Review: MATES IN CHELSEA, Royal Court

The Royal Court was the first stage for Lucy Wade’s biting satire Posh, which focused on the lack of consequences of the poor and entitled behaviour of certain members of the upper classes. That was back in 2010 and it can be argued that amount of material to work with on the subject is even greater that ever. Unfortunately, Rory Mullarkey’s new play wastes every opportunity to say anything novel.

Mates in Chelsea tells the story of posh boy Theodore 'Tug' Bungay. Living a life of lunches and parties in South West London, with a long-suffering fiancée, he is looking forward to a summer of shooting and lazing around with his friend Charlie at his country pad; a castle in Northumberland.

When his mother Agrippina visits, she informs him that the castle is to be sold to a Russian oligarch as he has spent all his money on smoked salmon. The action then moves to castle Dimley Grange where an elaborate buffet, a game of badminton and several alternative oligarchs lead to Tug losing everything.

A play of contemporary manners, lampooning the upper classes in the very area of London that they congregate should be a clever, satirical piece of writing. However, Mullarkey's script is meandering, unfunny and full of unfinished ideas. 

Mullarkey's intent is surely to give a satisfying comeuppance to the idle rich, but it is hard to take any satisfaction in the play, as there is such a distinct lack of identity; it is parody? Is it satire? Is it witty commentary on Russian influence in contemporary society? In fact, it feels more like an unsuccessful comedy short stretched out way too far over two hours.

The able cast do what they can with the increasingly bizarre material. Laurie Kynaston, bedecked in peach satin tracksuit bottoms, a garish purple linen shirt and sliders, is credible as the vacuous playboy who is both childlike and petulant when he realises he cannot continue his life of empty pleasure. Fenella Woolgar brings character to the role of Agrippina, but has little to really get her teeth into.

Amy Booth-Steel is nicely deadpan as socialist housekeeper Mrs Hanratty and George Fouracres relishes the flexing of his comedic muscle as the witless posho Charlie Thrupp.

Milla Clarke's set design is striking; from Tug's starkly white-walled batchelor pad complete with a hideous modern artwork, to the hedged gardens of Dimley Grange. Although it's a mystery why the name of the castle hangs from the ceiling, constructed in the font of a horror film pastiche.

From the stilted and meaningless encounters in the TV show Made in Chelsea, to the depressing fact that 20 of our Prime Ministers went to the same school near Slough and the increasing social division in our society. There is huge potential for a clever, sharp and witty play here. This is not it.

Mates in Chelsea runs at the Royal Court until 16 December

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