Abigail’s Party at Royal Exchange Theatre – review

This new take on the Mike Leigh classic sees Abigail’s Party relocate,  as the suburban drinks party from hell leaves Essex and heads up North. There are still cheese and pineapple hedgehogs and copious amounts of gin and tonic but Alison Steadmans’ nasal drawl is replaced by a very Northern Kym Marsh as the ghastly Beverly. This darkly funny production still revels in the absurd and shines a harsh spotlight on suburban life in the aspirational ’70s.

Director Natalie Abrahami and set designer Peter Butler do a great job of ensuring the audience are like flies on the wall glued to every awkward move by the party guests. Staged in the round there is literally nowhere to hide as the drinks flow and this car crash of a party implodes. The ’70s house is replete with shagpile rugs and G plan furniture, a real leather three-piece suite and a silver plated candelabra. In a house without walls, the facade of social niceties is stripped away and casual violence, bitter sniping and undignified vomiting are all vividly on show.

Kym Marsh makes for a very glamorous hostess. Resplendent in an elaborate flouncy evening gown that looks like it should be straight out of the Biba store and reeking of Estée Lauder Youth Dew, this is a woman on a social climbing mission rather like a younger, much sexier version of Hyacinth Bucket.

Marsh may play her Beverly for the more obvious laughs but when she lands certain key lines her delivery is often perfectly timed. Her social gaffs are shockers as she rides roughshod over the feelings and wishes of her husband and her guests, yet one brilliantly directed scene gives her character a pathos and vulnerability that is truly memorable. As Beverly sits in the downstairs toilet and her mask slips, we get to see beyond the desperation to be admired and witness this lonely woman touch up her lipstick and literally paint a smile back on her face before returning to the party.

Graham Hawley is excellent as Laurence. His blustering delivery and palpable frustration at being continually undermined by his wife ramp up the tension and discomfort especially in the second act as he attempts to connect over art and literature with his middle class neighbour. Kyle Rowe imbues his character Tony with a complexity and raw energy that feels new to this production. Here the taciturn, Northern bluntness really adds to his character, plus Rowe adds something more physical that makes Beverly’s lascivious interest all the more believable – and his shift into violence towards his young wife even more chilling.

It is always a challenge to take on such an iconic play as Abigail’s Party. In this instance there is certainly enough theatrical gin in the glass to make for a highly entertaining party and, unlike poor Laurence, this is a production unlikely to require CPR and the kiss of life from an inebriated partyguest.