A frantic farce that charts the last days of the UK’s shortest reigning Prime Minister, this show hints at political tyranny but is overpowered by cheap laughs.Rating
Liz is waiting for us in her office. Sat at a traditional wooden desk, overlooked by a large portrait of Margaret Thatcher and an even larger Union flag, she is mostly pensive with short bursts of frantic energy before jumping up to signal the start of the piece. Emma Wilkinson Wright is assured in this role and moves easily between personas: from karaoke enthusiast, to ambitious politician, to small, defiant child. Each time, her mannerisms and voice adapt to suit the mood, and her accent mostly stays true. What is not assured is the purpose behind this production. Is it simply a lengthy impression of Liz Truss, the shortest-serving Prime Minister the UK has ever had? Or an era-specific comedy underpinned by plenty of ‘hilarious’ references to Liz’s relationship with the then cigar-smoking health secretary Thérèse Coffey? Or a more serious look at the fragility of politics and its manipulation by global superpowers and ‘the men in suits’? All of these genres make an appearance but are too fleeting to provide cohesive direction, and I quickly lost a sense of what was happening.
The first half seems rushed and frantic: sound bites of information are flung to the audience with little chance to understand their purpose before we move on. The disjointed action feels like an endless series of comedy sketches which lose definition. What is created, however, is a reminder of Liz’s impulsivity and how convinced she is of her own intellectual superiority. There are many references to her education credentials: PPE at Oxford, no less. It is clear, in her own mind at least, that the men in suits are too cautious and too cowardly to back her, but obviously she is right.
The second half, however, returns with serious purpose. The rationale behind Liz’s mini budget was firmly, in her mind, to promote growth, because without growth, everyone fails to prosper, and moment by moment, life becomes harder. In what is the standout moment of the production, she lowers her voice to quietly face the audience with purpose: to give a prediction of what will happen to all of us without growth. Much of this is already happening as wages cover less and less, and reasonable standards of living are harder to achieve. Dramatically, a defining moment, the audience lean in to hear her chilling prophesies and begin to consider the possibility that she might have been right. Sadly this gravitas is short lived as frivolity returns and Liz considers a political future in the US with her idol Trump, and even partnering up with Farage: a man of the people.
Oxia (the production team), we are told in the accompanying programme, believe that “theatre is a brilliant vehicle for ripping open the most uncomfortable edges of human experience”. And they might have achieved that if they had stayed true to the drama inherent in the actual power behind British Politics and explained more about the fragility of financial instruments that hold up the economy. Sadly, a reliance on quick-fix easy laughs removes any possibility of that.
Written by: Greg Wilkinson
Director: Anthony Shrubsall
Production Team: Oxia
The Last Days of Liz Truss plays at The Other Palace until Sunday 15 March
