Boudica

The Iron Lady

Boudica

by Tristan Bernays

Questors Productions at the Judi Dench Playhouse, Ealing, until 10^th May

Review by Honette Troland

Everyone knows Queen Boadicea, if only from her scythed war chariot, impressively seen in the Victorian statue at the foot of Westminster Bridge: a redoubtable British queen quite literally cutting the ground from under the Roman soldiers daring to invade her East Anglian kingdom.

Bernays’ play retells the history of Boudica, as her name is written in contemporary texts, based on the scare recorded facts of the Queen of the Iceni peoples. King Prasutagus, a puppet ruler under the Romans died in AD61 and bequeathed half his kingdom to Rome and half to his Queen, Boudica.

Rome, however, is having none of this. It may accept some local autonomy, but not what it sees as ceding territory. Boudica’s claim as Queen is summarily quashed. She is abused, beaten, scourged, and banished from her own kingdom. Her two daughters are sexually violated, ravished by Roman soldiers.

The adamantine Boudica, though, is a force to be reckoned with. She is determined to avenge these atrocities. Nevertheless, she must weave a delicate web with her erstwhile allies, other British kingdoms, such as that of the pragmatic King Cunobeline.

Director David Emmet’s muscular production builds a well-rounded three dimensional exposé of the personalties involved, centring on the eponymous Queen, who must balance being both a Queen and a mother, as she wrestles with being a woman in a world of strong and ruthless men. The action is fast, frenzied and frenetic, and very physical, in which pitched battles become violent skirmishes and rhetoric becomes rant.

The set makes good use of the Playhouse’s vomitorium stage, its open area providing room for all the wild choreographed movement. A cyclorama is back-lit to present a dramatic backdrop, bold and luminescent. The soundscape underlies the action, adding to the orphic feeling, and often commenting on the action with percussive foreboding.

Hannah Victory, in the leading role, is a commanding presence, portraying the dignity and nobility of Queen Boudica, in a controlled performance of an independent, self-assured and resilient woman, an iron lady. Yet, she is a woman whose vulnerability is as a mother, drawn by her relationship with her daughters.

Both of Boudica’s daughters take a broad emotional journey throughout the play. Sophie George presents the elder sister Blodwynn as growing even more resolute, keen to be an up- there-and-at-’em warrior, increasing sure that she has the moral high ground. The younger sister Alonna, however, has doubts. Kerala McGrail, in this role, acutely expresses the princess’ unease as to where it is all going, as she increasingly reacts to the violence with pitiful concern.

David Hovatter’s supercilious hardened military man, Gaius Suetonius, is haughtily contemptuous of the British as a people. Indeed, the portrayal of the British kings veers dangerous close to they looking like lager louts, who are almost egged-on by Catus Deciamus, Procurator of Britain, a double-dealer, slickly played by Darren Chancey. Badvoc, played with gusto by David Erdos, for example, comes across as a pugnacious neanderthal. However, Antony Curran’s Cunobeline, is more circumspect and realistic, in a suitable underplayed depiction of a king whose sense of nationhood is tempered by understanding of what is possible.

The significance of Queen Boudica in the 21^st Century was touted at its premiere at Shakespeare’s Globe in 2017 as being a comment on Brexit, such was the fervour of the times. Of course the concept of national sovereignty looms large, but the appropriation of Boudica as a feminist icon seems to have more traction, and with obvious justification. Nevertheless, one shouldn’t miss that this attempts to piece together an important story whose historical sources are meagre and are known largely through Roman records. Boudica makes more real that statue near Westminster Bridge, here told with great energy and gutsy robustness.

Honette Troland, May 2025

Photography by Carla Marker