Lily Wallen sees things fall apart in suburbia
I’ve spent some of the worst two hours of my life in a theatre. Up in the gods, knees pressed to chest, water bottle out of reach to fix the parch caused by pre-show wine. Watching The Lion King and wanting to be mauled to death.
Abigail’s Party at The Royal Exchange, on the other hand, feels nothing like an exercise in penance. Chronicling the descent of a neighbourhood drinks party from the awkward to the polygamous, this tale of ‘70s suburbia picks apart how maddening the banality of domestic life can be.
The role of Beverly was first brought to life by the punchy Alison Steadman, the play written in the late ‘70s by her then-husband, Mike Leigh. Few capture the subtleties of middle England’s gossiping, ever-so-slightly unglued female archetype quite like Steadman - those women who hold court in their small communities with an almost tyrannical edge. Kym Marsh brings exactly that to Beverly.
A social climbing ‘70s housewife - as insecure as she is bat-winged fabulous - Beverly is a perennial character for anyone who’s ever lived within the throes of a gossiping small town; today we’d call her a hun and she’d be admin of the community Facebook page.
All int she, and intit, Marsh’s northern drawl delivers Bev’s dialogue exactly as I imagine Leigh intended, weightier and more authoritative than anyone else in the room, especially her cuckold-adjacent husband Laurence. Undermining the qualms, embarrassment and quiet judgments of her guests through the protracted overuse of names - “Don't you think, Tone?” - Marsh brings a party despot’s energy to Beverly, who commands the soiree that makes up the entirety of the production.
Particularly at Beverly’s mercy are Tony and Susan; ‘Tone’ one half of the newlywed couple next door and target of Bev’s wandering eye, and Susan a divorced mother to the play’s namesake hosting the offstage party down the road, and subject to Bev’s furrowed brow, tilted head and largely disingenuous sympathies.
From the confines of a three-piece-suite the play explores themes of suburban disquiet and pass-ag class anxiety situated beautifully in the round which gives you the feeling of watching your mum’s friend become progressively more manic at the house down the road.
We’ve all been at a do that’s gone south, but rarely is it as enjoyable to watch as Abigail’s Party. Two hours of my life very well spent.
Abigail’s Party is on at The Royal Exchange until 24 May.
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