The Madness of George III

by Alan Bennett

seen by live streaming from Nottingham Playhouse on 5 February 2019

Alan Bennett's 1991 play was revived last year at the Nottingham Playhouse (this screening last night was not, technically, live as it was a repeat, but it was first streamed live late last year). Adam Penford directed Mark Gatiss as George III, Debra Gillett as Queen Charlotte, Adrian Scarborough as Dr Willis, Nicholas Bishop as William Pitt and Wilf Scolding as the Prince of Wales, with a dozen supporting cast. The production was designed by Robert Jones.

The play deals with the personal and political crisis of the king's first bout of madness in 1788/9 (there is a casual reference to the fall of the Bastille towards the end of the play). The imagined personal life of the King and Queen is the main focus, but of course in the eighteenth century the mental incapacity of the monarch had grave political repercussions, especially considering the discord between the King and the Prince of Wales (dismayingly referred to by the Queen only as 'the Son'). Generally the opposition party tended to support the current Prince of Wales throughout the eighteenth century as some sort of Royal patronage was essential to political success; the modern idea of the 'loyal opposition' was in its infancy.

Bennett has constructed a play fairly dense with information at the beginning, lightly transmitted to the audience through the device of briefing a new member of the Royal household. He is excellent at portraying protocol and using it as a signifier of the King's state of health: while he is of sound mind he is treated with almost stultifying deference, but while he is manic the autocratic Doctor Willis, called in from Lincolnshire, has him forcibly restrained and speaks to him as if to a fractious child. The King is aware of the outrage to propriety but unable to withstand it until his illness (whatever it was ) passes. Bennett's feel for the nuances of language, and a clever use of formality without resorting to eighteenth century pastiche, is wonderfully effective.

Mark Gatiss gave a commanding performance, brilliantly conveying the King's restless curiosity, his amazing capacity to remember minute details of people's careers, his tenderness towards his wife, and his terror and dismay as his mental faculties begin to fail him. The contrast between the confident display of royal prestige and the pathetic figure unable to control a spew of words and yet still aware that something was wrong was intensely powerful and poignant, while the ripples of political crisis eddying around the central problem were well sketched by the supporting cast - the anxious and profoundly hurt Queen, the self-seeking Prince of Wales, the earnest and humourless Prime Minister William Pitt, and Charles James Fox scheming to replace him. A secondary world of the hapless medical profession, endlessly squabbling over the correct forms of treatment (all seeming variously barbaric to modern sensibilities, and hence ripe for Bennett's sens of the absurd) echoed the general atmosphere of a crisis to which no-one could respond adequately.

The complicated technical demands of the play were extremely well served by the Robert Jones who designed a versatile set on double revolves, allowing for quick changes of scene with minimum fuss. 

Interestingly, five of the minor male characters, including two of the doctors, were played by women though dressed and spoken and referred to as men. To some extent the period costumes allayed the strangeness of this, since male and female dress was so completely distinct in those days, and after initial surprise the 'gender-blind' casting was not an issue.

It was great to see such an impressive revival of a powerful and entertaining play (I saw the original National Theatre production in mid 1992). I cannot resist noting the anecdote that the film's title was altered to The Madness of King George in case audiences unfamiliar with British history (ie, American audiences) thought that they had missed the first two instalments of a franchise. I'm afraid that even if this is an urban myth, it is a delicious one, and somehow in keeping with the humane humour of the play.