Erin Harrington reviews The King’s Speech, written by David Seidler, directed by Benjamin Kilby-Henson, at the Court Theatre, Saturday 20 September, 2025.
The King’s Speech is an ideal choice for the Court Theatre, as they look to tempt old and new patrons alike to their new city theatre. David Seidler’s play, an adaptation of his own Oscar-winning film, dramatizes the close relationship between Bertie (Prince Albert, Duke of York – later George VI) and Australian speech therapist Lionel Logue, who helped treat Bertie’s debilitating stammer. It whips us quickly from Bertie and Lionel’s first meeting in the mid-1920s, after Bertie gives a disastrous and embarrassing speech at Wembley Stadium, through to the death of George V in 1936, and the ascension and then abdication of Edward VIII. Political upheaval sits alongside personal dilemmas. Bertie struggles with the effects of an authoritarian and lonely upbringing, and, with wife Elizabeth, the unwanted prospect of becoming King. Lionel’s dreams of becoming an actor are thwarted, and his wife Myrtle hates London and is desperate to return to Perth. The play leads us towards the new King’s first wartime broadcast, declaring war with Nazi Germany, which also signals the new, global importance of mass media and a shift in the role of Empire.
Director Benjamin Kilby-Henson’s engaging production has worked hard to get the best out of Seidler’s script, in which dialogue tends more towards overt declaration than subtlety. Jason Hodzelmans gives an engrossing performance as the frustrated Bertie, his anger, dismay and fear bottled up within a twitching body that just won’t behave. Cameron Douglas is a warm and empathetic Lionel, his physical looseness a good foil to Bertie’s red-faced repression. The pair have great chemistry; their shared scenes are a highlight of the production. The sometimes fractious, sometimes easy nature of their relationship plays out in a push-pull across the stage, one that echoes the wider tensions between the physical and emotional isolation of royalty, which demands distance, and the intimacy of radio, which will bring the King into the houses of millions.
The pair are well supported. I particularly love the stillness, arch humour and strength of Amy Straker’s take on Princess (then Queen) Elizabeth. Emma Newborn gives a warm and heartfelt portrayal of Myrtle, eking much out of an underwritten character. Unseen, but present throughout the show, are speech therapist Tika Ormond and voice coach Cherie Moore, whose work ensures that the theatrical drama is underpinned by a sense of authenticity.
The production is as richly designed as you’d hope for a mainstage Court show, and makes good use of the new theatre’s layout, including its mezzanine seating, and proscenium and curtain. Daniel Williams’ set places us in a metaphorical attic space, one side regal and polished, worthy of a castle, and the other in a state of dreary near-collapse, representative of both the Depression-era setting and Bertie’s own papered-over anxieties. Large, empty gilded frames create space for projected surtitles that help establish setting, while standing in for the role that Bertie will need to take on. They also literally frame lineups of a strong and surprisingly young cast of supporting characters: Winston Churchill (James Kupa), Prince David / Edward VIII (Olly Humphries), Wallis Simpson (Hillary Moulder), Archbishop of Canterbury Cosmo Lang (Cameron Clayton), and George V and PM Neville Chamberlain (Matt Hudson).
Rachel Marlow’s lighting design is sometimes naturalistic, sometimes sculptural, occasionally flicking into deep reds that connect Bertie’s anxieties to the flashing ‘on air’ light of a broadcast studio. Matt Short’s immersive sound design is particularly rich, a highlight of the production. Pam Jones’ period costumes are, as always, impeccable. Great frocks aside, I particularly appreciate the way we start with Bertie vulnerable in his undergarments, and end in full regalia. There is a strong, coherent sense of directorial vision, all leading to a powerfully staged conclusion.
The programme’s production notes frame the play as a story about standing up to bullies – Bertie’s family, his royal advisors, and later Hitler, who is far more adept at manipulating the populist power of the airwaves. If we look at the present through the lens of the past, then this crowd-pleasing and at times nostalgic play’s programming is an interesting choice in this political moment, especially given recent events. You can see the production walking a line between entertainment and laughs, and gravitas.
At the level of interpretation, I’m not entirely convinced of that balance. I find that some moments of very camp characterisation and humour, which are very entertaining in their own right, offset rather than enhance the seriousness of Bertie’s personal predicament and growth, as well as the play’s very serious account of global crisis, including as the rise of fascism (not least in Edward VIII’s own political affinity for the Nazis). I’m clearly in the minority. This well-presented production receives a rapturous standing ovation, one of the most enthusiastic receptions of a Court show I can recall. I suspect those wanting to watch Bertie find his voice for themselves will need to book tickets quickly.
The King’s Speech plays at the Court Theatre until Saturday 25 October, 2025.
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