THURSDAY, MAY 8, 2025



Nell Gwynn
A scene from the Lyric Drama Studio's production of 'Nell Gwynn'.
Production Photo: Neil Harrison

The Lyric Drama Studio's production of Jessica Swale's Nell Gwynn, directed by Philip Crawford, is an astonishingly overwhelming experience bursting with vibrancy, invention and charisma, a history lesson like no other. Equally socio-political and satirical in its telling of the inspired-by-real-events tale of the title character, orange seller from Covent Garden turned popular actress turned mistress of King Charles II in mid-seventeenth-century England, it stands out as a premier example of theatrical development for performers in its universe and out of it - a story of confidence and truth, of nature and nurture, and how soaring in one instance can be countered by falling in another. It's a legitimately divine tragicomedy with impressive staging and energising performances.

"Energising" would certainly be one word for Amy Giffen's portrayal of Nell, a genuine revelation in its intensely performative versatility and a clear inspiration to every other cast member. On Stuart Marshall's very intricate set, which casts the Naughton Studio at Belfast's Lyric as an openly expressive space where a stage-within-a-stage (for the King's Theatre Company) is to the left of me and a throne room (for King Charles II himself) to the right, Giffen and the cast, adorned with Rosie McClelland's richly detailed costumes, lead the audience's eyes and ears in cleverly integrated comedy, class and cabaret – bizarrely, but effectively, musical, mirthful and meditative all together.

Nell's pathway from commoner to royalty and everything in between is a hugely complex one, and it's to Crawford's credit that he handles Swale's ambitious scripting so skilfully. Room is found not only to amplify occasionally eye-popping set pieces - like an instance of French singing that bowls one over in its audacity - but also subtle inflections which heighten depth of supporting character. Among many worthy performers, Jack Elmore effectively presents the clashing effects of the King's personal desires and royal responsibilities, while Faith Dawson is near-heartbreakingly real as Nell's sister Rose, her acting bringing an enduring challenge to Nell Gwynn as a play as well as Nell the character.

Amy Giffen as the title character in the Lyric Drama Studio's production of 'Nell Gwynn'.
Production Photo: Neil Harrison

For even when we take clear pleasure in Nell's journey, it's difficult, even impossible, not to consider if one can be so focused on both looking classy and living in the moment that they either inadvertently or intentionally sideline, or worse, ignore the difficulties that came before, which, frankly, continue to exist. It's clear that the highs of being the centre of attention, whether one is appreciated by their fellow players on stage, feels like royalty, or applauded by a theatrical audience, can very easily take precedence in the form of the dreamy uplift which inevitably arises in each instance. But is it really all fleeting? Is it fuel in the form of a repetitive succession of temporary sparks rather than a foundation for life? They are moments which fill us, like a magical run, pass or goal from your favourite attacking footballer, but eventually, even the memory of the moment is overwhelmed by the visible aging which can only follow the stress of attempting to sustain image.

And image, illustrative image, is what seems to drive Nell Gwynn in every way – a visual description of the gap between artifice and reality, of the distance between the affluent and the impoverished, and of how all forms of art can connect but also sever their potentially polarising but permanently present effects. I, and we, laugh heartily and often during Nell Gwynn, but I also find myself teary afterwards. Because one does ask, are they not supposed to properly enjoy the fruits of their labours and the breaks that do fall in their favour, no matter how brief they may be? It's an indication of how too many of the branches of love – between parents and children, siblings, partners, friends, responsibilities and occupations – have overloaded us. It's the spectacle of joy and the spectre of loss. Nell Gwynn is who we are, in all our beauty and pain – the kind of character we need right now and always have.

Simon Fallaha

Nell Gwynn runs in the Naughton Studio at the Lyric Theatre, Belfast, until Saturday May 10. For more information, and tickets, click here.