It would be easy to mock Liz Truss, the Prime Minister of the UK whom the Daily Star pointed out did not outlast the shelf life of its live-streamed lettuce. (The lettuce makes an appearance in this production.) Indeed, there are amusing moments in Greg Wilkinson’s play that would easily lend themselves to a new episode of the satirical television show Spitting Image.
It must have been tempting to do exactly that, given the play includes the voice impressionist Steve Nallon, who in one scene as the voice of Jacob Rees-Mogg, who is often referred to as the “Honourable Member for the 18th century”, tries to teach Truss, whom he calls Lizzie, how to curtsy without making it look as if she will fly away.
However, the writer has something more serious in mind, giving us Emma Wilkinson Wright confidently performing as Liz taking us on a tour of her views while waiting for the knock on the door to announce the results of a no-confidence vote.
A brief glimpse at her school rebellion, where she insists she is called Elizabeth rather than her listed first name of Mary, is followed by mention of her short time with the Liberal Democrats and her Oxford days surrounded by “loads of Tories”.
She spends much of that early part of the show praising Thatcherite policies of growth and investment, which she argues are impeded by bureaucrats and politicians who “bluster with sound bites” when people need “a hand up, not a hand-out.”
She sometimes waves a copy of her co-authored book Britannia Unchained, which an FT review headlined “Britannia Unhinged”.
Speaking about the problems of the economy, she says British workers are “among the worst idlers in the world”.
The problem with the first half is the lack of anything to pull us into her story. There are a couple of amusing moments and Liz Truss doing karaoke songs, but the politics don’t lead us into a story or carry any dramatic tension. The second half is slightly more engaging.
Liz lists the “pros and doubts” about her policies on a whiteboard, claiming she doesn’t “do boring; I do shock and awe-ing. Never mind the lefty rags FT and Guardian on the budget”.
Even driven from office, she is reluctant to admit her chances of success are over, despite the voice of Thatcher telling her she has, “put the Tories on the edge of extinction.”
Instead, she applauds Trump as a model to follow, wishing she could team up with him. She explains that the politicians are forced to be just spectators to what is happening while those “in charge are the men in suits in the shadows.” Insisting that after Labour spend five years messing things up, people will be so angry they will want something radically different, she sings “Our Time Will Come”.
Reviewer: Keith Mckenna