Kym Marsh dazzles as Mike Leigh’s leading lady
Abigail’s Party is famed for an absent eponymous character and an iconic original cast. As such, this latest show at the Royal Exchange comes draped in expectations of nostalgia. But, before the script even begins, Kym Marsh commands the stage as the flamboyant, nouveau riche Beverly. Her costume alone demands attention and the glint in her eye promises over-the-top theatricality from the outset.
Whilst 15-year-old Abigail hosts a raucous party on an otherwise quiet residential street, a group of neighbours meet for drinks, nibbles, and uncomfortable small talk.
Beverly and Laurence are our hosts, a couple with increasingly little in common and an insatiable appetite for gybing at one another. Newcomer to the street, Ange attends in an openly desperate attempt to fit in. Whilst her husband Tony comes along under screamingly apparent duress. Despite Beverly’s affectations, the foursome’s interactions centre on feigned manners and free-flowing drinks - a combination that inspires belly laughs from the audience throughout.
When Sue - Abigail’s mum - pops in to complete the gathering, she brings an amusing change of pace. Tupele Dorgu introduces intentionally awkward silences for the first time and supplements her short interjections with comedically wide eyes and a tight-lipped smile. Depicted initially as the “uptight” member of the group, it becomes increasingly apparent that Sue may well be the rare glimpse of sanity amidst the brewing chaos.
First performed at the Hampstead Theatre in 1977, Abigail’s Party is quintessentially ’70’s. Designer Peter Butler, pulls together an impeccably accurate mid-century living space. From teak sideboards and a well-stocked drinks cabinet, to fully-equipped adjacent rooms in full audience view, the set design serves every scripted reference and offers a feast for wandering eyes. Translating a TV-style sitting room drama for the round is no mean feat, but, as the audience enter the theatre, the set grounds us in a distinct time capsule.
Set in near-to real time, the plot has a lifespan little longer than a bottle of gin split five ways. In around two hours, the group cover the full gamut of universal small talk and chit chat. Though a handful of references are distinctly dated, the majority are as applicable today as when Mike Leigh first drafted them. Sadly, even the simmering dark undertones remain familiar, as the female characters gloss over their partners’ aggressive habits.
As Beverly, Marsh finds close to a thousand different intonations for “yeah”, “alright” and “fantastic”. This leading lady barely pauses for breath, imbuing every line with energy and infinitesimal comic nuance. Seemingly innocent phrases balance passive aggression with flirtation, and her implied undertones scream far louder than the hifi system. Embodying shrill snobbery into every line, suggestive lean, and comical facial expression, Marsh is a delight to watch.
Her direct counterpart, Kyle Rowe’s Tony (or “Tone”) is hilariously monosyllabic. He’s dealt a tough hand scripturally, but he moulds comedy value from his brief lines. Indeed, the whole cast are masters of pacing and tone in this production. From Yasmin Taheri’s tragically funny foot-in-mouth habit as Angela, to Graeme Hawley’s overtly classist diatribe as Laurence, the cast maintain equilibrium between the group.
After exhausting the mundane topics that immediately abound over a cheese and pineapple hedgehog, the conversation turns barbed. The group tiptoe, rather heavy-footedly, into the realm of the inappropriate. The veil of sophistication wears thin, manners dissolve and the production steadily crescendoes to its high-pitched end.
As naturalism abounds, director Natalie Abrahami is carefully selective with her creative decisions. On a small stage, crowded with furniture, the director has clearly pored over every step. In a charming celebration of the innovative staging in the round, the stage spins each time the record player bursts into life. This seemingly simple sprinkling of theatricality inserts the audience even closer into every nuanced facial expression occurring on stage.
Indeed, the record player becomes a character in itself thanks to carefully selected musical accompaniments. From groovy ‘70s jams, to Beethoven’s Fifth, each of the songs enhances the comedic effect of the already hilarious piece.
This 2025 rendition of Abigail’s Party marries comforting nostalgia with uncomfortably familiar “networking” situations. This cult classic confidently stands the test of time with this incredibly well-matched cast and crew at the helm.
Abigail’s Party plays at the Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester until Saturday 24th May. For tickets and more information, visit the RX Theatre website.
Explore more female-fronted theatre from the Royal Exchange in the Harpy Archive.
Production images by Johan Persson.
