When drama happens to collide uncannily with shifts in the political landscape, the effect can be spectacular. Think of the political intrigue in the original British TV drama version of House of Cards being broadcast when Margaret Thatcher was days away from dramatically resigning (or indeed of the US-Russian subplots currently depicted in Netflix’s current House of Cards).
The political cocktail can be potently served up in theatre too. Look at 1960s musical Hair which embodied the anti-war counterculture movement of the time. Right now in London, the political drama Limehouse, being staged at the Donmar Warehouse, is serving as a dramatic barometer of the stormy current British political climate.
The play documents the day in 1981 when four disaffected Labour Party MPs David Owen, Shirley Williams, Roy Jenkins and Bill Rodgers vowed to form their own centrist political party after drawing up the ‘Limehouse’ declaration. The ‘Gang of Four’ ,as they came to be known, set up the Social Democratic Party to challenge Margaret Thatcher who was being ineffectually opposed by a Labour Party led by Michael Foot.
Until the Falklands War and economic recovery revived the Iron Lady’s fortunes, the SDP were a political force to be reckoned with. Late film director Sir Richard Attenborough even speculated in 1982 that if his movie biopic subject Mahatma Gandhi were still alive, he would have voted SDP.
Right from the opening line (“The Labour Party is f****d”) playwright Steve Waters doesn’t shirk from drawing parallels with the modern-day shambolic state of affairs that is presently paralyzing the British left.
Adroitly directed by Polly Findlay, who establishes a brisk rhythm aided by an overhead digital clock, Limehouse makes for riveting entertainment as well as being the most relevant play in London.
The performances are fine (Tom Goodman-Hill as Owen, Roger Allam as Jenkins, Debra Gillett as Williams, Paul Chahidi as Rodgers and Nathalie Armin as Owen’s American publishing wife Debbie). Goodman-Hill’s zealousness more closely resembles the film director Tom Hooper than the suave Owen but Allam brilliantly captures Roy Jenkins ‘de haut en bas’ manner (this is someone who once confessed to a fellow MP upon leaving his Birmingham constituency in the 1950s, “Don’t you always feel an enormous sense of relief when you leave this place?”)
Waters has certainly done his homework, throwing in zingers without ever showing off. Talking about his co-conspirators, Owen remarks at one stage, “Bill is Roy’s poodle when he’s not doubling as Shirley’s mascot.”
Political junkies will love the scene in which the SDP manifesto is drawn up amidst a debate over whether they should use the word ‘necessitate’ or ‘demand.’ And while the play speaks to the left, it isn’t a bleeding heart polemic. In fact the argument articulated by the ‘Gang of Four’ in the play of the need to throw caution to the wind and see where uncertainty takes them isn’t a million miles away from the rationale for Brexit (which Owen himself supported).
A ‘what-if’ epilogue strikes a redundant note to proceedings but generally Limehouse provides enthralling entertainment.
The stakes in Limehouse aren’t as high as in other political dramas but that’s actually a masterstroke since the comradely cosiness probably accounts for why the SDP ultimately promised more than they delivered.
I didn’t realize until I saw the play that the Limehouse declaration was drawn up on the day I turned three years old. Ultimately my third birthday party probably posed more of a threat to Margaret Thatcher than the SDP.
But while recent history has seemed like it’s out to get centrist parties, with Jeremy Corbyn showing no signs of being fit to govern anytime soon, on the compelling evidence of Limehouse a 21st century equivalent of the SDP might not be such a bad idea after all.
Limehouse is on at the Donmar Warehouse until 15 April