
The present government aside, there’s been a spate of political farces recently: the decidedly bland Coalition, Margaret Thatcher Queen of Soho (more of a pastiche, admittedly), and the underwhelming The Duck House. If I’m honest, I’m not exactly sure what The Upstanding Member contributes to this saturated market.
Gregory Skulnick’s piece sees an unnamed politician (to keep this party neutral I suppose – “they’re all as bad as each other” etc. etc.) desperately clinging onto his reputation by ordering his quivering lawyer to put out a super-injunction on his impregnated prostitute. Meanwhile, his wife is no better, arranging dodgy lobbying deals with an undercover gutter reporter, while two glorified thieves, nay, ‘Private Investigators’ peer on. There’s plenty of potential here for incisive wit and commentary on society perhaps, but super-injunctions? Second homes? Lobbying? This all feels very 2009. So I find myself wearily asking: why retell it now?
And who exactly is The Upstanding Member for? Looking around the Old Red Lion Theatre’s intimate space I recognised two people who I knew to be politically active. I assumed many others who made up the audience were also. Perhaps The Upstanding Member is an in-joke, appealing to the Westminster Bubble rather than trying to reach others with a fresh political message. Yet, if so, surely audiences will see that whilst characters are fun, or funny, or easy to hate, they’re also all quite one-dimensional: the disgraced politician, the parasitic journo, and so on. Can’t there be more to successful political farce than lots of characters shouting at each other and knocking on doors? The Thick of It, that bastion of the genre by which all others measure up, manages it.
The performances themselves are perfectly fine: Stephen Omer, all grimacing and sickly, is well-tuned as the sleazebag MP, and Carole Street has clearly spent time observing the mannerisms of those simpering wives who stand by their adulterous husbands at press conferences. Elsewhere, Tim Dewberry is energetic as PI Alistair, bounding across the space and responding to events and comments with rehearsed spontaneity. Skulnick’s writing can raise a smile also. The Christmas tree propped up in the corner was “decorated by local hospitalised children – I had them wheeled in”, the snivelling MP declares.
Like politicians and politics generally, The Upstanding Member originally looks to deliver quite a bit, yet ultimately feels a little undercooked. But, after all, isn’t that what we, the electorate, have been trained to accept?
The Upstanding Member played at The Old Red Lion Theatre. For more information, see the Old Red Lion Theatre website.