Upstairs at the Gatehouse
Jenny Selway's new play tells one of the best-known stories from one of the least explored perspectives. Where you might expect it to be populated with Whitehall mandarins muttering their disapproval in corridors of power, we have instead American heiresses and a couple of gossipy British servants providing catty commentary on our promiscuous, decadent often Nazi-loving upper classes.
The title, of course, refers to the American social climber whose charms caused a constitutional crisis in 1936 when King Edward VIII (Grant McConvey) gave up the monarchy to be with her.
If there's a moral to this show, it's be careful what you wish for. As the married Wallis, an excellent Emma Odell transmits the steely determination with which the socialite betrayed her husband and inveigled her way into the royal court - only to be marooned in a relationship, it's suggested, after the former King was cut loose by the British establishment. But the focus here is on her rise, a trajectory accompanied with songs (lyrics also by Selway) sung with Cowardesque piquancy by Robert Hazle.
John Plews's production goes on for about two (repetitive) scenes too many. And given the title I wanted to know more about the relatively modest beginnings that drove Wallis's ambition, and more on life after abdication, only not without one of those tedious flashback plays, please.
But as it stands this is still one of the most engaging and best acted shows I've seen on this stage, and a better option than many a West End offering.