Things should have gone so differently. A fantastic ‘stranger than fiction’ piece of British history; a vibrant, clever set; a stellar cast featuring some the cream of stage and screen, paired with a renowned TV comedy writer. This should have been a barnstormer of a show.
And yet, tonight’s re-telling of an infamous 17th century heist to steal the Crown Jewels, by Colonel Thomas Blood and his accomplices, falls flatter than the St Edward’s Crown that Blood mangles with his mallet, so as to fit it into his loot bag.
So, what has gone wrong? Blood’s story may not be as well known as that other treasonous tale, the Gunpowder Plot, but it is a fascinating one of how the royal regalia was nearly pilfered, it’s only protection a lone elderly custodian, Talbot Edwards, and a less-than-reliable lock.
History is wooly about how the theft was ultimately foiled – in this version, it’s the timely return of the custodian’s son, Wythe, from Flanders that prevents the gang’s escape, leading to a face-off with Charles II himself to argue for mercy.
It feels somewhat inexcusable that such ripe pickings has yielded less than the failed robbery itself. Where’s the panache of Horrible Histories when you need it?
Unfortunately, there is a glaringly obvious source for why the show is such a damp squib and that is in Simon Nye’s weak and baffling script that trades a coherent narrative for knob jokes and innuendo.
Occasionally a genuinely brilliant quip will appear only to get buried by an avalanche of tired clichés. And there are glimpses of real theatrical wizardry (the gang’s escape from the tower depicted by puppets is a moment of genius).
But Nye’s background of both sitcom and panto scripting has been used to ill effect, attempting to squish the best elements of both formats into one and largely delivering neither. Any sense of a story has gone completely off the rails by the second act, which dissolves into a series of disjointed sketches.
The cast is wasted on this show. Carrie Hope Fletcher dualling as the custodian’s feisty yet unappreciated daughter Elizabeth, and an unnamed mistress of the King, is the typical panto principal girl, in good voice and energy, albeit reduced to singing songs that feel like contractual obligations rather than adding to the story.
Similarly, Aidan Mcardle as Blood, joined by The Inbetweeners’ Joe Thomas and Men Behaving Badly’s Neil Morrisey (a show written by Nye) make a good fist of what little they are given to work with, squeezing what they can out of the visual gags.
Adonis Siddique appears as Wythe but it is his dual role as a snivelling King’s footman that draws some of the evening’s first genuine laughs, as he attempts to stay in favour with the temperamental monarch and these skits remain a fun diversion throughout the show.
The heavy lifting is done by Al Murray (King Charles/Talbot) and Mel Giedroyc (Talbot’s wife/a random French noblewoman) who draw on every ounce of their comedic muscles to bring some life to the show.
20 minutes of the first half is just Murray hilariously ad-libbing with the audience over a speech the king wishes to give for his Jubilee, and he brings the audience along in his great delight at playing the lecherous ruler. Giedroyc meanwhile uses a legacy of live TV and presiding over baking disasters to play off Murray with great effect as they send the script off-piste.
Indeed, by the end of proceedings, it feels like – with the exception of Fletcher who stoically presses on – the rest of the cast have given up and are getting their own enjoyment from seeing who can make the others collapse into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of it all.
It’s a crying shame. After a West-End run, this should have found its feet by now. Instead, style over substance and puerile, teenage humour makes for a frustrating experience where what should have been a jewel of a show turns out to be a right royal let-down.
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Reviewer: Lou Steggals
Reviewed: 20th September 2023
North West End UK Rating:
Rating: 2 out of 5.
