The Old Vic, til 19 August 2024

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Deft three-hander shows how good people can end up in toxic conflict.

Coming in at just 90 minutes and featuring a cast of only three, The Constituent packs a punch with a compelling story that covers politics, gender dynamics, trauma and mental health. I was expecting a political satire, but it’s something more serious and more human than that. Rather than being a commentary on Whitehall (though there is a bit of that), it’s a tale of how two essentially reasonable and well-intentioned people can end up in bitter conflict.

Monica is a backbench MP who miraculously seems to actually care about looking out for her consituents. In a chance meeting, she is reintroduced to Alec, a primary school chum whose mother briefly helped Monica’s campaign. Alec is a returned serviceman, clearly still battling some demons, who now runs his own security business (their coincidental meeting occurs when he installs the security cameras at her office). He’s also fighting a nasty custody battle after an acrimonious divorce, and though his and Monica’s first meeting is warm and conversational, Alec becomes increasingly obsessed with getting Monica’s support for his vendetta against the system. As their meetings go on, tensions escalate. This leads to the introduction of the play’s third hand, an uncompromising parliamentary protection officer with little compassion for those outside the straight and narrow.

Perhaps its just recency bias, but for me the play had echoes of the excellent Baby Reindeer. Not that Alec is anywhere near Martha’s levels of terrifying (though he does jokingly refer to himself as a ‘stalker’ at points in the play). Rather, what’s appealing about The Constituent is that, like Baby Reindeer, it refuses to give us an easy villain and hero narrative. There are definitely times when Alec is in the wrong – he unfairly pins his trauma on Monica and fails to recognise why his behaviour might be seen as threatening. But he is a sympathetic character throughout, motivated by his love for his children, and we never shake the sense that this is ultimately a good man who has lost his way. Similarly Monica, though almost saint-like in her determination to achieve some good outcome for Alec, makes questionable choices too (such as her comments to a local newspaper). Even DC Mellor, who is the least sympathetic of the three, is clearly motivated by a desire to keep Monica safe the only way he knows how.

It’s deft writing from Joe Penhall to convey such complexity in a short play. The dialogue is excellent – it’s clever and dense but also naturalistic, creating fully rounded characters that we sympathise with instantly. One of the most interesting themes for me was the exploration of gender dynamics, which Penhall delves into overtly and also in more subtle ways. As a returned serviceman, Alec is bound up in ideals of masculinity that take their toll, and express themselves in unfortunate ways (his tendency towards outbursts and violent language). By contrast, though Monica doesn’t at first glance fall into a traditional female role, her unshakeable sense of guilt at Alec’s situation speaks to a very feminine instinct to take on a caring role. This stereotypical dynamic between men and women is played out not only through Alec’s custody battle (which is cleverly portrayed to show Alec’s pain but also explain the importance of protecting women), but also in the way Monica takes on so much of Alec’s trauma and suffering. 

This dynamic is expertly performed by Anna Maxwell-Martin and James Corden as the leads. Maxwell-Martin is perfectly cast to show Monica’s intelligence alongside her deep compassion (if only more politicians were like Monica, essentially the dream MP!) Corden also gives a great performance as the blokey everyman hiding a deep well of vulnerability. (This is Corden’s first major outing after returning to London, and though I know his personal life has been plagued by various accusations of unpleasantness, there’s no doubt the man can really act.) I think it’s also important to acknowledge the work of Zachary Hart as DC Mellor; the poor man doesn’t get billing on the poster but he’s the essential final piece of the triumvirate and becomes ever more crucial to the story as it progresses. Hart has a good sense for the comedy of the character but doesn’t let that stand in the way of nailing the serious moments. 

The play is directed by Matthew Warchus, The Old Vic’s Artistic Director (and incidentally, director of my favourite ever film Pride). There are some nice directorial touches here, particularly in the way characters move from one side of the stage to the other as the power dynamic between them shifts (notably, in the second-to-last scene in which all three appear on-stage at once). The stage has been shifted forwards so the audience surrounds the drama, which I think is a clever choice to really emphasise the movement between characters. 

This play is fleeting both on the stage and in the length of its run – it’s only on until 10 August. I would highly recommend nabbing a ticket before then if you can. It’s an engaging, thought-provoking bit of theatre – and highly affecting in its final scenes.