No common ground: Pandora Clifford’s Mags and Liz Garland’s Liz in Handbagged at the SJT. Picture: Tony Bartholomew
THIRTY six years since her resignation and 13 since she died at the Ritz Hotel, Margaret Thatcher still drew boos and derision from the SJT audience – in a town that only turned red from decades of Tory MPs in 2024.
There was a smattering of cheers too, drawing more boos from the derisive naysayers for a Westminster titan that remains as divisive as ever in an age of increasingly short-lived minnows in Downing Street.
Moira Buffini’s 2013 play – so full of wit, brio and intelligence – is neither biased nor one-sided in its depiction of Mrs T, instead letting her speak, vehemently, vigorously, and even vituperatively, for herself over her 11 years as the UK’s first female Prime Minister. She stands and – seemingly in many eyes and ears on press night – falls by her words.
Words that were fired off in the direction of the other dominant female presence of the British 20th century, Queen Elizabeth II, in their weekly meetings at Buckingham Palace and beyond.
Director Hannah Tyrrell-Pinder in the rehearsal room with Handbagged cast member Simon Darwen. Picture: Tony Bartholomew
Revived by the Stephen Joseph Theatre under the directorship of Hannah Tyrrell-Pinder (whose father, Andrew Pinder, received a CBE for his services to Tony Blair’s Labour government), Handbagged is built on the classic political structure of conflict where people talk but don’t engage in conversation.
Born within six months of each other but poles and circumstances apart, albeit that both had to face a patriarchal world, the PM and HM The Queen serve as a double act, or, to be precise, a double double act, on account of Buffini doubling the combat between a younger Mags (Pandora Clifford) and Liz (Liz Garland), from the weekly audiences, and an older T (Alexandra Mathie, wig too dark) and Q (Meriel Scholfield).
Observing their younger selves, they each say equally quizzically, “I never said that”, as if they have become unreliable witnesses to their earlier sentiments and assertions.
That said, everything Buffini writes of their awkward conflabs behind closed doors can only be conjecture to complement words from public utterances and Mrs Thatcher’s Downing Street Years memoirs.
Alexandra Mathie’s T: Doubling down on her political philosophies in old age in Handbagged. Picture: Tony Bartholomew
Grim reading: Pandora Clifford’s Mags flicking through the Sunday paper headlines in Handbagged. Picture: Tony Bartholomew
Yet she writes with such cultural savvy, comedic conviction, assiduous detail, such a grasp of her satirical subject, that she brings to mind the mischief-making of political heavyweights The Thick Of It , House Of Cards or Yes, Prime Minister. It feels all the more truthful for the assured voice of Buffini.
A third double act is at play: our convivial hosts Actor One (Deven Modha) and Actor 2 (Simon Darwen), who spar over who should play Labour Leader Neil “Kinnockio” Kinnock, while allocating themselves such support acts as Denis Thatcher, Prince Philip (only one irascible line), Gerry Adams, Geoffrey Howe, Ronald Reagan, Rupert Murdoch and Michael Heseltine (all Darwen), and Kenneth Kaunda, Nancy Reagan, Michael Shea, Kenneth Clarke, a Palace footman and protestor (all Modha, while refusing to play Enoch Powell).
Serving as Greek chorus too, both challenge Mrs Thatcher’s tendency to skip over her most controversial policies, only to be forced to confront them anew. Throughout their mimicry of accent and mannerism is spot on.
Multi-rolling Actor I (Deven Modha), left, and Actor 2 (Simon Darwen) playing First Lady Nancy Reagan and President Ronald Reagan in Handbagged. Picture: Tony Bartholomew
Deven Modha’s No Poll Tax protestor in Handbagged. Picture: Tony Bartholomew
On the surface, you could be inclined to decide that everyone loves the Queen (especially in Garland and Scholfield’s superb caricatures), whereas Maggie, whether younger or older, remains the humourless villainess of the piece in Clifford and Mathie’s characterisation. Buffini’s writing is far too bright for that, however, all while making Mrs T funny on occasion through jokes at her expense when breaking through that humour dead zone.
Buffin seeks the humanity in both women. Margaret Thatcher is given every chance to state, re-state and double down on political philosophies, and we see her change, as her voice does, ironically adopting “we” when she becomes more “I” and isolated as she loses her allies. Always and forever, her favourite word is No. No. No, until no more.
The Queen’s Christmas Day addresses are the cornerstone of her portrayal: one of compassion, a call for kindness, and in essence Socialist principles from the richest woman in the land. Through the years, PM and HM talk but never bond, for all that time and tea consumption together, never finding common ground.
Out of step? Liz Garland’s Liz dancing with Simon Darwen’s Denis Thatcher and Pandora Clifford’s Mags doing likewise with Deven Modha’s Kenneth Kaunda in Handbagged. Picture: Tony Bartholomew
All six performances are top notch, matched by Pinder’s astute direction, using the Round as a battlefield, where she keeps moving the combatants to emphasise the shifting tectonic plates of the relationship.
Katie Scott’s design is circular too, giving the sense of a merry-go-round thanks in part to Aiden Crawford’s movement direction. A museum shelf of named props and costumes on the stage rim works wonderfully well too for speed of character changes before your very eyes.
As the years tick by since the passing of both protagonists, Handbagged becomes an ever better play, one where Buffini’s skill in weaving her own mischievous political commentary into her modern-day comedy of manners is delivered with witheringly witty aplomb. Bag a ticket pronto.
Handbagged, Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough, until August 29. Box office: 01723 370541 or sjt.uk.com.
Pandora Clifford’s Mags, Liz Garland’s Liz, Meriel Scholfield’s Q and Alexandra Mathie’s T expressing differing opinions in Handbagged. Picture: Tony Bartholomew
Everything stops for tea: Meriel Scholfied’s Q raises a cup and humorous quips aplenty in Handbagged. Picture: Tony Bartholomew
