the edge of your seat wondering if he will get out a particular word, at others almost tearful when, even momentarily, he manages to overcome his affliction.

The relationship between the two blossoms partly because of the Prince’s desperation to be cured but as much because of Lionel’s lese-majesty. He treats the future King as an ordinary person, calls him ‘Bertie’ and thus builds friendship and trust. Arthur Hughes, with a believable Australian accent, is an extraordinarily good actor. He brings to the role an ability to look both indifferent to being rejected and caring about his client simultaneously, using a bend of the head, an intense look and a cheeky smile.

Another reason that they bond is that both are flawed. They are sensitive men who were bullied by their fathers and consider themselves failures. There is a particularly moving scene when Lionel cries in the arms of his wife. So, the success of the treatment would represent redemption for both of them.

A portrait of the monarchy at a turning point

Arthur Hughes, Aamira Challenger and Peter Sandys-Clarke in The King’s Speech. Photo: Alex Brenner

Director Emma Butler uses the stage well, with characters entering from the back of the auditorium as if from the world outside, the would-be puppetmaster leaders appearing high up at the back of the stage, and the Prince moving right to the front when he speaks to the people, so you can see the rabbit-in-the-headlights look in his eyes.

The flaw in this play is in the use of the other characters. With the exception of the wives, they are there primarily to provide historical context. We need to know that King Edward VIII wanted to marry a divorced woman and this threatened a constitutional crisis- and if we were in any doubt about whether this was fair, we are also told he was a Nazi sympathiser. And we need to be informed that there was a  lack of confidence among the elite about Prince Albert becoming King George VI just before the war, because he would need to be able to speak to the nation, in order to reassure them in our darkest hour.

The supporting cast provide us with fine cariacatures but inevitably there is no depth to them, and no matter how it’s dressed up, it feels like we’re being given a potted history lesson.  Jim Kitson is Churchill, Stephen Rahman-Hughes plays Edward VIII and prime minister Baldwin, and Christopher Naylor is an excellent snobbish and waspish Archbishop of Canterbury. That reminds me that are a great many funny lines in this play, including the one where Churchill says to the Archbishop: ‘You may have been elected by God, but he only has one vote.’

The wives are important for the support they give but also because they are the people their spouses can speak to about their intimate feelings. Aamira Challenger is an amusing Elizabeth, and Rosa Hesmondhalgh brings out the frustration and compassion felt by Lionel’s wife Myrtle.

In this play, we find the monarchy at a turning point. The rise of radio, as well as a less subservient press, make it vital that the future King speaks confidently.  He will no longer be a remote figure. Instead, he will be expected to talk directly to his people in their own homes, and will be seen by them as a human being.  So, the sound, designed by Robin Colyer, plays an important part in the production, from the gramophone Lionel uses to help Bertie, to the microphone that looms in front of him, to the thumping of his heart over the speakers.

Breta Gerecke is the latest designer challenged with fitting a quart of set into the pint pot of the Watermill stage, and she does a good job. The floor is kept clear of all but essential furniture but at the back are three rising dominant structures which start as staircases and break up into planks of wood, symbolising the perilously disconnected structure of Prince Albert’s brain.

It’s an absorbing and uplifting production in which the script, the two principal actors and the intimate space of the Watermill combine to provide generous measures of tension and empathy. If you live anywhere near Newbury, you should go see it.

The King’s Speech can be seen at The Watermill Theatre until 2 November 2024

Paul was given a review ticket by the theatre.

Click here to watch this review on the YouTube channel Theatre Reviews With Paul Seven

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