Queen Victoria’s platonic love story with her Indian adviser comes to the stage in a new play with songs, brought to life by the Royal Shakespeare Company. Guillermo Nazara gives his views on the show, to let us know if this historical piece of noble affairs deserves to hold court.
A friendship is a soul abiding two bodies. But it’s precisely the differences between our bodies that makes others want to set us apart. The story of Queen Victoria’s close relationship with Mohammed Abdul Karim (aka the Munshi) has always been darkened by the shadows of speculation. Rumours and gossip flew around court, with almost the entire household not understanding (or maybe, understanding too well) how a monarch could befriend whom they considered an inferior just due to the colour of his skin.
Fiction has not ignored what’s, without a doubt, the subject for a fiery drama – the Judi Dench film probably being the most prominent one in the last years. And so, the latest attempt to recount the intellectual romance between the ruler and her loyal instructor has landed on the boards of London’s Lyric Hammersmith, in a double-plotted play revolving around the struggles of Indian immigrants.
Presented by the RSC, The Empress recalls the final chapters of Victoria’s life – enlightened by the candour of her former valet, but also followed by the coldness of her entourage’s jealousy. Penned by Tanika Gupta, the royal matters also tread the peasant grounds in this version through the parallel tale of Rani, a fellow countrywoman and servant who, just as many of her people, goes through a hell of injustice she can only bear with by wishing for a better tomorrow. Exuding charm and righteousness in its message, the play’s noble intentions are however unmatched by the delivery of its script – the problem concerning its overall structure as well as the construction of most scenes.
Though the duality of high and low backgrounds suggests an interesting concept, the idea sadly fails to materialize in an enticing outcome – both storylines feeling too distant (despite their mutual rapport) to provide an unified, cohesive narrative. Neither of them works as a subplot. And though maybe deliberate, such a decision prevents the piece from developing a proper arc – often looking too jammed with unnecessary elements that little do they contribute to its pacing or evolution. In addition, the dialogues (though entertaining at some moments) lack further depth, subtlety and, above all, truthfulness – displaying a far-off image that bars the naturalness and humanity any play (especially, when portraying historical characters) should always be endowed with.
Directed by Pooja Ghai, the production features compelling (occasionally, impressive) visuals, thanks to Rossa Maggiora’s quaint designs and, specifically, Matt Haskins’s exquisite lighting. Yet, the set does not always evoke the reality it’s supposed to transport us to – on several bits, unable to bring out the scent of Victorian London with the same effectiveness as with, for example, the snippets taking place by the sea.
But none of the before seems so crucial as when it comes to questioning its genre. Why isn’t this a musical?! Starting with a sung-through opening number (with a few more scattered all throughout) and featuring a beautiful, reminiscent score by Ben and Max Ringham, there’s simply too many parts when you hope (and you’d be right to do so) for the characters to begin belting. Not only does the recount have all the components to make it succeed in this style, but also many of the writing issues would have potentially been solved by adding some notes to the words. After all, we’re talking about the company who made the poor chant and I believe they did alright for a couple of years.
As for the cast, the company plays their roles with obvious commitment and care for the piece, but some performances seem a bit too constrained. Regardless, there are some special mentions to be given – all of them coming from Buckingham’s private apartments. Alexandra Gilbreath carries out a noticeable rendition as Queen Victoria, providing the revered sovereign with a more hearty appeal – warm and enchanting in general, although every now and then feeling excessively camp. On the other hand, Joe Usher also makes a lasting impression with his portrayal of Mohammed – a little too quiet and discreet for the charisma his role is supposed to ooze, but all in all, strong and with enough presence. However, the biggest praise is fairly earned by Francesca Faridany’s most polished (and striking) depiction of the monarch’s daughter, Lady Sarah – giving an astonishingly believable interpretation of an obnoxious, yet also complex and self-conflicting persona.
Parting from an excellent premise, The Empress is still in need of finding its own essence and individuality. A tale that’s been told in so many ways since the palace’s walls began to whisper, the creative team should come up with that zest of originality that makes the piece not just one more, but the one that flashes into our minds when we think about this thrilling episode of British history. If you want to make it work, then you must step on the edge and let the flow mark its course. Some will fall and some will live. Will you stand up and take your chance?
All pictures credit to Elle Kurttz.
The Empress plays at London’s Lyric Hammersmith until 28 October. Tickets are available on the following link.