Delightful and devastating, controlled and convincing drama

Ambassadors Theatre

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Tanya Reynolds, Siena Kelly, Liv Hill in 1536. Photo: Helen Murray

Don’t be fooled by the posters showing women in smart Tudor dresses. SIX it ain’t. 1536 is the year Henry the 8th accused his wife Anne Boleyn of treason and killed her. Ava Pickett’s play imagines the effect this might have had on women at the lowest levels of society, and, by implication, how the behaviour of powerful men today might influence other men in their attitude to women. And what a well written, superbly acted drama, it is.

It looks at three, I suppose we’d call them, peasant women- their camaraderie, their mutual support, and their ultimate downfall at the hands of men, who are emboldened by the King’s actions. It starts out with some very funny scenes as Ava Pickett’s fast-moving, scintillating dialogue establishes the characters of the women, but it ends in overwhelming tragedy.

Anna played by Siena Kelly enjoys sex. She knows she looks attractive and makes sure she exploits what she sees as an asset. It’s her power over men. She has a sharp tongue and a ribbing sense of humour. The butt of her jokes is usually Jane, played by Liv Hill, Anna’s polar opposite: slow-witted, shy and a virgin. Tanya Reynolds plays the conciliatory Mariella, a worldly midwife saddened by thwarted ambitions.

It’s a joyous portrait of female friendship. The conversation between them is so easy and natural- they speak like modern Essex women (Ms Pickett is from Colchester), which adds to the sense that you could bump into them on a night out.

Then they are shaken by the news (two days old) that the King has imprisoned the Queen. They find it impossible to believe. Inevitably rumours abound but the word is she has had many lovers, including her brother. She may even have plotted to assassinate the monarch. Can it be true? It doesn’t matter. If the King says it is, it must be.

We meet two of the men in their lives. Richard, played by Oliver Johnstone, is one of Anna’s lovers, even while he is courting Jane (for her dowry). George Kemp is William, a married property owner who has a relationship with Mariella. Both appear to be mild mannered.

When things start to go wrong, the male hierarchy follows the King’s example. Anna is labelled a whore while Richard is seen as having been seduced. The other two are also treated badly and (what’s new?) not believed. It’s clear men call the shots and the play proceeds to become very dark indeed, as the bonds with men on which the women relied start to break. As in any oppressive society, the oppressed women not only take the blame for men’s wrongs but start to turn on each other.

It would be so good to be able to say how much society has changed. Shamefully, far too many of today’s powerful men set an example of verbal and physical abuse of women.

Tender and tragic

Liv Hill, Siena Kelly & Tanya Reynolds in 1536. Photo: Helen Murray

All this is acted out on a single set cleverly designed by Max Jones. Clumps of dry trodden down grass, a dead tree and scrubby bushes symbolise the oppressive country. It is meant to be excessively hot, and we feel the heat that is beating the women down at the same time as it stirs the men to cheer the execution of the King’s wife without ever questioning her guilt. Then as now people in power control the information, and gossip (for which read social media) whips up the fake news.

The lighting by Jack Knowles contributes to the atmosphere, and between scenes plunges us into impenetrable blackouts that parallel the darkness in which the local population is kept.

It’s a stunning achievement for a debut play. Credit to the Genesis Almeida scheme for commissioning it, and to the Almeida for this pacey production directed by Lyndsey Turner. West End transfers from small theatres sometimes don’t work but the Ambassadors is appropriately intimate. 1536 is tender and tragic, delightful and devastating, controlled and convincing.

1536 can be seen at The Ambassadors Theatre until 1 August 2026.

Paul was given a review ticket by the producer.

Read a roundup of other critics’ reviews of 1536 here

Click here to watch a video of this review on the YouTube cahnnel Theatre Reviews With Paul Seven

A long evening lit up by Ruth Wilson

Almeida Theatre

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Ruth Wilson & Michael Shannon in A Moon For The Misbegotten. Photo: Marc Brenner

I admit there were moments when I thought Eugene O’Neill’s A Moon For The Misbegotten could hurry I up a bit but I came to appreciate this is a play where every word- and the unspoken words- count, and I appreciated the way that director Rebecca Frecknall deliberately made space to let this time bomb of a play achieve its impact.

It’s a kind of sequel , or perhaps an epilogue, to A Long Day’s Journey Into Night. It features Jamie Tyrone, one of the sons from that play, now known as Jim, and refers to his late mother and father. He is landlord to Josie Hogan and her father Phil. He seems benign but Phil fears he will sell their farm, so hatches a plot by which Josie will seduce Jim and he will be forced to marry her. Which is ironic because they do actually desire one another.

At first Josie comes across as a confident, independent woman, able to handle herself and the men around her, including her cynical, mean father. Playing the part is Ruth Wilson, at first swaggering and fearless, striding confidently and literally wielding a big stick. But from the beginning we sense a brittleness behind the bravado. We also see she is selfless, and, as the play progresses, this aspect of her character manifests itself in her approach to Jim and Phil. The gradual cracking of the shell she has built around herself is shown by Ms Wilson in multiple small ways. She becomes increasingly tender, as she admits the truth about herself and sees the reality of others It could be the acting performance of the year.

Michael Shannon’s Jim, an alcoholic, is clearly a broken man but a gentle one who seems to be drowning his sorrows not only in booze but in casual encounters with women. His falsetto laugh and sad face hint there is more to him than a drunken womaniser, and his deliberate movements are not only those of a bourbon-soaked body but also of a man who hates his own being. As he moves from destructive self hate to a kind of temporary redemption, a calm takes over his body.

Ruth Wilson & David Threlfall in A Moon For The Misbegotten. Photo: Marc Brenner

What emerges over the length of the play is a gradual peeling off of the images Josie and Jim project to cover their insecurity and the discovery of the reasons they feel vulnerable, which are very much tied up with their parents- hence the ‘misbegotten’ of the title.

There are wrong assumptions and misunderstandings, especially over what they actually desire, and many moments in which there are two steps forward and one step backward, before a finale when their true feelings are laid bare. I called it a bomb earlier but I don’t want to imply the end is explosive- it’s softer and more moving than that, but there are some dramatic incidents on the way.

Rebecca Frecknall’s slow unwinding of the play would not be so mesmerising without actors of the calibre of Ruth Wilson and Michael Shannon, not to mention the inimitable David Threlfall, who totally convinces as a wily old farmer whose twinkling eyes betray his love for his daughter.

Tom Scutt’s circular set, made of battered wood conveys the poverty of the farm business. Jack Knowles’ lighting design centres on a moving spot high up at the back of the stage which moves its beam across the scene and the characters. It powerfully represents a moon which witnesses and encourages their revelations.

Maybe O’Neill could have written a shorter play, but I wouldn’t want to mess in any way with this perfect production.

A Moon For The Misbegotten can be seen at the Almeida Theatre until 16 August 2025. Buy tickets direct from the theatre.

Paul paid for his ticket.

Paul’s recent video reviews on YouTube