POSH: Review

*Spoiler Alert* If you haven’t seen Posh at the Duke of York’s Theatre, just off Trafalgar Square, then what the heck are you doing reading this?

Having read what feels like tonnes of stuff about the satire of Posh and the burgeoning (crucially female) talent that is Laura Wade, I had been meaning to go see it for months. And finally, on a very rainy weeknight that’s exactly what I did. Oh and their website says Sold Out but we easily got tickets from tkts on the day and they were damn good seats.

What struck me first and foremost was that the audience this play really should be reaching weren’t in the theatre (but my guess is the people who voted the Bullingdon Club alumni into government were…) and this was only compounded by the fact that my friend and I seemed to be laughing for different reasons to those all around us. For example, the Acapella singing was so on the money, just about bang on trend, but while we were laughing at the contrapuntal song choices (the Labyrinth number was particularly good) everyone else just seemed to appreciate their talent. This begs the question, is this gimmick funnier when you’ve danced in a nightclub to those songs? And that’s using the term ‘danced’ very loosely indeed…

Moving swiftly on! Wade slaps you in the face with an utterly amazing opening (which I don’t want to ruin for you) but I do feel like I should warn you that this is a play of 2 very different halves. Initially we’re led along a merry song and dance by these absurd rogues, but by the end we’re faced with something deeply unsettling. I have to say, the sexual politics of Posh are just bonkers; both of the two relatively minor female characters are subject to sexual abuse/assault, but there seemed to be a sense that as it was written by a woman that made it ok? This half-formed thought will germinate into a blog of its own someday soon. 

As well as this, and the violence, there’s a lot of intense swearing throughout, which I thought added to the realism (they are meant to be teenagers after all). However it was clearly unexpected by many, and probably why the older couple sitting next to me didn’t come back to their seats after the interval. That said there were some magnificent speeches which made me desperate to get my hands on the script (lamenting it’s predominantly male cast somewhat) but it was a little clunky when trying to turn the mirror on the audience – who apparently think they’re great ‘just because they read a big paper, eat asparagus and pretend not to be racist’.

Nevertheless Wade has created something surprisingly funny, and its one-room setting succeeds in creating a heady sense of boozy confinement, while staving off any claustrophobic boredom with the timely appearance of the 18th Century Lord Ryott (I’m still not quite sure how that piece of theatrical trickery was done).

So undeniably enjoyable then but this is at its heart a piece of satire, and in considering its subject matter and its timeliness the key thought Posh provokes is: Do I feel depressed for having seen it? Well as a politically-engaged lefty it told me nothing I didn’t know (or thought I knew) already, so perhaps the more pertinent question is: have they seen it..?

 

Whether you’re a former member of the Bullingdon Club or not, I heartily recommend Posh, just don’t come out feeling too downhearted!