The big draw of this
revival of Crown Matrimonial, Royce
Ryton's play about the abdication crisis, is the
presence of the great Patricia Routledge. There is no
actress to beat her when it comes to playing formidable
old boots, and the role of Queen Mary, the redoubtable
relict of King George V, promised to find her in
magnificent form.
Routledge lives up to
all expectations in a performance that proves moving as
well as regally commanding, but the real surprise is the
play itself. Ryton's drama, first staged in the West End
in 1972, was regarded as pretty safe, conventional fare
even then, and 36 years on I expected it to seem like a
cobweb-encrusted history lesson.
In fact, David
Grindley's beautifully acted revival comes across as
perhaps the most subversive drama now playing in
Britain. For, as we watch King Edward VIII renouncing
the monarchy in order to marry Wallis Simpson, it is
impossible not to be reminded of more recent royal
crises. Time and events have given Ryton's play an edge
it didn't possess first time around.
Edward had to choose
between the crown and Mrs Simpson, because as head of
the Church of England and Defender of the Faith he
couldn't be married to a divorced woman.
Yet the present Prince
of Wales has not only divorced his own wife, but married
the divorced woman with whom he had long been conducting
an adulterous affair. Few are now suggesting that this
makes him unfit to be king. The ghost of the former
Edward VIII would doubtless approve.
Watching Ryton's play,
however, Edward's mother, Queen Mary, offers highly
persuasive arguments about the responsibilities of
royalty, and the need to sacrifice love for duty, while
Edward seems unattractively self-centred.
I left the theatre
convinced that when the present Queen dies - and one
hopes she reigns for many years to come - Charles should
resign the throne in favour of his elder son. It
suddenly seemed the only honourable course.
In our debased age, it
is bracing to watch a play that values duty more highly
than love and self-gratification. And it speaks highly
of the success of Grindley's production, which I caught
in Guildford, that such unfashionable arguments seem so
compelling.
Routledge marvellously
captures both the formidable authority of Queen Mary -
at moments of disapproval her face seems to set like
concrete - but also conveys the weight of emotion the
old woman finds so painfully hard to express.
The scene in which she
stiffens the resolve of her second son, the future
George VI, who in Richard Hansell's fine performance
tearfully and stammeringly confides that he would sooner
face a firing squad than become king, is deeply
affecting.
Rufus Wright memorably
captures the superficial charm and deeper self-regard of
Edward VIII, and there is fine support right through the
ranks.
This is an
unexpectedly gripping and thought-provoking play, shot
through with flashes of dry humour. Its championship of
decorum, duty and a stiff upper lip seems astonishingly
attractive in comparison with today's sloppy
emotionalism.
Another formidable
woman is being celebrated at the Shaw Theatre in
Golda's Balcony, William Gibson's one-woman
play about the former prime minister of Israel, Golda
Meir.
Tovah Feldshuh gives a
powerful performance as the determined leader, and her
agony about the possibility of nuclear Armageddon during
the Yom Kippur war of 1973 is powerfully conveyed.
In the final analysis
however, and in marked contrast to Crown Matrimonial,
this really does seem more like a history lesson than a
living play.
Charles
Spencer. Telegraph
...................
Divorces, adultery and the violent death
of a princess. Young royals falling out
of West End nightclubs; tearful,
soul-baring interviews. Compared with
all that, David Grindley's revival of
Royce Ryton's slow-moving play about the
Abdication crisis, first produced in
1972, feels neither exciting nor
especially relevant. It's no revelation
that the contrast between the traditions
of stiff upper lip and devotion to duty
depicted in the drama present a marked
contrast to today's attitudes. Ryton is
firmly on the side of the appalled Queen
Mary, played here with stately aplomb by
Patricia Routledge, rather than that of
her smitten and rebellious son. But
there is little exploration of the
hypocrisy that underlies inflexible
morality, while emotional repression,
responsible for so much misery among
families in every social stratum, is
presented as a virtue.
It's
1936, and there's consternation in Queen
Mary's private sitting room at
Marlborough House. The American press is
agog about the romance between King
Edward VIII and the married divorc?
they are already referring to as ?Queen
Wally?. Rufus Wright's Edward, fresh
from a European trip with Mrs Simpson,
is suntanned, cheerful and full of
objectionable new Americanised habits,
including a taste for cocktails and
enhancements to his vocabulary that his
mother regards as vulgar.
Naively, he imagines that marriage to
Wallis is perfectly feasible; his mother
swiftly sets him straight. The British
people, she says, ?are fundamentally
moral; they will disapprove?. Besides
which, as King, and head of the Church,
it is constitutionally impossible for
him to marry a twice-divorced woman. The
rest, as they say, is history, and very
dry it seems, despite sterling work from
the cast. Routledge is impressive as the
Queen, all arid wit and cut-glass
vowels. There's a moment, when Richard
Hansell as the terrified, stammering
Bertie, forced by Edward's abdication to
reign as George VI, breaks down and,
allowing herself a brief instance of
tiny tenderness, Routledge touches his
shoulder. Within minutes, though, she's
back to proclaiming: ?We must all behave
as if nothing had happened.? For just a
second, we have glimpsed the human cost
of her rigid code of honour.
