I’m Sorry, Prime Minister

the final chapter of Yes Minister

A fast-talking comedy bringing political farce back into fashion

To confess, I have only seen the first episode of Yes Minister, along with the many clips that now circulate online whenever people compare the show to the current government’s incompetence. Even with limited knowledge of the original series, though, I’m Sorry, Prime Minister is still easy enough to follow, while longtime fans probably had plenty of references and callbacks to enjoy.

The set design is immediately striking. It feels realistic and lived in, giving the impression of an house that has been occupied for decades by someone who refuse to let go of power or organise. One particularly amusing detail is the working stair lift, which becomes an unexpected source of laughs after the interval. It is such a small touch, but perfectly in keeping with the production’s blend of political satire and ageing bureaucracy.

Upstage are large windows, behind which sits a video wall displaying exterior scenes and changing weather effects, from rain to snow. At first, I really liked the idea, as it added movement and atmosphere to what is otherwise a dialogue-heavy show. However, the perspective occasionally looked slightly off, which distracted from the realism the rest of the set worked so hard to create. Even so, the concept itself is definitely something worth exploring further in other productions.

In keeping with my understanding of the original material, there is never any direct mention of political parties. The script cleverly skirts around the subject, noting that Hacker now sits on the crossbenches in the Lords. It allows the satire to remain broad enough that everyone in the audience can recognise shades of modern politics without the play becoming tied to one side.

The story follows the events after the television series. Jim Hacker (Simon Rouse) is now the ousted Prime Minister and head of a college at a university. He is well beyond retirement age and completely out of touch with modern students and youth culture. The university leadership are trying to remove him following complaints about language he has used, alongside his refusal to issue trigger warnings on books included on the reading list. Much of the humour comes from the clash between old political thinking and modern culture.

Clive Francis as Sir Humphrey is undoubtedly the highlight of the production. He captures the mannerisms, rhythm and endless verbal gymnastics of the character brilliantly. Several scenes involve long, semi-coherent bursts of rapid dialogue clearly designed to confuse both the characters on stage and the audience watching. Francis delivers these moments with such confidence and precision that even when you lose track of the actual point being made, the comedy still lands.

We are also introduced to Sophie (Princess Donnough), very much positioned as the “what can you do with a BA in English?” character. Early in the play there are several jokes at her expense. I am not usually one to spoil punchlines, but one gag was woven so subtly through the script that I think much of the audience missed it. At one point, there is a joke suggesting Hacker could easily get her a job because she is a young, black, gay woman. Later in the play, she is suddenly offered a good job despite never applying or interviewing for it. The payoff itself is clever, but the reaction to it felt oddly understated, almost as though either the audience or possibly even the direction missed the significance of the callback.

A particularly hilarious moment comes with the entrance of Sir David (William Chubb), appearing dressed almost like the Grim Reaper in a long black raincoat while carrying an umbrella. It is such a simple visual gag, yet it earned one of the biggest laughs of the evening. Sometimes comedy works best when it trusts straightforward staging and performance rather than overcomplicating things.

There were, however, several moments where jokes did not quite land. I could not always tell whether this was because the audience struggled to follow the references or because the pacing moved too quickly. There is an entire subplot about Sir Humphrey attempting to avoid taxes which, for a retired civil servant, I assume was intended to carry more weight than it ultimately did. Similarly, there are a few Brexit jokes that remain surprisingly non-committal. As a retrospective piece, the production could probably have gone much further, particularly considering the current political climate where neither side is happy about the result. There was also a joke involving sausages that seemed connected to the hostage speech, but the dialogue moved too quickly for the audience to fully catch it.

That said, when the comedy worked, it worked extremely well. There was even a mistake during the performance I attended, yet the actors recovered instantly and carried on without breaking the flow of the characters, which only highlighted the strength of the cast and their experience with this style of material.

I was less convinced by the ending, although that may well be faithful to the tone of the original series. Personally, I felt certain characters gave up too easily, and there seemed to be a far stronger conclusion waiting just beneath the surface that the play never embraced. Even so, the production succeeds as both a nostalgic continuation for fans and a sharply performed political comedy in its own right.

Photo Credit: Johan Persson