The Divine Mrs S

Prolific writer April de Angelis returns with another historical play, this time delving into the world of 18th century and one of its best known actresses Sarah Siddons. This is her seventh play in nine years and, while the rate at which she creates new work is commendable, this latest outing suggests that it was written with more haste than speed.

While it may have been tempting to trace Siddon’s arc from her early days - her initial rejection from Theatre Royal Drury Lane then her success in the provinces before returning in triumph to that same venue - de Angelis instead plonks us down in the middle of the tragidienne’s life and we find her engulfed in an emotional and career crisis. One of her daughters has recently died. Her husband is shacked up with another woman and is frittering her money away. The Drury Lane audiences love her but she is forced to play minor roles opposite her far less talented brother Phillip Kemble who manages the place.

De Angelis isn’t scared to point fingers at those she believes are responsible for the modern state of theatre, taking aim of those who think women just write comedy and those who rarely commission new work and, worst of all, those damnable critics, Siddons lived in a time when female roles were both fewer and lesser ( the mistress, the adulterer, the murderer etc) and who can say things have got that much better? True, there is far more genderblind casting and degendered roles and Hampstead should take a bow for putting on West End-ready plays like this and Lauren Gunderson’s Anthropology with their heavy female presence on stage and off. As the majority of the works being staged were written and are being directed and produced by the stale, pale and male, though, I suspect that there will be an uneven playing field for some time to come.

Rachel Stirling is a solid force throughout scene after scene as the benighted actress let down by husband and brother at every turn. She teases out the irony of a life spent portraying fictional tragedies for audiences while her own life is beset on all sides by them. When demanded, she handles the switch from drama to comedy seamlessly, her wisecracks and emoting being similarly effecting. Opposite her, Dominic Rowan as her brother is a perfect foil as the hammy sibling with an inferiority complex. They are joined by a cast of mult-rolers who adeptly round out Siddon’s world.

De Angelis does her best to keep the exposition nippy, the humour light and bawdy and the narrative clear. Based on what I saw of Opening Night, acclaimed West End director Ivo van Hove could learn something from her about how to create a stage experience about theatre which entertains as it educates and elucidates and doesn’t end up disappearing up its own rear end. Lez Brotherton once again dreams up a memorable set design, putting Siddons’ dressing room in the foreground; unlike many other theatre-set plays, the Matthew Bourne collaborator makes the smart choice to have the actress meet her audience upstage.

The Divine Mrs S, though, is far from divine in its story telling. At over two hours, the whole thing feels baggy at times in director Anna Mackmin’s hands. The Blackadder-style chuckles deliciously pump up our interest but the storylines lose power the further we go. An entire subplot about a failed attempt to create a leading role for Sarah ultimately goes nowhere and certain characters seem to be there just so that De Angelis can poke her fingers into some modern eyes along the way. Somewhere buried in here is a sharp and intelligent play. I look forward to seeing it.

The Divine Mrs S continues until 27 April.

Photo credit: Johan Persson