Otherwise, the writing is brittle and
overdeliberate. Grindley's production is
stagey, but it's difficult to see how it
could be otherwise with such dated
material. Routledge's legions of fans
will doubtless relish a performance that
is precise, perfectly controlled and
rich in intelligence and nuance. But
this dusty old museum piece has little
else to offer.
Sam Marlowe. Times online.
...................
Royce Ryton's play about the Abdication
crisis of 1936 has some surprising modern resonances and
is anything but a period piece
A crisis in the monarchy as a royal
prince wants to marry the divorcee with whom he?s been
carrying on an adulterous affair. Can the royal family
survive? No, not events of the past decade or so, but
those leading up to the Abdication in 1936, explored in
Royce Ryton's 1972 play Crown Matrimonial.
It explores the impact those events had on the royal
household as a family and how it tore them apart,
forcing many to make the choice between loyalty to their
loved ones and loyalty to the throne. Set in Queen
Mary's private sitting room on the first floor of
Marlborough House, the agonies of the decision are
played out.
As Queen Mary, Patricia Routledge is regal and frosty,
but we can clearly see the toll taken on her by the
crisis. Although not physically like the late queen,
Miss Routledge makes such a reserved and stoic character
sympathetic, even if we may not agree with her choices
(informed as we are by modern morals). Against her,
Rufus Wright makes for a spirited Edward VIII, trying to
do the right thing but thwarted at all turns.
They are given excellent support by
Richard Hansell as the Duke of York
- the scene where he becomes king is
particularly affecting, as he
struggles with his stammer ? and
Emma Hardy as his wife Elizabeth,
not at all the sweet creature we
came to know in later years as The
Queen Mother.
I
was pleased to
discover that
the play was so
even-handed, not
painting anyone
as being
absolutely in
the wrong ? all
the more so as
it was written
while The Queen
Mother was still
alive. Even
Wallis Simpson
comes out well,
spoken warmly of
by many of the
protagonists and
not portrayed as
the rapacious
adventuress she
was all too
often painted
as.
It's surprising
that a play
written in the
1970s about the
events of 1936
can be so
contemporary,
but perhaps it
is that history
allows us to see
current events
in a new way.
Certainly the
question of
whether it?s
acceptable for
the king (or
future king) to
marry a divorced
woman still has
resonance, as
does what the
wife of a king
should and must
be called. An
added frisson
the author could
not have
anticipated was
the discussion
of what
constitutes an
acceptable
partnership to
be married by
the Church. The
answers then, as
now, were not so
clear cut.
Jane
Watkins. Country Life.
...................
Try as she may, Patricia Routledge?s character
Hyacinth Bouquet, never does become regal. But when playing the Queen?s
grandmother, Queen Mary, in Royce Ryton?s play, ?Crown Matrimonial?,
Routledge succeeds brilliantly
The scandal of the abdication of King Edward VIII in 1936 almost brought the
monarchy to an end and the events leading up to it were listened to eagerly
in wireless sets around the land.
This play is made up of a series of confrontations between King Edward VIII
(Rufus Wright), known as David to his family, and his mother, Queen Mary.
It is possible that Mrs Simpson lured David into her arms because of the
lack of affection shown by his mother. Patricia Routledge conveys this
aloofness well. She doesn?t offer a glimmer of understanding to her
love-stricken son and her emphasis is always on ?duty?.
The character of the soon-to become George VI is put over well by Richard
Hansell whose stammering becomes even worse as he faces the possibility of
taking his brother?s place. The scene where he confesses to his mother that
he?d rather face a firing squad than become King and breaks down in sobs, is
one of the most moving.
His mother attempts to stiffen his resolve, again, without affection,
although she does, briefly, touch his shoulder. One wonders whether this
attitude was the cause of her second son?s stammer.
In a passionate performance by Emma Handy, Elizabeth, Duchess of York,
defends her husband?s position and tells David exactly what she thinks of
him. Queen Mary was, herself, a product of the British establishment, an
establishment that could not and would not tolerate the sovereign?s marriage
to a twice-divorced American.
I did think that Patricia Routledge?s rounded figure was a big contrast to
the real Queen Mary?s straight backed and straight laced stance but it was
character that mattered rather than looks.
In some ways, this play is a documentary chronicling historic events as they
happen. Royce Ryton does not exaggerate the situation but doesn?t under play
it either. Yet the zing was missing which resulted in the slow pace and
samey upper class accents being a little dull. I think the zing was Wallis
Simpson.
Had the colourful socialite American made an appearance in just one scene
with her beloved, she would have contrasted well with the Royals and things
might have livened up. The words that ring out through history were made in
the abdication speech. The audience hear once again the original broadcast
in which Edward VIII said: ?I have found it impossible to discharge my
duties as King without the support of the woman I love.?
In 1945 he briefly returns home to a less than rapturous reception. The icy
Queen Mary?s only sign of melting is when, referring to his wife, she says
?Send her my kind wishes.?
Julia
Taylor. Entertainment Manchester
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