The Mad Gay King @ King's Head Theatre - Review

Ambitious but too short to do anything well. ★★★

Oct 10, 2024

At the King’s Head Theatre, Angel, until 18th October 2024.

Tickets from £10.

Rating: ★★★

The Mad Gay King has a valuable and compelling tale to tell but, much like it’s protagonist, tries to do too much with too little time. It is the true enough story of Ludwig II, 19th century king of Bavaria who you might know as the chap who built that cool castle in all the Germany travel guides (Neuschwanstein). It focuses in on the last period of his life, with his final relationship and death, but even in this short window feels cramped. The core frustration with this show is that it is 70 minutes long, and in this time tries to portray a sympathetic and tragic romance within a tale of true history and court intrigue. None of this is achieved, it feels rushed, characters are barely developed and the chronology is unclear.

The title character is a monarch in pre-unification Germany, spending money on architectural flights of fancy and the operas of a virulent antisemite while pouting about the increasing control of modern government. He is not a naturally sympathetic character, and at no point are we given a reason to like him. There is not enough up-front character work to make his inevitable downfall tragic. There are promising moments (a dispute with his mother over marriage; watching a battle in the forest) but they come too late and are too brief to be effective. Also lacking is a real commitment to madness, or an outright rejection. We teeter instead between, seeing a fairly naturalistic performance with an occasional touch of delusion. True madness, with more exposition of his fairy-tale flights of fantasy and delusions of grandeur, would be more impactful and gripping; while committing to a historical argument that his “madness” was purely a ploy to dethrone him would be brave and enhance the political side of the plot significantly.

His romantic co-star is even less developed. His motivations are consistently unclear, particularly in the subplot of political intrigue. For much of the play, it was not obvious to me if he was romantically interested in Ludwig, even after a steamy kiss and impressively intimate, well choreographed sex scene. The audience is left with a solid brief biography of Richard Honig the historical figure, but no feel for Richard Honig the character.

The history is at times the saving grace, I do feel lightly informed, but still imperfect. Chronology is murky, and the flattening of the machinations of power necessitated by a 70 minute play with a 4 person cast make me doubt whether I have a good understanding of facts. More investigation of the homophobia of the time could be interesting- it’s barely mentioned, and could easily be set in a small town today, with an overall impression of disinterested tolerance.

The romance is not aided by casting two actors with physicalities that make the dynamic feel more like babysitting than romance when added to the contrast of a sheltered royal and a soldier who has seen some shit. It is no fault of the actors that they have a significant height difference and that the one portraying Ludwig looks ten years younger, but this should have been considered when casting.

Thom Tuck, playing Richard Wagner and other roles, is the stand-out star of this production. He is convincing and confident, his portrayal mocks Wagner’s scheming, antisemitism, and artistic snobbery without tipping into charicature. It is unfortunate how much he outshines the rest of the (perfectly fine) cast, and that his excellent character work makes Wagner the most developed character on stage.

The costuming is good but not especially note-worthy. The staging is clever, four bold neon lights are moved around to suggest a variety of settings, adding a dynamic and modern feel to the production and enabling the fast pace.

I am glad this play exists and appreciate that fringe theatre often has to be short to get a slot, but in it’s current form it does justice to nobody; not the actors, not the writer, not the audience and certainly not to Ludwig II.