Sovereign – York Theatre Royal

Writer: C.J. Sansom

Adapter: Mike Kenny

Co-Directors: Juliet Forster, Mingyu Lin, John R. Wilkinson

It may be stating the obvious to say that York is full of remarkable historical buildings, but slightly less obvious to point out their effectiveness for theatre. At one time the Mystery Plays were staged against the backdrop of St. Mary’s Abbey; now the Theatre Royal moves next door to the former Abbot’s House, the King’s Manor, a singularly appropriate setting for Mike Kenny’s adaptation of C.J. Sansom’s Sovereign.

Singularly appropriate because at least some of the events in the novel took place at that very spot. In 1541 Henry VIII visited York, apparently for a secret meeting with King James V of Scotland (which never happened), but also as a show of strength after the Pilgrimage of Grace had been cruelly put down five years before. Mike Kenny vividly conjures up a picture of York as unreconstructed Catholic territory with never a good word for King Henry – or any southerners.

Into this comes Matthew Sheldrake, lawyer and part-time investigator of the murkier corners of Tudor England, and his assistant, Jack Barak, to effect the transfer of a prisoner, Edward Broderick, but a sudden death leads him into investigations into who is keeping what secret. Subject to mockery from the King and opposition on all sides, he doggedly pursues his target.

But oddly this is not the main interest. This is a community production – and a totally wonderful use of a cast and choir of hundreds and a superbly evocative medieval space. The stage stretches along a block of buildings with doors at frequent intervals (even a first floor window gets deployed) and, for much of the time, is alive with activity at all points. A mighty tree occupies centre stage, behind it the stairs and balcony for Henry to appear and upstage left is a gallows where Robert Aske of the Pilgrimage of Grace still hangs. Sitting on the front row, you feel like a Wimbledon crowd following the action, but the involvement is tremendous. Forster, Lin and Wilkinson revel in the large numbers, creating horses and a bear and, above all, relishing the whole company dancing in for what seems like forever to welcome the King.

The destruction of the ancient Mystery Plays and their supplanting by the great King Henry at the beginning frees up a large chorus of Women of York to comment on the action from a viewpoint poised between Tudor and modern.

Dominic Sales’ music is highly effective, instrumental or sung by the large choir. Mike Kenny’s adaptation is economical except for moments of historical exposition, rhymes for the chorus, runs smoothly between the ancient and modern and gets comic effect from 21st century phrases: “He’s bricking it!”. His picking out of individual chorus members works beautifully.

And what can you say about the 100-plus people who appeared on stage? The intricacy of timing is a marvel, but there are also plenty of strong individual performances: the supercilious Lady Rochford (Emma Blackstone) and the ice-cold Jennet Marlin (Katie Leckey), the menacing and bombastic Maleverer (Maurice Crichton), the wittering Simon Craike (Liam Godfrey), Fulke Radwinter, the jailer enjoying his sadistic opportunities (Joe Hopper) and many more.

The only problem lies with the professionals – and it is not their fault. Shardlake relies on deduction, on thinking things through – not easy to convey theatrically, especially in a production that fills the stage with inspired action. Fergus Rattigan is intense, living on his nerves as Shardlake, Sam Thorpe-Spinks cheerfully loyal as Jack, but it’s difficult for them to command our full attention. But it’s a wonderful spectacle!

Runs until 30th July 2023