1536

A beautifully written and quietly unsettling historical drama

The events of 1536 take place in Essex during one of the most uncertain periods of English history. Throughout the play we gradually learn of how Anne Boleyn, Queen of England, was arrested, tried and ultimately beheaded at the Tower of London on charges of treason and adultery. While this story mostly exists in the background, the action of the play closely parallels it. We watch three women slowly change from carefree and open with one another to becoming afraid of being themselves, as the treatment of the Queen trickles down into everyday life and changes the way ordinary men see and treat women.

There was something in that fear of hiding who you are, and in seeing what happens to people who openly behave a certain way, that reminded me strongly of 1984. Not in a direct narrative sense, but in the atmosphere of quiet fear and social control. The idea that people begin censoring themselves long before authority directly reaches them is something the play captures incredibly well.

There are a lot of naughty words throughout, though for the most part they are delivered naturally without making a huge scene out of them, which honestly feels refreshing compared with many modern plays. Nothing feels included simply for shock value. In the same way, some may well call this a feminist play, but again the focus here is on telling a genuinely good story rather than constantly forcing a message to the front. The themes emerge naturally through the characters and their relationships. Ava Pickett has done a wonderful job here and, honestly, restored my faith in modern playwrights. Under the direction of Lyndsey Turner, the production manages to keep that balance throughout, never allowing the historical backdrop or wider themes to overwhelm the humanity of the characters.

The set design by Max Jones is excellent. It feels almost like a vignette or a cross-section cut out of the countryside. We are presented with a realistic meadow complete with walkway, tree and grass, all of which the performers interact with in a wonderfully naïve and natural way. They sit, roll, fight and lean against the tree with such ease that the world feels fully lived in from the moment the play begins. On either side of this cutaway section are exposed stage lights rigged in full view of the audience. The scene changes are marked by a bright white strip framing the stage space accompanied by a dull electronic drone drone from Tingying Dong’s sound design.. Some audience members around me seemed visually shocked whenever this happened.

Practically, the harsh lighting against the blacked-out stage made it difficult to fully see the performers changing position for the next scene, I actually found the effect strangely effective. Combined with the plain white screen upstage, it created an oddly voyeuristic feeling, as though we were intruding on private moments rather than simply watching a play. It is a design choice that deliberately contrasts with the beauty of the meadow setting, and it adds much more depth to what could otherwise have been just a visually attractive but simple stage.

The cast are uniformly strong. Liv Hill as Jane plays the youngest and most innocent of the group, and she brings some genuinely lovely moments early on with rapid shifts of enthusiasm, awkwardness and emotion. Towards the end I personally felt there could perhaps have been more of a gradual rise in tension rather than sudden emotional jumps, though there are clear trigger points written into the script, so this may simply come down to preference.

Siena Kelly as Anna was probably the most entertaining character for me, and Kelly looks like she is having a fantastic time in the role. What impressed me most is that these characters are not written as simple types. They are defined more through the way they interact with one another than through obvious personality labels, which again feels refreshing.

Tanya Reynolds as Mariella acts largely as the voice of reason and the more grounded of the three women, though she has her own struggles and emotional journey as the play unfolds. Reynolds gives the role a warmth that helps anchor many of the more intense moments.

Supporting them are Oliver Johnstone as Richard and George Kemp as William. Richard is the one character I am still slightly unsure about, both in how he was written and performed. For most of the play we understand exactly what kind of person he is, but towards the end his behaviour shifts dramatically. I suspect this is intended to show how people can become radicalised by fear, gossip and public narratives, which is an interesting idea, though I would perhaps have liked to see those changes develop more gradually across the play.

George Kemp, meanwhile, makes a major impact despite having comparatively brief moments on stage. Kemp fully commits to the role and manages to make us feel every conflicting emotion his character experiences.

I feel like I should end with some grand statement about reclaiming history or comparing this to another show featuring Anne Boleyn, but honestly, I do not think the play needs that. 1536 succeeds because it is simply well written, artistically directed and masterfully performed.

Photos by Helen Murray