
Lara Stafford’s Charlotte Brontë, the narrator spinning her yarn in Sarah Gordon’s Underdog: The Other Other Brontë. Picture: John Saunders
YORKSHIRE’S most famous yet still mysterious sisters, the literary Brontës of Haworth, turn out to be as much about scrapping as scribbling in Sarah Gordon’s irreverent, coruscatingly honest yet unreliable witness of a play, here making its York debut after its 2024 premiere in a National Theatre-Northern Stage co-production.
We’ve had teenage Kate Bush’s chart-topping Wuthering Heights, Lip Service’s comedic spoof Withering Looks and even an uncredited Sinead O’Connor walking the moors as Emily Bronte in a hooded cloak to book-end Peter Kosminsky’s 1992 film adaptation of Wuthering Heights, the one starring Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche.
Above all, we have had and still have the Brontë books, books that broke their Victorian shackles to speak for themselves, beyond us knowing that the daughters of the Irish-born parson of Haworth, out on the wily, windy West Riding moors, all died all too young, along with their wastrel artist-poet brother Branwell, the first to exit stage left in a white nightgown.

Jess Murray’s Emily, right, and Millie Rhodes’s Anne: The ‘other’ Brontë and the ‘other other’ Brontë in Settlement Players’ Underdog: The Other Other Brontë. Picture: John Saunders
Just as Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss mash up history with punk modern sensibilities in enabling Henry VIII’s wives to give their side of the story in a competitive concert to be head girl in Six The Musical, so Gordon gives licence to Charlotte, Emily and Anne to do likewise in Underdog’s sisterly rivalries and jealousies and battles with the male-dominated Victorian publishing world of London, 17 hours away by horse and carriage.
As in Six, this introduces competition – flawed sisters doing it to themselves, rather than for themselves – but not on equal terms because Lara Stafford’s Charlotte is designated the role of narrator. Consequently, she tends to dominate, when ostensibly the title suggests the focus should be on the “other other Brontë”, Millie Rhodes’s sweet-natured Anne, “the one who died,” as Anne puts it.
That said, Gordon counters the narrator’s status by showing the ambitious, ruthless, envious Charlotte in anything but the best light, full of withering slights and maternally over-protective of Anne in particular, refusing permission for a posthumous re-print of The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall (and editing Emily’s poems for publication after her death to boot).

Underdog: The Other Other Brontë director Claire Morley. Picture: Tom Barker
Jess Murray’s Emily is an undiluted firebrand, with a temper and potty mouth, but somewhat underwritten by comparison with Anne and especially Charlotte.
Nick Patrick Jones’s Branwell can be heard shouting at his father in the background and in his infrequent appearances he feels like a ghost in this play, even before he is consigned to that status.
Alongside Jones, Jon Cook, Pamela Gourley and Maggie Smales are on multi-rolling duty, Smales taking the honours with her spoilt child, coconut-clip-clopping carriage driver and biographer Elizabeth Gaskell.

Claire Morley’s witty, wily and waspish production is played out with fiery pace and passion on Richard Hampton’s three-sided set of suspended wheat sheafs, page after page torn from books, three boxes bedecked in yet more words and the backdrop of a frame filled with flowers.
At its base is a sign reading “Liar” that Stafford’s Charlotte then places around the neck of Rhodes’s Anne, and yet not everything that Charlotte says can be taken as the truth. Literary licence, maybe; playwright’s impish, knowing humour, certainly.
The sisters are even more fun company than in Lip Service’s Withering Looks, full of surprises, sassy putdowns (not least of Jane Austen’s face being on a bank note) and sisterly interplay, played out to a soundtrack of Self Esteem, Charlie XCX and Billie Eilish snippets. It could have been deeper, it could have been darker, but that is the one story that has been told before.

Sisterly rivalries and jealousies in Sarah Gordon’s Underdog: The Other Other Brontë, as played out by Lara Stafford’s Charlotte, right, and Millie Rhodes’s Anne. Picture: John Saunders
On reflection, all the Brontë sisters can be seen as the underdog of the title, sisters with blisters, but fighting against cramped writing conditions, the Yorkshire chill that did for their health, and the inequality and cold shoulder of the book world’s stuffed shirts. The “other” here is as much the other side of their story as a desire to put Anne in the spotlight.
“Young women judge older women more harshly than anybody else…they are conditioned to,” says the spiky Charlotte, in one of her jibes delivered so deliciously by Stafford, whose outstanding performance is befitting of a professional stage.
York Settlement Community Players present Underdog: The Other Other Brontë, Theatre@41, Monkgate, York, until Saturday, 7.30pm plus 2.30pm Saturday matinee. Box office: tickets.41monkgate.co.uk.

Lara Stafford’s exasperated Charlotte holds her head in her hands as she listens to Maggie Smales’s over-zealous biographer, Elizabeth Gaskell, in the closing chapter of Underdog: The Other Other Brontë. Millie Rhodes’s Anne, back, left, and Jess Murray’s Emily look bemused. Picture: John Saunders
