I’m Sorry, Prime Minister – Malvern Theatres

Writer: Jonathan Lynn

Co-Directors: Jonathan Lynn and Michael Gyngell

I’m Sorry, Prime Minister is the final chapter in Jonathan Lynn’s series Yes Minister that he co-wrote with Antony Jay in 1980, with its follow-up, Yes, Prime Minister, appearing in 1986. The original series focused on Jim Hacker as a cabinet minister before his promotion to Prime Minister as he attempted to navigate public life and private political debate. Always present and overseeing it all was his ever-loyal civil servant fixer, Sir Humphrey Appleby. This last chapter in the saga sees an ageing Jim Hacker in his new role in higher education at an Oxford College he founded, trying to function in a world that he doesn’t understand, full of people who no longer respect him. When things come to a head and, in his darkest hour, he calls on his right-hand man, Sir Humphrey to once again fix things; however, it seems difficult as Sir Humphrey is in a similar position as an elder statesman trying to survive life after the Civil Service.

The script, though written by one of the original authors, falls short in many ways, never quite reaching the heights of the previous instalments. This lacks the deep dives into the political world with its nuanced debates about political life and policy decisions, choosing instead to keep everything at surface level, attempting to cover just about everything from identity politics to economics to healthcare. But instead of focusing on one issue to discuss in more detail, the script moves swiftly to the next talking point, rather like ticking boxes on a checklist. The script has real potential to cover significant moments like the Brexit movement and the rise of accountability in politics, but much of this is skirted as a punch line for a laugh before moving along.

The cast is small, but they each perform their roles well; their interactions and time on stage together is enjoyable. Robert Kitson as Jim Hacker and Clive Francis as Sir Humphrey truly capture the relationship that the characters share: the overinflated ego and confidence of Hacker put into his place by the wit and charisma of Sir Humphrey. It is a pleasure to witness the familiar back-and-forth arguments that we enjoyed on television all those years ago. Princess Donnough plays Hacker’s care worker Sophie with just the right amount of devil’s advocate to give the discussions another layer of intrigue as she challenges the older men to think differently and confront the new ways of the world. William Chubb, as Sir David, brings with him his own comedic brand when he appears and is mistaken for the Grim Reaper come to claim the soul of our dear former Prime Minister.

It is Clive Francis’ performance as Sir Humphrey that is the true stand-out; he is phenomenal, truly embodying the mannerisms of the original character like his quiet, refined confidence and seemingly infinite knowledge. He has his moments of utter brilliance with long and rapid monologues explaining complex thoughts in a single breath that leave the characters and the audience equally stunned and amazed.

The set design by Lee Newby is basic and functional, with nothing about it screaming Oxford College or former Prime Minister, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t effective. It has its value, bringing some physical comedy into a scene, for example, in the use of a stairlift or a box full of unsold biographies among mountains of paperwork and poorly organised archives. However, since the entire performance takes place in this single space, it lacks a real focal point or strong recognisable detail to make it feel ministerial.

Overall, this performance is enjoyable with lots of laughs and nostalgia for the original characters and shows. It has its moments of comedy and lively political debate, and even if it can’t quite live up to the initial series, it still serves as a good send-off for a British Classic and former Prime Minister.

Runs until 1 August 2026