Two London productions re-interpret literary classics: I only love one of them

If I were a real arts critic, paid to be an arbiter of good taste, I would no doubt tell you that the best theatre experience I’ve had in London in recent weeks was Player Kings, the mash-up of Henry IV parts one and two currently providing a star vehicle for Ian McKellen at the Noël Coward Theatre. But I’m not, and I won’t. Because though there was much that was worthy and thought-provoking in the Shakespearean offering, my heart belongs to an extension of Jane Austen’s universe brought to life on a tiny West End stage that even most of London’s theatre cognoscenti don’t know exists.

Being Mr. Wickham is a one-man, one-act show that drops us in to the study of Jane Austen’s most notorious villain on the evening of his 60th birthday. He’s had a spat with his wife Lydia, but he’s fired with the energy of the day and he wants to talk. Given the milestone of age, he’s in the mood to reminisce. What follows is a wildly entertaining conversation that updates us on how all of our favourite characters from Pride and Prejudice have evolved, makes us question the plot we thought we knew, and suggests some interesting parallels with our modern times.

I use the word “conversation” intentionally. No, you’re not talking back to the actor. But the 70-seat Jermyn Street Theatre is so intimate, and Adrian Lukis so adept at engaging the audience, that everyone else seems to disappear and you really do feel like you’re having an intimate tête-à-tête with one of literature’s most charismatic rogues. The fact that Lukis brings Wickham to such glorious, credible life is no surprise. He played the role in the BBC’s landmark 1995 adaptation, and though he’s been a busy actor in the three decades since, there’s a whole generation who will always imagine him as a Regency-era rake.  

He also wrote the play, thus brings an author’s intimate understanding to the words. And good words they are, too. Many writers have tried to extend Austen’s world, with varying levels of success. They usually get the language wrong, forgetting that Austen was remarkably sparse in her description, simple in her vocabulary, and deftly subtle in her characterisations. Lukis gets all of this spot on, as well as giving us plot evolutions that are entirely credible. His combined amazement and horror both at making it to 60 and evolving into a somewhat respectable member of society is so Wickham.

Austen never wrote scenes without women, because she insisted on writing only what she knew. So another delight of this show is getting a perspective that feels authentically Austen, but is also undeniably masculine. It goes places Jane could not, reminding us of a sexual licentiousness and an urban dynamism within the Regency that are alien to the novels, but would have been familiar to … if unspoken by … her male characters. Wickham’s anecdote about almost winning a night with one of the greatest courtesans of the age, only to by cut out by Byron, is thrilling.

Lukis originally wrote the one-act play for the 2019 Jane Austen festival in Bath, and I originally saw it during a broadcast production when the pandemic locked us all in. I liked it so much then that I jumped at the chance to see it live, and I’m so glad I did. The size of the theatre and Lukis’ electric presence made this a truly memorable theatrical experience.

Player Kings was equally memorable, even if I didn't enjoy it as much. There’s a reason that Ian McKellen is considered one of the greatest actors of his generation. He commands the stage with a presence few other human beings can muster. As expected, he delivers the best Falstaff I’ve ever seen. Remarkably complex. Villainous yet vulnerable. Unattractive yet compelling. Funny yet heartbreaking. Robert Icke’s editing of two plays into one has, naturally, left a lot on the cutting room floor. What remains might have just as well been called Falstaff.

The challenge of this approach for me is that Falstaff’s always been the character who irritates me most in these plays. Queen Elizabeth might have loved him so much she asked Shakespeare to give him his own play (giving us the Merry Wives of Windsor), but I would have asked The Bard to cut that role way back. I get the poignancy, and real-world relevance, of balancing the father Prince Hal has with the father figure he chooses to have fun with. But I want the plays to focus on Hal’s unexpected development from disappointing rebel to great king, and his changing relationship with his father. Falstaff is a necessary catalyst to those changes, but I prefer him in the background.

I wanted the Prince Hal focus even more from this production, since Prince Hal is being brought to life by Toheeb Jimoh, who gave us the delectable Sam Obisanya in Ted Lasso. Jimoh is fantastic. He probably did a better job than any other actor I’ve seen in the role at bringing out the teenage irresponsibility and madness of the young Hal. I think the prince’s character transformation is one of the hardest in literature to pull off … yes, I know Shakespeare is sacred but his plot makes the evolution pretty hard to believe … but Jimoh manages well. 

He’s hindered by Icke’s interpretation however, which makes some odd choices. I’ll avoid spoilers but say the way this production delivers the duel between Hal and Hotspur bothered me so much I pulled out the play as soon as I got home to check the author’s stage instructions. While Icke isn’t specifically countering anything written by Shakespeare, he’s introducing stuff that brings Hal’s whole character development … and thus the traditional meaning of the whole play … into question. No matter how good the acting, “the play’s the thing”, and I’m not a fan of what this production did to this one.

Of course, I’m not the target market. Player Kings, like the current production of Romeo and Juliet with Tom Holland playing just down the street, has been designed to bring in a younger audience that isn’t naturally drawn to Shakespeare. Thus the present day East End gangland setting, the mixed race casting, the modern music. Being Mr. Wickham, on the other hand, was clearly developed for a generation of people … mostly female … for whom that 1995 television production was transformative. It’s no surprise that we meet Wickham on turning 60; I suspect his frustrations at reaching an age he doesn’t feel parallel a great many in the audience. Including me in a few months. So while I’m glad I made the effort to see McKellen and Jimoh live on stage, it’s Lukis who gave me the greatest joy.

Both shows have very short London runs closing on 22 June, so if you’re interested in either get booking now.