Review of ‘1536’: “Anne Boleyn-themed drama needs some reformation”

“This is England, woman”. A simple line unloads all the ominous weight of a dire age — and a most dangerous situation. What once was a harmless, playful act has become a death sentence. Yes, this England. 16th-century England. And the social dynamics among men and women, nobles and peasants, and virtually anyone abided by far different standards from those today.

You wouldn’t tell if you closed your eyes, however. Beyond their discussions about Anne Boleyn falling out of the King’s favour, their language sounds awfully contemporary. There’s a lot of swearing. Not for historical purposes, but for comedic effect. It doesn’t land as smoothly as the author may have intended, though. Especially when that’s what ninety-five per cent of its humour is all about.

Still, it would be unfair to say there isn’t something intrinsically enjoyable about 1536, which, following its inaugural run at the Almeida, is currently celebrating its first West End transfer. A small rural community located two towns from Colchester serves as the setting for this crude picture of societal oppression and gender bias.

Anna, Jane and Mariella have been close friends for a long time. Yet, they couldn’t be more dissimilar from each other. While Jane wishes for a traditional, ladylike life, Anna refuses to endure the limitations of convention. She’s a free spirit, and she intends to live as such. So many men have loved her. And so many have lain with her. To feel desired has become her strength. And her weapon. That is, until her chances weaken and ultimately, it all backfires.

Ava Pickett’s script builds an engrossing narrative despite its flaws. The thematic correlations with previous, renowned works, primarily The Crucible, are evident. Both depict systemic oppression, the way people try to navigate its very thin channels in pursuit of their own survival. But the complexity and nuance that Arthur Miller gave us aren’t as prominent in Pickett’s writing, which, although entertaining and occasionally thought-provoking, doesn’t exhibit all the profundity and character development the plot calls for.

Putting its redundant, forced profanity aside, the dialogue is still a little coarse. Not in terms of flow, which is consistent, but of wit and subtlety. There are occasional introspective moments, but on the whole, the play’s message is delivered too bluntly and inorganically, to the point that some of the personages’ actions come off rushed and slightly artificial.

The same applies to the recount’s overall structure, which is sketchy and unbalanced regarding its pacing. The basic conflict is properly executed, but its ramifications are vapid. Some women are being unfairly persecuted. And that will soon affect the three protagonists in some way or another. Nonetheless, the exploration of their own personal struggles feels shallow and one-dimensional.

We hear what’s happening to others. And we understand the characters’ fears of suffering the same plight. But the script doesn’t delve into their personal hurdles — Anna being, perhaps, the only exception. Topics like domestic abuse, rape, and unfounded accusations of murder are presented superficially, preventing the pathos from ever solidifying.

Correspondingly, the transformational arcs never materialise. The protagonists are more compelling than their male counterparts, who are painfully one-dimensional, but their journey is vacuous anyway. Neither Marielle nor Jane shows any signs of evolution other than their drastic change of attitude to cover their backs during the story’s climax. And although Anne begins to notice the darkest shades of the world she belongs to, there’s not much that she does with it that allows the role to grow.

Fortunately, none of those issues blemishes the cast’s performances, which are impeccable for the most part. Sienna Kelly shines through her sassy, instantly likeable rendition of Anne, while Oliver Johnstone swarms with magnetism in his portrayal of the insidious Richard. Liv Hill earns another mention as Jane, whom she plays with competence and naturalness, underpinning the character’s naive, simple-minded charm.

It’s a powerful subject. And had it been catalysed by an equally powerful script, 1536 could become one of the crown’s jewels in the West End’s current landscape, offering a compelling narrative that confidently pulls at the viewers’ heartstrings while also providing substantial food for thought. The result might not be disappointing enough to make a few heads roll, but I wouldn’t lose mine over it either.

All pictures credit to Helen Murray.

1536 plays at London’s Ambassadors Theatre until 1 August. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara