Review: SCANDALTOWN, Lyric Hammersmith

And then there were three. The last Mike Bartlett-penned show has opened in London. Scandaltown joins Marianne Elliott's revival of Cock and the Trumpian drama The 47th spearheaded by Bertie Carvel under Ruper Goold. Directed by Rachel O'Riordan, this one's a cheeky, boisterous contemporary comedy of manners.

Modelled on Restoration satire, Bartett's new piece makes a spectacle out of the rakish tendencies of the upper class. It's not like we needed to be reminded that the élite are the corrupt sort - we only need to turn on the news for that - but aristocratic depravity's been entertaining audiences for centuries.

Scandaltown is big. 12 actors dressed in lavish costumes by Kinnetia Isidore strut their stuff across the Lyric Hammersmith's stage while deception and blunder take over their social affairs. Bartlett puts hypocrisy and fictitiousness on display, gorging on the shock still carried by immorality today.

In theory, our time period lends itself to comparison. Theatres have been closed for years, the ruling class are utter idiots, and people demand entertainment. The show is - obviously - on the nose, bawdy, slightly problematic at times, but filled to the brim with one-liners and throwaway wit.

Artificially and hyperbolically woke, it's ruthless in its caricature and, as expected, bland in its critique. The playwright writes according to tradition, his characters are debauched, unapologetic brats, pompous, kindhearted straight-shooters, or working class ciphers.

Phoebe and Jack Virtue have been brought up in the countryside by their Aunty Julie after their mother tragically died. When the fustian young woman receives a concerning letter from her brother - who moved to London for apparent philanthropic reasons - she sets off for the city to find him.

Cecilia Appiah is the sensible, non-frivolous Phoebe who's shocked to see how selfish, narcissistic, and hedonistic Matthew Broome's Jack has become. He lives in squalor with two activists who foot his bill, Freddie Peripheral (Luke Hornsby) and Jenny Hood (Ami Okumura Jones).

A one-night stand with social media queen Hannah Tweetwell (Alysha Kala) kick-starts the avalanche of scandal. While Hannah is pursuing her own plan to destroy socialite Lady Susan Climber (Rachael Stirling), the others are trapped in a farce.

Bartlett paints a world where Netflix's masked ball is the event of the season and politicians are shameless in their cowardice. His observations are acute, but the characters are bi-dimensional and anecdotal.

Jenny's anti-capitalistic attitude is spelt out repeatedly not by actions but her own explanations; Matt Eton, Secretary of State, looks like Cameron and speaks like Johnson; Aunty Judie is a smoking Northerner who entertains the postie with a quickie on his rounds.

There are digs at The Telegraph, the North, and Ken Loach too. The left is populated by an overly dramatic youth who will, eventually, be the only ones with the tools to go against the conservatives but won't win. Freddie might convince Eton to switch sides, but not even his beautifully conceived harangue on Partygate and his handling of the pandemic has a lasting effect.

Activism is seen as motivated by sex, money, fame, or all of those mixed together, but never as a genuine form of action. The upper-class is self-regulating and base, but will ultimately come out on top and be essential to society. Sir Dennis's (Chukwuma Omambala) denunciation of his own is inconsequential, but helps Freddie and his cause.

Identities are revealed, money is spent, the baddies repent but immediately go back to their own ways, and everyone lives happily ever after. Bartlett writes according to Restoration conventions (and actually inserts way more direct social criticism than dramatists used to).

What we must consider is, is there a place for this genre in our society or have we outgrown it entirely? When our life is dominated by social media and we're surrounded by reality-tv stars, influencers, billionaires, and politicians who flaunt their misdeeds and wealth, what is theatre adding to the conversation if it's deprived of commentary? "So many words, but nothing to say", Sir Dennis says.

Mostly, it's perhaps worth asking an uncomfortable question (and one that might be out of line). Has Mike Bartlett already peaked?

Scandaltown runs at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until 14 May.

Photo credit: Marc Brenner

To post a comment, you must register and login.