1536 - Ambassadors Theatre

This isn't a political piece. Except it is, in every sense of the word. There is very little objectivity when it comes to a work with such a strong message. This reviewer finds herself almost sick to the stomach contemplating how, almost 500 years on, very little has changed in men's attitudes towards women.

1536 is a formidable year in history, one whose events are known throughout England, and yet very few could place it with any precision. It is, of course, the year when Henry VIII turned from feeling blinding love to blinding hatred towards Anne Boleyn, famously costing her life. Ava Pickett had two choices when handling such a topic: either make Anne Boleyn the focus of the conversation, or highlight her significance whilst barely uttering her name. Pickett chose the latter, and whilst Anne Boleyn's arrest is treated more as a piece of gossip than a serious political upheaval, its presence suffocates every conversation.

Photography: Helen Murray

Jane, Mariella, and Anna are three women in a small village in Essex, each representing a different "type" of woman. Mariella is a midwife, sharp and rational, and it is often she who is called upon to resolve conflict. Jane is the perfect wife, kind and calm: she embodies the so-called "obedient woman." Anna, on the other hand, most resembles Anne Boleyn in that she actively seeks the attention of men, without ever having the intention of settling down. Upon first look, and with a reasonable knowledge of Tudor England - particularly of the role of women at the time - one can begin to guess who is going to emerge from Boleyn's execution (relatively) unscathed.

Everything about this production is deliberate and, for lack of a better word, brilliant. The names 'Jane' and 'Anna' - something this reviewer did not notice until later in the show - appear to mirror the two queens: Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour. The former desired for the passion she ignited in those around her; the latter cherished for her gentle disposition. Neither of them masters of their own fates.

What is most striking about this play, besides the obvious, is how utterly funny it is. The language is entirely familiar, with modern slang almost making its way onto their lips. The audience was practically in stitches throughout the first half. But when the men entered the picture, the atmosphere shifted considerably. Without wishing to spoil too much, Anna's name quickly becomes the one on everybody's lips in the village, and not for the right reasons. The men draw her into precarious situations and are swift to shift blame, all the while knowing they hold the power to end her life in an instant.

The casting for this production is exceptional. Siena Kelly as Anna is outstanding: funny, sharp, and conveying the vulnerabilities of her character with great skill. Liv Hill as Jane is tender and unassuming, yet quietly formidable; she holds a power that she does not seem to access until later in the play, and in doing so, reminds the audience how effortlessly a kind woman can be underestimated and exploited. Tanya Reynolds as Mariella is heartbreakingly affecting, illuminating the profound emotional and psychological resilience required of women navigating such precarious times.

Photography: Helen Murray

As for the men, George Kemp and Oliver Johnstone, what to say? As a reviewer and theatre enthusiast, this critic was utterly captivated. As a woman in her early twenties, she felt sick. These two, with comparatively little stage time, tore through the lives of the women around them like a force of nature and left nothing standing (metaphorically speaking; I won't spoil the show).

Kemp and Johnstone deserve particular attention, not least because the ease with which they inhabit these roles is, in itself, unsettling. There is no pantomime villainy here: no signposting of ill intent. Both men play their parts with an almost cheerful plausibility, and it is precisely that plausibility that makes them so difficult to watch. The audience is given no comfortable distance from which to condemn them. They are not monsters. They are ordinary, and Kemp and Johnstone understand, with considerable skill, that this is the most damning thing they could possibly be for the women around them.

This is going to sound severe, but this play could not have been written by anyone other than a woman. Nobody else could have rendered the experience of being gaslit by a more powerful man with quite this degree of understanding. Pickett grasps, with a precision that is both admirable and quietly devastating, that the most insidious aspect of patriarchal power is not its violence but its ordinariness - the ease with which it disguises itself as concern, as desire, as community.

This isn't a political piece. Except it is, in every sense of the word - and Pickett makes sure you feel every inch of that contradiction. 1536 is the kind of theatre that stays with you not because it is loud, but because it is precise. And precision, when it comes to stories like this one, is the most radical thing of all. This play will go down in history as a turning point in modern theatre, mark my words. This should and will be studied for its remarkable skill in simultaneously making a whole room feel genuinely moved.

Production Value: 95%

Value For Money: 90%

Personal Enjoyment: 100%

Overall Score: 95% - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (5*)

(AD | gifted in exchange for an honest review)

Show Information

Venue: Ambassadors Theatre, London

Playing Until: 1st August 2026

Run Time: Approximately 1h50 (no interval)

Tickets can be purchased from this link.