ANNE BOLEYN by Howard Brenton

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Anne Boleyn is widely known as the woman who charmed a king and lost her head for it. Howard Brenton’s eponymous play, now playing at The Loft Theatre, shows her to have been far more than a pretty wife. She was a serious political player in an age when religion and politics were inseparable. Without her there might have been no Church of England, no Civil War, no King James Bible. We might even still be a Catholic country.

Such claims hinge on the character of Anne, here played with consummate skill by Julia Findlay. She is too intelligent, too energetic, and too committed to her faith to play the docile child-bearing wife she was supposed to be. She was the power behind the throne, who ultimately persuaded the king (Mark Roberts) of his right to challenge the authority of the Pope.

 The theme of the play is drawn out by its time-shifting involvement of King James I (Pete Meredith), a vulgar, boozy, cross-dressing clown with a mind as sharp as a razor. He discovers Anne’s own copy of William Tyndale’s translation of the Bible in an old chest of clothes worn by her mother and later adopted by him. Such a book is a curiosity now, but then it set the world on fire. 

 The Loft bring a big cast to the stage, directed with a fine attention to detail by Tara Lacey. All the great characters are there, but not quite as we know them. Dave Crossfield’s Thomas Cromwell, for example, is a vicious, cold manipulator whom you’d be wise to steer clear of. 

 This is a superb production, and a thrilling tale, with performances that rise to the occasion at every level. 

*Excerpts of full review*

 The Loft has triumphed again. Not surprisingly, as before this play, Anne Boleyn, they have staged a run of productions - and now nearly into their centenary - which verge on, if not equal, many on the professional stage. Not just their quality, but their consistency, arouses endless admiration. 

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 This Henry VIII has a profound affection for Julia Findlay’s mousy, beautifully engaging and attractive Anne. Who could be surprised? She wins us from the start, when she appears with the mysterious (or perhaps marginally obvious) bag. And she never loses us. 

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The costumes were absolutely stunning (a threesome: Helen Brady, Helen Jellicoe, Alyson Morris). Even the male servants were dazzlingly dressed, occasionally necessitating a quick change. And three musicians, again a smart change as they swapped Tudor for Stuart. Mark Roberts’ Henry not overdressed – but then from portraits he wasn’t always so.

 Anne frequently appearing in a ravishing near-scarlet, as if to suggest her impending end. James an absolute flurry of (mainly, almost Puritanical), black: but not without silver - bejewelled, earringed - an alluring design to offset his feyer moments.

Wolsey – and indeed the clutch of bishops, led by grumpy Dean (actually Bishop) Lancelot Andrewes – all sunk into blazing scarlet, And Thomas Cromwell’s garb seemingly evolving by stages from plain (but never humble) clerk’s undergraduate-like attire into his own expanding red tinges to indicate his advance in favour.

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The fact that Julia Findlay’s delicious, indeed wondrously touching Anne is caught up in religious intrigue as much as fatal court plotting makes Brenton’s inventive, sinuous, powerfully original text stand out from so many of the other Henry VIII/Anne Boleyn plays and films. He offers a new take and wholly fresh emphasis on an old story and is all the more valuable for That.

That the Loft manage, in depth, to do such justice to not just the general outline and flow but so many minute and subtle details is itself a tribute to a great company. Director Tara L. Lacey’s achievement with this – it was she who suggested this bracing play in the first place and made a very acceptable job of it - was palpably a coup, indeed a success of the highest attainment. How gratifying that standards at the Loft remain undimmed.