Playing Burton – The King’s Arms

Many times, actors get labelled as icons, legends and titans of their craft. Richard Burton was someone who would be extolled as such yet tempered by opinions that his was a wasted talent, squandered in the depths of a bottle of gin and never truly realised on account of his untimely death at the age of 58.

Resurrecting the man via Mark Jenkin’s rich and lyrical script is a tall order for anyone, especially where they are required to hold their audience through a long monologue. And Burton was renowned for his love of the spoken word whether in the prose of Shakespeare, the poetry of Dylan Thomas or within the scripts of the Hollywood epics he was adored for, so delivery is critical.  

Off the bat, Sean Cernow neither looks, nor sounds, like Burton so it is best to put a pin in any expectations to that regard. To do otherwise would rob you of enjoying a tour-de-force performance that fully encapsulates the actor’s temperamental nature. 

The packed 90minute monologue visits key touch points of Burton’s life – his humble roots as Richard Jenkins in a Welsh coal-mining village, his influential teacher Philip Burton who helped push him towards breakout roles in theatre and eventually Hollywood, and his meeting of the woman, Elizabeth Taylor, whose relationship with him would define them both more than anything they committed to celluloid.

A simple set of a single table, laden with bottles of alcohol and a pack of cigarettes, and occasional lighting changes and sound affects are the only additions, leaving it to Cernow to command the studio stage.

This, he very much does, relishing the poetry of Jenkin’s script, flitting between grand Shakespearean orations through to confessional whispers, all laden with earthy authenticity, even if that famous timbre is absent.

It’s unmistakenly a passion project for Cernow, successfully capturing the contradictions that defined Burton, as he fights to remain the debonair and witty host whilst trying to ignore the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future echoing from the litany of bottles from which he regularly tops up already half-full glasses of wine and gin.

He regularly leans into the audience, directing particular speeches at a specific member of the audience, creating a delicious tension of unpredictability that was a hallmark of his subject. This is particularly emphasised in the second act, with alcoholism taking its toll, as Cernow sweats and sways towards an inevitable finale.

Such as solid performance means that it can be the tiny things that stand out – the anachronistic collection of alcohol and cigarettes (which Cernow only pretends to smoke) in modern packaging, the occasionally scrappy sound effect, the loss of diction now and again in the more intense speeches.

But his delivery nevertheless brims with Burton’s fire, bringing to life a man who both basked in fame and cringed at its excesses, and tried to never forget where he came from. Ultimately, it’s best not to see Playing Burton as an impersonation but more like an invocation – a raw, eloquent eulogy to a man forever torn between brilliance and self-destruction, who, even in death, refuses to be silenced.

Playing Burton runs until Wednesday 12^th November. For tickets and What’s On visit https://www.kingsarmssalford.com/

Reviewer: Lou Steggals

Reviewed: 9th November 2025

North West End UK Rating: