I realise that the Monarchy can be a divisive topic but, love it or loathe it, no one can deny that Queen Elizabeth II devoted her whole life to the duty which was bestowed on her, even though she was not born to reign. Had Edward VIII not abdicated, it would have been his children who inherited the throne, if he had any, rather than the first-born daughter of his brother George VI. If you need an indication as to how devoted she was; when terminally ill, she insisted on facilitating the change of prime minister only two days before she died. That would have been a gargantuan task at best, but when you consider that it meant having to be polite to both Boris Johnson and Liz Truss, within an hour or two of each other, any mere mortal would have had no qualms about throwing a sickie. Actually any mere mortal in the best of health, would have looked for any excuse to dodge having to meet those two.
This play, by Daisy Goodwin, examines the life of the late Queen from 1969 until her death in 2022. Rather than being a narrative exploring the events of those years and re-enacting them as a kind of documentary, or choosing a couple of episodes to delve deeply into, Ms Goodwin approached the period by examining Her Majesty’s wardrobe choices on several pivotal occasions. It also provided an insight on the relationship between three key influences in her inner circle. This unique modus operandi worked very well – for about twenty minutes – after which it became rather tedious. I would liken it to a sketch show where the same joke was repeated every time. The second half, when the emphasis shifted more towards the personal lives and relationships of the participants, took it to a darker place, where the impetus moved away from the Queen, and her sartorial statements becoming more incidental. The caricature nature of the portrayal of the characters in the first act, detracting from their ability to be taken too seriously in the second.
The one exception was The Dresser, who came into her own as the two males moved on to other things. I also found it irritating that the protagonists were referred to by their occupation rather than name, as it was blindingly obvious that The Designer was Hardy Amies, The Milliner, Freddie Fox and The Queen was Elizabeth II. Alright, The Dresser, Angela Kelly, was not a household name – except in the Royal Household of course – and the one who most deserved to be recognised. She was the daughter of a Merseyside docker who had got a job as a housekeeper at the British Embassy in Rome and, when asked by Queen Elizabeth, whilst staying there, as to who was to be the next visitor, she refused to divulge the information. This display of discretion led to her being hired. Her main claim to fame was when she refused to lend Megan Markle the Queen Mary tiara so that she could try it on for a rehearsal with her hairdresser.
Fortunately we were not taken through all of the outfits worn during the fifty-three year span of the play, Hardy Amies retired after making her 500th ensemble, but the 15 which were chosen served the purpose more than adequately.
1969 was both the year of Prince Charles’s Investiture as The Prince of Wales, and the change of Queen Elizabeth’s dress designer from her mother’s favourite, Norman Hartnell, to Hardy Amies, with a view to bringing her image up to date. The outfit for the occasion was a daffodil yellow dress and coat which exposed Her Majesty’s knees for the first time, paired with a matching hat from Freddie Fox, which caused quite a stir as it was far different from anything she had worn before. Looking at the photograph, I don’t recall anyone else having worn anything like it before either, she looked like a crew member on a spaceship. The idea, it seems, was to juxtapose the traditional regalia worn by The Prince of Wales with the contemporary look of the Swinging Sixties. (For my readers who are based abroad, the daffodil is the national flower of Wales.)
The Milliner, James Dreyfus, shows off his space helmet to The Queen, Anne Reid with The Dresser, Caroline Quentin and The Designer, James Wilby, giving their opinions.
She wasn’t always deferential to those whom she met, however, as the second episode illustrated. Don’t worry, I’m not going through all of the outfits. It is now 1972 and the Duke of Windsor – King Edward VIII – is dying in Paris where he lived with his wife. The Duchess, whose motto was, ‘You can never be too rich or too thin.’ was always immaculately turned out in French couture with Cartier leopard brooch in order to make her the centre of attention. As there was still a certain amount of animosity between the two women, which obviously could not be expressed verbally, especially in public, Amies designed a tweed outfit specifically to make her look somewhat frumpy, patterned like the furniture in a railway waiting room, but adorned with a brooch containing one of the largest diamonds in the world. Fox added a schoolgirl-like hat. The message, successfully delivered, was that HRH didn’t need to glam up to be the main attraction, and, by the way Sunshine, my bling is genuine.
There were some witty lines delivered, especially between Hardy Amies and Freddie Fox – sorry – the Designer and The Milner – both gay; the former being an upper class English war hero and the latter, a small town Australian, their jibes occasionally spiked with humorous put-downs. By and large though, the laughs elicited from the audience were of the forced kind to let everyone else know that they remembered the reference. Speaking of the paying customers, the largest demographic was at the top end of the age scale, so much so that I felt quite young in comparison. An unwanted consequence was the seat-shuffling towards the end of the evening by my contemporaries and the odd incandescent glow of a mobile from the younger element. There is no greater judge of a production than the audience.
The construction was held together by use of The Curator, played by Gráinne Dromgoole, who opened the play immediately after the Queen’s funeral, by asking The Dresser, if she had any records of Her Majesty’s outfits so that she could assemble an ‘immersive exhibition’ in her memory. The work was then performed in flashbacks. This meant that there was no flow, as after each vignette, The Curator would appear to let us know what year it was and give a resumé of some of the events, both earth shattering and frivolous, the latter usually being the winner of the Eurovision Song Contest, which became a bit repetitive. There was a back projection confirming the year along with the odd sketch and pattern of the dress in question. The links also provided cover for The Footmen, Fiona Tong and Jeremy Drakes, to rearrange the props. Probably the best dressed scene shifters in the history of British theatre. The gender diversity of the footmen was not a nod to Pride Month, but Ms Tong was also understudy to The Queen and The Dresser, while Mr Drakes filled the same function for The Designer and The Milliner.
The staccato effect, from Director, Dominic Dromgoole, also meant that the more personal pieces, such as The Milliner’s breakdown during a fitting in 1986, after he had turned up at the Palace having come straight from his lover’s hospital bedside where he was in the final throes of AIDS, cut to three years later and the Windsor Castle fire, as though it had never happened.
My final disappointment, was the acting. When I first saw that this play was coming to the Grand, I looked at the cast list and couldn’t believe my eyes as to the talent involved. Although I have heard the name Freddie Fox, both in the news at the time and a rather rude joke revolving around his surname, I don’t recall what he looked like, although a quick reference to Wikipedia has shown me that James Dreyfus did bear a passing resemblance. His delivery was borderline over the top camp which I thought a bit cartoon-like but that image was shattered when he dropped a few F-bombs in the presence of The Queen during a fitting. An incident which she didn’t even acknowledge, let alone react to.
James Wilby, as The Designer, behaved like the army officer he was, having won the Military Cross for his operations behind enemy lines in the Second World War. His demeanour was that of someone who was covering up his homosexuality, although it seems, not to great effect, as his commanding officer said to him, ‘You are the bravest man in the regiment, even if you are a poof!’ A gift there for those of you who are searching the web for something to be offended by. You’re welcome.
The Dresser, played by Caroline Quentin, morphed confidently from looking after HRH and adding the finishing touches to the men’s creations by the use of accessories and jewellery, to successfully designing the whole wardrobe after the retirement of Amies and the death of Fox.
Anne Reid, as The Queen, added the years to her character very well and played her as someone with a mischievous sense of humour, which we all knew she had, but the two women occasionally crashed each others lines and, I believe, dried once or twice, which was a pity as I have great admiration for them both.
So, in conclusion, I have to say that the night was a huge disappointment for me. It could have been partly my fault for expecting such a high standard, from some of my favourite actors, but, as I alluded to before, I got the impression that I was not alone.
If you are a fan of the late Queen, and up for a night of nostalgia and gentle humour, please don’t be put off, you will probably have a good evening despite the format. You will also pick up some tips on the use of colour in your choice of clothes and the importance of getting it just right
By Royal Appointment is at Leeds Grand Theatre until 28th June. For more details and to book, please go to https://leedsheritagetheatres.com/whats-on/by-royal-appointment-2025/
For other shows at Leeds Heritage Theatres it is https://leedsheritagetheatres.com/whats-on/
I realise that no one probably noticed, or cared, but I had chosen my ensemble especially for the evening. When I was a teenager in the 1960s I possessed a double breasted navy blue blazer by Hardy Amies. It wasn’t the Savile Row version, but sold by a chain of menswear shops called Hepworth’s, which some years later became Next. As a tribute I donned my much newer model by M&S!
Photographs by Nobby Clark
Tyke It To The Limit 