Review: THE GLORIOUS FRENCH REVOLUTION, New Diorama Theatre

Finding the funny in one of Europe’s most violent episodes of political tumult, YESYESNONO’s The Glorious French Revolution (or: why sometimes it takes a guillotine to get anything done) is a riotous romp.

Most people know of 1789, when the starving peasants and the ambitious bourgeoisie in France overthrew the aristocracy and installed a constitutional monarch. What is less well covered on this side of the Channel is how that outcome turned into utter carnage soon after. The backlash to the backlash created more massacres when the period known as the Reign of Terror brutalised a country already in despair. Within the space of a year or so, over 16,000 death sentences were handed out, around 11,000 were executed without trial and another 10,000 died in prison.

Directed and written by Sam Ward, this is a fast and frenetic take on those events which sees its five-strong cast (Joe Boylan, Paul Brendan, Sha Dessi, Jessica Enemokwu and Alice Keedwell) carry us from the earliest days of the revolution and through its bloodiest moments. At one end of society, we see how the peasants died of starvation and were forced to give up what food they had to aristocrats, taxmen and later their new bourgeoisie overlords. At the other end, we see the King lose his powerful position before he loses even more as heads are lopped off at an increasingly alarming rate. 

There’s no whiff of fromage when it comes to The Glorious French Revolution, no hints of romance or outbreaks of plaintive singing and no shortage of grinding misery on display amid the skilful acting. In short, this is no Les Mis (even if Dessi has previously played Eponine in the West End).

With his actors decked out in the outfits of different French sports teams and bouncing over a vaulting horse or onto a gym mattress, Ward’s staging has a lively feel from the off. Carrying his metaphor further, his reading of the 18th-century events is that the 1789 revolution and all that followed was no game with winners and champions but rather a desperate story of wealthy losers and poverty-stricken losers. The only eventual "trophies" - the declaration of human rights, the demise of the feudal system in favour of democracy and a republic and the establishment of “liberté, égalité, fraternité” at the heart of French identity - are presented as pyrrhic rewards.

Grim though its subject is, The Glorious Revolution is delivered with enough zip and energy to power a small village. Swapping through the 36 roles with dizzying speed, the cast dash up, down and across Hazel Low’s dynamic set. Projected titles break down the sections as we go from “Things Were Bad. Really F*cking Bad” through to “The Revolution Is Not Over”. Characters identified by pieces of cardboard held aloft or worn around the neck speak to us through megaphones and microphones as physical violence is doled out in playful fashion through foam batons.

A poignant final scene is set in the modern day. From an off-stage dinner party, discussions of property deals and other middle-class matters are punctuated by excited squeals and screams. A waiter runs over to deliver - of course - a cake. Meanwhile, the cast painstakingly construct piece by piece a very realistic guillotine, shiny metal blade and all. The times may have changed, Ward seems to be saying, but in this world with its wealth-hoarding “1%” and billionaire playing at astronauts and politicians while, as a study today suggests, more than a third of UK children live in poverty, perhaps revolution isn’t as far away as it seems.

The relentless pacing sags somewhere in the middle even with the occasional ominous deceleration to recount horrific details, for example when an aristo is dragged off his horse and slowly dismembered by the crowd. Han Sayles’ lighting and the musical compositions of Tom Foskett-Barnes set the tone as we barrel along on a tale which has all the intrigue and fatuous egos of Succession.

Even with the flurry of names, dates and statistics thrown at us, this is an enthralling rollercoaster of a work.

The Glorious French Revolution (or: why sometimes it takes a guillotine to get anything done) continues at the New Diorama Theatre until 14 December.

Photo credits: Alex Brenner

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