Jane Austen’s best-loved novel Pride and Prejudice (1813) has never been a stranger to stage adaptations, but Isobel McArthur’s bold retelling is a clear stand-out.
A feminist tour de force which sees a plethora of characters played by just five women (and Mr Bennet played by the back of an armchair), the 2022 Olivier award-winning Pride and Prejudice* (*sort of) is a testament to the power of good adaptation to renew the shelf-lives of our favourite classics.
The beauty of this adaptation is that it doesn’t completely turn the original on its head. Whether we first encountered Pride and Prejudice via the novel, or either the 1995 or 2005 film, we all know and love the story, so why mess with a good thing? McArthur’s play – co-directed by Simon Harvey – follows the same plot, it’s still set in Regency-era England with costumes to fit, and the characters are all of the same gender as in Austen’s original (although Bingley, Darcy and Wickham are played by women to excellent comedic value).
But Lydia (Tori Burgess) gets wasted on WKD Blue, Elizabeth/‘Liz’ (Leah Jamieson) is not averse to the more-than-occasional expletive, and Wickham (Christina Gordon) tackily tries to seduce Liz by sharing a cigarette with her while they stand next to a ‘Jane Aust-Bin.’ All things considered, it’s fair to say that McArthur’s Pride and Prejudice is not as PG as the original.
Indeed, McArthur’s tackling of ideas that were strictly taboo in Austen’s day is what makes this play a contemporary feminist masterpiece. From menopause to female desire to the downright creepiness of Wickham’s interest in teenage girls, McArthur can talk about what Austen couldn’t. Moreover, the play is postmodern not only in its unmissably wry references to today’s class and gender issues which dismally resemble those of England’s past, but also, and most crucially, in its comedic self-referentiality.
The play is set up from the start as a tale told by the Bennet family’s servants, played by all five cast members who share this collective narration between them. But McArthur doesn’t just stop at this play-within-a-play structure. She consistently reminds us that we are watching a play: we as audience are not embroiled in the events, and these are actors and not the Bennet sisters themselves. McArthur makes this no more evident than when Jane (Christina Gordon) rides to Netherfield on a noticeably plastic horse in a ‘rainstorm’ crafted onstage with a spray bottle. When done badly, such attempts at being ‘meta’ can lose the audience’s attention, but when done well – like McArthur does – they can be perfectly played for laughs.
It’s also refreshing to see an Austen adaptation that’s not brimming with RP Kiera Knightley accents. That isn’t to say there aren’t a few, but they are utilised expertly to emphasise the class distinctions (and pretensions, in Caroline Bingley’s case) that are so essential to Austen’s original work.
As the use of song is occasional and fleeting, I would not be inclined to describe this play as a musical any more than I would describe it as a drama – it’s a roaring comedy at heart, which entwines traditional elements of the musical and melodrama genres to great effect. I was particularly blown away by McArthur’s own hyper-dramatic ‘face acting.’ To move so swiftly from the put-upon yet frivolous Mrs Bennet to the brooding-to-the-point-of-social-ineptitude Darcy with only a costume change and an extremely arched eyebrow is quite the feat.
McArthur perfectly preserves the playfulness of Austen’s original. The play’s spontaneous feel and the chemistry between actors resemble an extended piece of improv comedy (just without the latter’s infamous awkwardness). The opening of the second act did feel slightly less lively in comparison to the flawless first half, and the occasional joke felt a bit forced, but any doubts were quickly dispelled as the play once again picked up and came to an energised end. My favourite performance was definitely Hannah Jarrett-Scott as Charles Bingley. Her wonderfully exaggerated style truly encapsulated for me Bingley’s puppyish naivety, at once both loveable and infuriating.
All in all, this was a wonderful production that had me genuinely laughing out loud, and the whole audience on its feet at the end. I would especially recommend this play not just to Pride and Prejudice fans but also to those who have enjoyed the likes of Miranda, Fleabag and St. Trinian’s. McArthur’s play makes a concerted effort to transgress its boundary of time, to give the audience an honest portrayal of what it’s like to be a woman, no matter the era.
My only qualm is that McArthur missed a trick by not including what is, of course, the single best line created as a result of Austen’s oeuvre: ‘What excellent boiled potatoes!’ But I can forgive this – Mrs Bennet bringing Viennetta to Caroline’s party (‘It’s Italian!’) definitely makes up for it.
Pride and Prejudice* (*sort of) is playing at the Lyceum until 26th November, and then is touring across the UK until June 2023. (https://prideandprejudicesortof.com/uk-tour)
