I first saw Isobel McArthur’s adaptation of revered Jane Austen classic Pride and Prejudice back in February of 2020—it was one of the last productions I watched before lockdowns kicked in and theatres went dark.
Since then, the show has rightly garnered huge praise and a West End production. A slightly updated version with a new cast is now touring the country, and I’m here to report that the show has lost none of its energy and verve. It’s a barmy, sweary, irreverent but affectionate take on the much-adapted novel.
The original cast of six has been trimmed to five, meaning that the doubling is even zanier than before. Each performer, over the course of the show, demonstrates real range, and the ensemble as a whole seem to be having a blast.
The adaptation takes huge liberties with the language of Austen—peppering it with swearwords for a start—but remains faithful to its narrative and heart. It also introduces (fairly gentle) interrogation of the class and gender politics at play, with a framing narrative which sees the waiting staff slacking off to entertain themselves by dressing up as their mistresses and masters.
They welcome us into the locales of Meryton, Pemberley, etc, with a layered set dominated by a sweeping staircase and Regency-ish costumes (all designed by Ana Inés Jabares-Pita). One particularly nice touch is the open back of the set: through it, we get glimpses of the performers as they move from one wing to the other to ready themselves for another costume change and a different entrance, reminding us of the purposeful business of the usually forgotten serving staff.
Emma Rose Creaner introduces the evening and takes on the vastly differing roles of Charles Bingley, Charles’s snobbish sister Caroline and Elizabeth Bennet’s close friend and confidante Charlotte Lucas. She also sings brilliantly—oh yes, there are karaoke versions of well-loved (and more obscure) pop songs, selected to mirror or wryly comment upon the action.
Again, as when I first saw this, I found the opening number slightly underwhelming, due largely to an uncertain start with a possibly faulty microphone or sound mix. The arrangements are also slightly less inventive this time around, lacking the harp accompaniment which added texture in the previous incarnation. But this is still a production that builds up an irrepressible, winning energy, and by the time the cast are all belting out “I Need A Hero” together, it’s hard not to be on board.
Naomi Preston Low steps into the role of Elizabeth Bennet with aplomb, acting as a strong central pivot for the rest of the plot. She’s compelling as both the mocking onlooker and the reluctant romantic. Christine Steel as Jane, the sister on whom most of the Bennets’ fortunes are pinned, is similarly central, though she gets to show range in another way, doubling as the imperious Lady Catherine de Burgh.
Susie Barrett impresses deeply in even more varied roles: she plays middle sister Mary, bespectacled and constantly threatening to sing, as well as the impulsive young tearaway Lydia. And, as tedious, bland clergyman Mr Collins, she evidences yet another great comic turn. Barrett (like the rest of the cast, to be fair) shows impeccable comic timing and physicality. It’s of note that Jos Houben, known from work with Complicité in their earliest years as well as many other lauded companies, has acted as a ‘comedy supervisor’ here. Not that writer-director McArthur needs too many tips, judging from her own performance in the earlier run of the show.
Taking on that mantle here, doubling as both Mrs Bennet and Mr Darcy, is Rhianna McGreevy. McGreevy is superb, wringing comedy from every coarse inflection of Mrs Bennet’s swear-filled dialogue yet also transforming herself into a taciturn Darcy, baffled by and disdainful of the people around him, until he comes across Elizabeth.
It’s hardly a surprise that this has proven a winning formula: a well-loved classic treated with love but not reverence, loaded with humorous lines and fourth-wall-breaking banter, packed with hit songs of yesteryear, with yet another cast of powerful and comic ensemble players.
Apart from the constant stream of coarse language, this is basically a year-round pantomime of a show. A good litmus test for whether you’ll enjoy it would be whether you find amusing the idea of a Quality Street-chomping Mrs Bennet snarling at a slightly moony Elizabeth, "don’t talk bollocks, Liz—Darcy wouldn’t piss on you if you woz on fire!"—then reappearing a scene later as that self-same Darcy. If you can get on board with that, you’ll find lots to love in this riproaring, uproarious romp of a show.