Review of ‘The Fit Prince’: “Hyper-gay rom-com manages to bear fruit”

Following the success of previous productions such as Diana: The Untold and Untrue Story and Gwyneth Goes Skiing, the team returns to the London scene with a parody love story between a monarch from a fictional realm and a baker from New York. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show to let us know if this queenly fairy tale features any royal bumps.

It’s called Awkward Productions for a reason. And if you’re sitting in the front row, or virtually anywhere else, you’re likely to find out why. If you’ve experienced any of their previous shows, chances are either you or your friends (that’s a generous assumption) have been brought onstage and used as unpaid cast members.

This one isn’t any different. In fact, not even the beginning leaves you off the hook. You may not play a royal servant in front of a puppet of Camilla infected with rabies, but you’ll get the chance to play a prince’s grinning corpse, an orphan parricide (inevitable correlation), a clumsy waiter with meet-cute powers, or an insidious doppelganger with so much charm as the next heart-stopper.

This is The Fit Prince, though you already knew that in the title. Take every 90s rom-com movie ever made and put it through a Red, White, And Royal Blue filter, remember to add functional humour and an entertaining plot to it, and there you have it — a queer love story guaranteed to make everyone in the room gay (obviously, in the “happy” sense of the word, they probably wouldn’t need help with the other one).

Set in the fictional yet weirdly familiar kingdom of Swedonia, the play takes us on a transatlantic adventure when a downcast New York baker (with the very appropriate surname of Butcher) is summoned to a foreign monarch’s residence to make a cake. Soon upon arrival, he would bump into Prince Elian, the dashing heir to the throne, who is on an urgent quest to find a spouse. If he doesn’t marry before Christmas Day, his dynasty will be finished. Yet, none of the available suitors is to his liking. Perhaps he’s just not the right dough for marriage. Or perhaps he’s been looking for the wrong bum — I mean, bun.

What’s new about this tale? Absolutely nothing, but that’s precisely its point. Not only does the show parody the genre in a deliciously droll manner, but it also doesn’t take itself too seriously about what it does or how it does it. That doesn’t compromise its quality, however. No matter how boisterously stupid the performance can get, you can still notice craftsmanship in its writing. The recount features every element it needs to work. And for the most part, they’re carefully honed and brightly polished.

The script does an excellent job of feeding the conflict. Beyond the prince’s rush to settle down and the possibility of becoming a baker’s wife, the story keeps taking extra turns. As a result, the pacing always remains high. And overall, so does the interest.

Simultaneously, both protagonists overflow with charm and warmth. The piece’s appearance might be camp and tongue-in-cheek, but a sizable layer of poignancy lies underneath. We may laugh with and at these characters — that’s their ultimate purpose, after all. Still, we can’t help but feel for them. We want them to succeed, to live happily ever after, and to spend the rest of their evenings dancing to their favourite song, BAAB’s The Movement King. If that nod has gone over your head, I guess you’re not the super trouper I thought you were.

The comedy brims with freshness and spontaneity. The jokes are simple but effective. Most of the punchlines are safe, but they never come across as tired, shoehorned, or formulaic. The renditions pair with the material’s uncomplicated essence, and the outcome is just brilliant.

Both Linus Karp (Elian) and Joseph Martin (Aaron Butcher) flaunt great timing and a natural predisposition for what they’re putting together. Their chemistry is as tangible as it is compelling. And the sharpness and stamina they bring to the roles are pure electricity onstage. Martin’s broad acting range, whose character roster extends to a 120-year-old hag with a heart as big as her hunch, earns him the highest praise — delivering each role with absolute command and effortlessness.

I didn’t care for the pro-Republican message at the end. Fortunately, it was not in the American sense of the word, also known as peace-award crybabies now. Yet, besides its soft lecturing and unpromising start, the show proves to be uproariously funny. Extraordinary portrayals, an amusing plot, and an inviting vibe that permeates every aspect of the performance make The Fit Prince a most noble gift to court any worthy theatre companion. It’s a wonderful union between the boisterous and the endearing, which is why last night everyone was engaged.

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All pictures credit to Anna Clare.

The Fit Prince plays at London’s King’s Head Theatre until 3 January. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara