A wicked and educational punch of a play about the cost of revolution

From the moment we set foot in the auditorium of the New Diorama Theatre, it’s clear what kind of a show we are going to get. Hazel Low has the stage strewn with props and accessories–a thick gym mat, plastic balls, a smattering of wigs–as well as signs to hang around the neck to label each character as “King” or “Aristocrat” or “Peasant”. To lean on my GCSE Drama knowledge, it’s Brechtian (get me), designed to distance us and remind us we are watching a show, to keep us interested and engaged by the fourth-wall breaking drama so we truly think about its message. For this show, it’s the perfect choice.

A Narrator steps up to the mic and we are off into the well-designed madness. The story takes us from 1789 to 1794, documenting the conditions in France that led to the French Revolution and its aftermath. We are introduced to characters across the three estates–the King and Queen, the Aristocrats and the Bourgeoisie, and the humble and starving Peasants–and, as we tumble through the timeline, we are given a masterclass in energy and multi-roling. Latterly, we arrive suddenly in the present day where we are forced to consider what events might be lurking around our own corner, at the danger that might be brewing beneath the boringness of our political landscape.

The play is wonderfully written by Sam Ward. It’s clear a huge amount of consideration has gone into how to tell this story, and the outcome is a resounding success. The play dances from moments of punchy single-line deliveries to longer, slightly more poetic speeches. Indeed, the description of the lengths hunger can take us and what we will do to feel full is equal parts incisive and harrowing.

Real fun has been had in deciding how to stage each scene and the imagination and creativity is a key reason the show contains such bounce, and surprising depth. The storming of Bastille being commentated on by its military governor, Bernard-René Jordan de Launay, as if it was a sporting event is brilliantly funny as well as informational, but soon turns uncomfortable (in a good way) when he is forced to start describing his experience of being brutally murdered.

It appears to have been a good choice to let Ward direct, too, as there is a thoroughly symbiotic relationship between the writing and direction in this piece. The particularly clownish moments are chosen with care, such as having the audience lob plastic balls and the failing King as he jumps up and down in an inflatable bouncy castle. Vive la révolution?

The cast is electric and pulses with energy, and each member undoubtedly understands the assignment. Given how many characters they play, and how well they all carry the momentum of the show, Joe Boylan, Paul Brendan, Sha Dessi, Jessica Enemokwu and Alice Keedwell all deserve praise. Even the tiniest stumbles–hard to avoid in a show containing such breakneck pace–were calmly smoothed out.

To be clear, it’s not that the show lacks room to breathe. It simply chooses its moments wisely. The combination of all of the above is a creative, playful yet hard-hitting show which is surprisingly successful at transporting a modern audience into the shoes of those who lived over 200 years ago. When they bring us to the modern day, there’s a moment where boredom threatens to hit as we listen to (without seeing) an increasingly hard to discern conversation between upper class toffs. However, the slow and precise onstage action manages to maintain our attention, especially when we realise a moment of boredom might actually be part of the point.

Perhaps one of the most satisfying things about this play is that it resists the urge to make one simple point at the end. Instead, it’s a piece that leaves the audience wanting to have a discussion; in fact, it almost demands we have one. Is the show saying we should, as the youth might say, eat the rich? Not exactly. Is it saying we should never revolt and be satisfied with the current state of affairs? Definitely not. Does it comment on what might happen if you oppress the poor for too long, if thousands or millions die in poverty while a minority continue to fatten, if you cultivate a hunger on the streets? Yes.

What we should do about this is up to us, but The Glorious French Revolution is certainly a warning. There is a violence in the mundanity we would be foolish to ignore, even if our solution does not involve building a guillotine.