Stage: Perchance to dream

The Prince
by Abigail Thorn
dir Natasha Rickman
with Abigail Thorn, Joni Ayton-Kent, Mary Malone, Tianna Arnold, Che Walker, Corey Montague-Sholay, Richard Rees, Tyler Luke Cunningham
dramaturg Donnacadh O'Briain
sound design/composer Rodent
lighting Martha Godfrey
costumes Rebecca Cartwright, Lulu Tam
Southwark Playhouse • 15.Sep-8.Oct

Ayton-Kent and Malone

More than just a play, The Prince is a fiendishly clever meta-theatre experience that makes the audience part of the story. We may be observing the show, but we're also watching each other while grappling with our own expectations and preconceptions. Playfully riffing on Shakespeare, actor-writer Abigail Thorn takes us on a deep dive into identity, using comedy and drama to wrestle with issues of family, culture, gender and sexuality. Her approach is so fresh that it can't help but take the breath away.

It opens on Henry IV Part 1, as the King (Walker) rallies his troops, wishing that his son Hal (Montague-Sholay) was a more manly leader like Hotspur (Thorn). The scene is interrupted by perplexed modern-day interloper Jen (Malone), who meets fellow outsider Sam (Ayton-Kent) and discovers that they are trapped in some sort of Shakespearean theatre dimension. As they seek a way out, they can't help but interact with actors who don't realise they're performing a play. For Jen, it's clear that these characters are trapped by what others want them to be: Hal can't admit that he's gay and Hotspur hasn't realised that she's trans.

Thorn and Cunningham

The way this spirals out of control is hilarious, echoing Tom Stoppard's witty spin on Hamlet in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, but with a sci-fi style reality-bending twist. Indeed, Thorn also takes a knowing dip into Hamlet in the second act, turning a famous soliloquy into a powerful rumination on the tension between how we see ourselves and how others see us. So while Hotspur's journey to self-acceptance is the central focus of the story, each of the surrounding characters is also confronted by their own identities and how they push their expectations on others.

While the stage design is a fairly simple variation on a chess board, director Natasha Rickman has several surprises up her sleeve as the cast members keep everything in motion, with inventive sound, lighting and costumes that literally add layers of meaning. This is also a show that is essential to set in the round, with the audience providing society's gaze onto the characters, echoed in Jen and Sam's modern-day interventions. There are also several jolting moments that shatter barriers between viewers and performers.

Malone and Thorn

Each actor brings out complexities along the way, pulling us deeper into the story's surprising gyrations. Nuances in the performances are often revelatory, exposing earthy undercurrents while maintaining a involving sense of humour that often merrily tips into the absurd. Thorn's script is packed with masterful wordplay, especially as it pokes fun at Shakespearean dialect. This is a hugely entertaining show that keeps us laughing while provoking us to think in new ways about bigger themes. It's exhilarating theatre that deserves to run and run.

Montague-Sholay and Walker

Ayton-Kent, Cunningham and Thorn

photos by Mark Senior • 19.Sep.22