Review: SPRINGWOOD at Hampstead Theatre

With the spectre of Nazism on the rise in Europe and the looming prospect of another war with Germany, the British government hopes to charm the elder statesman of American politics into openly declaring sides, but such matters are rarely simple. Roosevelt knows the Royal visit could potentially win, or more likely alienate his fellow citizens. In particular, those who still feel snubbed by Edward VIII's forced abdication due to his love for American divorcee Wallis Simpson. The visit therefore assumes a more low key tone, but that doesn't guarantee it will pass off without incident.

Played on a thrust stage configuration with the audience on three sides, the cast move tables, chairs, beds and trays into position for each scene as awkward English reserve butts-up against American pragmatism. Eleanor Roosevelt (Jemma Redgrave) has returned to the house to officiate alongside FDR's straight talking mother Sara (Eileen Nicholas) who we learn, owns the property. Franklin (Robert Lindsay) meanwhile leans on the assistance of secretary and former mistress Missy (Teresa Banham) and current mistress Daisy (Rachel Pickup) to distract him from the limitations of his mobility which was widely attributed to a paralytic illness (perhaps polio) acquired in 1921 and which for the remainder of his life, necessitated the use of a wheelchair.

Meanwhile the Royals, stammering Bertie (Andrew Havill) and sunburned Elizabeth (Rebecca Night) accompanied by their officious flunky Cameron (John Mackay) fret over whether the cartoons on a bedroom wall depicting Royal Navy seamen as monkeys, together with the serving of hotdogs at a picnic, are deliberately intended to mock and cause offence, or worse, humiliate the young couple who are still adjusting to their new roles and are missing daughters Lilibet and Margaret back home in England. The two nations separated by a common language, one in decline and the other in the ascendancy, need to build bridges, but will the clash of old and new world cultures prove insurmountable?

The premise presents a wholly delicious scenario for cultural misunderstandings as both sides attempt to break down barriers and find common ground. However, for all its potential, Richard Nelson's play, which he directs himself (in the absence of Stanley Tucci who had to withdraw due to scheduling conflicts) never quite lifts-off. There is a delightfully twee meandering feel to proceedings which cry out for moments of oomph. Even the phenomenally awkward scenario which results from the King walking in on FDR and Daisy (presumably mid-caress) is hidden from us. It is only when the incident becomes the subject of abject humiliation for Eleanor that we feel included as voyeurs. She has unleashed a tirade of fury at FDR in the house which everyone repeatedly notes has very thin walls, only to realise she has been observed and every word overheard by the unassuming monarch who has been nursing a drink in the dark. The hot dog moment over which there has been much fretting, is finally relayed via off-stage sound. It is gently and statically observed by those members of the SPRINGWOOD household who go about their business out of public view. It neatly summarises the fact that upstairs and downstairs situations have existed and continue to exist everywhere, even in the most democratic leaning households, in the most democracy-espousing nation of all.

SPRINGWOOD plays 2 hours 10 mins and continues at Hampstead Theatre until 25th July.

Springwood Tickets