“Mrs Thatcher has got eyes like a psychotic killer, but a voice like a gentle person. It is a bit confusing.” This could have been a line uttered by one of the characters in Moira Buffini’s new play but it’s actually taken from Adrian Mole’s Secret Diary. It is fitting to quote Adrian today not just because we should remember the unparalleled Sue Townsend who has sadly put the lid on her writing pen forever. It’s fitting because Handbagged displays the sort of sharp and observant humour we have come to love from Townsend. Considering the characters we’re dealing with the piece is a surprisingly joyful and entertaining romp.
For Artistic Director Indhu Rubasingham, however, the production is no laughing matter. Having just openend another production in New York (Red Velvet), this West End transfer marks an important point for The Tricycle theatre and the Arts Council funding it receives. Handbagged has been expanded from a 2010 short play at The Tricycle and it whizzes wittily through Margaret Thatcher’s time as Prime Minister of Britain.
Like Peter Morgan’s The Audience it uses the confidential weekly meetings the Queen has with her Prime Ministers as a theatrical conceit to explore the relationship of the women. The creatives needn’t have to worry about the uniqueness of the angle though. It might never be revealed who said what in these meetings, which is something that’s highlighted by the characters constantly exclaiming “We never said that!”, with varying degrees of tongue-in-cheek. It doesn’t matter though because Buffini’s guess is as educational as it is entertaining.
Facilitated by a strong female director (Rubasingham herself) this well-researched history lesson covers all the major events from Rhodesia, the Falklands war, the miner strike, IRA or the Brighton bombing from a distinct female perspective. The two main characters (in their younger and older incarnations played by four actors) go through eleven eventful years together and as they sit together every week and have their tea, there is no sign of domestication of its topic matter. Fenella Woolgar’s younger Thatcher opposite Lucy Robinson is caught between reverence for the Queen and the need to prove herself as a strong achieving woman.
Thatcher’s complete refusal to accept that the community is worth supporting and that social responsibility is not born from a liberal market, seems to perpetually confuse the monarch. A clever sub motif about unemployed actors (the performers address the audience throughout) links in nicely with Thatcher’s attitude towards strikes and employment policies. Marion Bailey excels as the older Queen not just in her eery likeness and Stella Gonet’s older Thatcher is as sharp-tongued as you would expect. Both older characters deliver a running commentary on the events their younger counterparts live through; this structure is a tricky setup but is facilitated by the addition of two male actors playing all the men these women had to deal with throughout their lives. From Denis Thatcher to Geoffrey Howe or Prince Philip, Jeff Rawle shines in the various roles he inhabits. He and Neet Mohan are clad in white trousers to blend in with Richard Kent’s clever and simple set design. As the issue of power is threaded deeply into the fabric of the play even the bright costumes of the women carry out their own unspoken battle.
Some of the characterisation can surely be objected to. Ronald Regan is a mere caricature and to have the Queen so vehemently defend social values (or socialist, as Thatcher would have put it) to the degree she does here seems a bit of a stretch. Also, her love for gossip may or may not be vastly overplayed. This is, however, political satire and where would the fun be without a bit of leeway? In a balancing act to avoid both alienation and patronisation of the audience the play abstains from taking too obvious a stance on Thatcher’s politics, sometimes disappointingly so.
The second half of the piece goes to some very dark places placing both Thatcher and the Queen into the proximity of death because of their power. When the Iron Lady seems unmoved by war, riots and explosions around her it’s hard not to admire her self-assertion. One can agree with Adrian Mole: looking at Thatcher is indeed confusing. With a questionable legacy that reverberates until this very day she might not be an easy person to sympatise with, but this production takes a good shot at shining a light on her motivations. It does so without mawkishness or judgement, but with a good dose of humour.