Review: Mrs. President (Charing Cross Theatre)

Review by Daz Gale

⭐️⭐️

You know how the classic phrase goes - plays about Mary Todd Lincoln are like buses. You wait years for one to open in London, only for two to open at once. Currently, if you turn left at Charing Cross Station, you will find yourself at the critically acclaimed Broadway transfer of Oh, Mary!, but if you fancy something a bit different, you could always turn right to the cosy Charing Cross Theatre for Mrs. President, a play about… well, you get the idea. Returning in a re-imagined production following a debut outing last year, would Mrs. President win the race for the best play about Mary Todd Lincoln within 5 minutes of Charing Cross station (surely a future category at the Olivier awards), or would the whole experience end up matching another harrowing night at the theatre attended by Mrs Lincoln?

If you are unaware of who Mary Todd Lincoln was, you’re not alone. I’m sure many attending will be unaware of her story, as American history stretching to former First Ladies isn’t really taught in English schools. Nevertheless, she was the wife of President Abraham Lincoln, the 16th President of the United States from 1861, whose Presidency came to an abrupt end when he was assassinated in the theatre in 1865. Mrs. President shifts the narrative to his wife, a woman who struggled with her grief and was legally declared insane by her son. This play explores her struggle as she turns to the world’s first celebrity photographer, Mathew Brady, in an attempt to help reclaim her story. Through a series of visits, their collaboration soon becomes more of a battle as they argue for authorship, truth and control.

Written by John Ransom Phillips, Mrs. President was first staged in London last January, at the very same theatre it plays today. However, this version has been described as a re-imagined take on the story. Having not seen the play last year. I can’t compare and contrast the two productions, though I do note that one of my colleagues awarded the show two stars in her original review last year. While I applaud the team for continuing to revise and rework the show even after last year’s run, the fact I have reached the same conclusion suggests there is still much work to be done.

The main problem comes from the writing itself, proving underwritten and messy at times with clumsy, clunky and heavy-handed dialogue and a tone that shifts unnaturally. Attempting to shine the spotlight on Mary Todd Lincoln rather than leaving her in the shadow of her husband is an admirable idea and one that is rich with possibilities, but ultimately Mrs. President does her a disservice by never quite diving deep enough into the character and the rather serious themes of grief and mental health. Instead, we are left asking more questions than when the show began.

The concept of having Mary Todd Lincoln posing for photographs severely limits the story, with a static setting proving uninteresting and an ultimate concept that is just too thin to explore in detail. Both Lincoln and the photographer, Mathew Brady, feel underwritten, with brief statements about the latter’s health coming and going with seemingly no consequence. Mary suddenly swooping into some of Brady’s past photographs as they come to life ironically feels underdeveloped and could have definitely used more time in a dark room to ensure they were in the best possible shape by the time they were unveiled to the public. This is where Mrs. President falters, despite some decent elements elsewhere. The play also suffers from a severe lack of subtlety, with one line linking President Lincoln’s assassination to Brady’s line of work (“I shot him”) eliciting groans from multiple members of the audience - not the reaction I expect they were aiming for when that clunker was inserted.

Bronagh Lagan’s direction attempts to make sense of the problematic writing and shows moments of brilliance in itself, but is ultimately limited by the inconsistencies and underdeveloped nature of the story. What does impress, however, is the striking set design by Anna Kelsey. Visually stylish, it is creatively used, coming alive throughout the play with stunning effects. The immediate reveal of Brady and the way Mary’s fantasies and nightmares are played out on stage lift the material substantially, but ultimately the strengths of this feel wasted on material never quite reaching the same heights the design aspects promise.

Keala Settle takes a break from her usual roles in musicals to deliver an impressively dramatic performance, full of emotion and vulnerability. Settle is an accomplished actor and manages a solid turn as Mary Todd Lincoln, but even her best abilities can’t cover up the problems in the source material. Given Settle’s now iconic role in The Greatest Showman, a reference to P.T Barnum does raise a slight smile, whether that is new to this production or purely coincidental. Hal Fowler is the other half of this two-hander in the underwritten but formidable Mathew Brady. His chemistry with Settle ensures a thrilling dynamic that changes as the balance of power moves back and forth, with Fowler proving dominant and formidable at times.

There are several reasons to be impressed with Mrs. President, namely its impressive design and fantastic cast led by a mesmerising turn from Keala Settle. However, nothing can mask the poor nature of the book, with Phillips' writing veering all over the place and never quite thrilling as it should. Despite the relatively breezy 85-minute runtime, the play plods along with time going slowly, making it feel far longer than it actually is. There is a good show in Mrs. President somewhere, but it isn’t there yet. A dramaturg would do wonders with maximising the potential of the play and giving Mary Todd Lincoln the narrative she deserves. In its current form, however, you’d be better off turning the other way and experiencing Oh, Mary! Instead.

Mrs. President plays at Charing Cross Theatre until 8th March. Get tickets from £15 at https://allthatdazzles.londontheatredirect.com/play/mrs-president-tickets

Photos by Pamela Raith