Music and Book: Lisa Gaye Wright
Majenta, a demonic combination of Margo Leadbetter and Hyacinth Bucket, is preparing for a Botox party for her frenemies, influencer/Made in Chelsea-esque star Sophia and childhood-pal-who-is-also-somehow-rich-in-a-way-that’s-never-explained Tamsin. What follows are two endless and seemingly plotless hours of “farce”, a handful of songs, and a smattering of good performances.
The greatest offender of the play is the script, book and lyrics. This musical doesn’t quite know what it wants to be: many of the songs would be better suited to a satirical revue, as there are surprisingly few which could only be sung by the characters themselves. The latter are the strongest, including Majenta and Tamsin’s sing-off, and Majenta’s enjoyable patter song about her non-attending guests. Pacing issues further diminish the play’s status as “musical”, as there are 15- minute stretches with no songs before we are battered over the head with three in a row.
The jokes come thick and fast—the only problem is they are exactly the same jokes: Sophia ((Monika Brodowska) is thick, Tamsin (Terri Spencer) has an annoying laugh, and Majenta (Nick Duncombe) is fat, the three character tropes that are on repeat for two hours with very little plot to hang them on. There is a good half-hour of comedy buried in amongst all of these but all jokes begin to blur into one and each character’s single trait wears thin: Tamsin’s laugh is funny the first time, not the forty-fifth.
There is also a mismatch in terms of what the production is satirising: its characters seem to have come from different ages (Sophia a modern day influencer, Tamsin a 2012 Made in Essex girl, Majenta a 70s light entertainment holdover) so fail to satirise anything in particular. Towards the end, we also get the playwright’s frustrations with “wokeness” in a perfectly acceptable song, but it makes no sense for Majenta to sing it about her fellow characters as they are not woke in the least. And there’s a mannequin posing as a disabled woman, the reason for which is never referred to fully in the piece: why? The mismatch between satire, character and song is so overwhelming that it fundamentally undermines the show.
The bright spots here are from the three actors, all of whom are in good voice and do their best with their underwritten characters. Dunscombe is undoubtedly the star, having the best comic timing, an underused but powerful voice, and a very slightly developed character. Brodowska also gets some strong laughs, but is too overwhelmingly dippy (think a cross between Barbie and Father Dougal, but worse). Spencer does her best with what she’s given but has been overdirected, a problem across the show.
Far too caricature-y and overwhelmingly big, the direction moves beyond realism or camp into losing all comic timing and rhythm through an excess of character. We have no time to absorb the jokes or songs as they are quickly followed by an irritating laugh or hair-pull, and when some of your funniest moments are happening in the back of songs, give us a chance to notice them!
The Real Housewives of Codswallop aims to be a musical satire, led by and focusing on the lives of women: an aim which should be applauded. Unfortunately, the strong hour-long show it could’ve been is buried under a leaden running time, overwhelming and distracting performances, weird pacing, out-of-place songs, no existing plot and a slightly bitter and mean-spirited edge. Although there are some good gags, a couple of decent songs and one truly excellent comedy musical performance, these Real Housewives are unlikely to get a second series.
Runs until the 2 February 2023
