Lady Aria Grey’s one queen comedy of horrors is both spooky and hilarious.
“I’m not like a regular widow, I’m a cool widow”. If, like yours truly, anything that references Mean Girls ticks all your boxes then you’ll love Grey Widow, a one man (or, more accurately, one queen) play by Lady Aria Grey aka Callum Tilbury.
It’s a small and intimate setting at The Other Palace - but I wouldn’t call it cosy. Whether it’s the dimly lit stage or the possibility of audience participation (don’t worry fellow introverts - it’s minimal), there’s something about the atmosphere that yells macabre. While the play was originally booked as part of the cancelled Vault Festival, this feels like the perfect setting to watch a woman talk about killing her husband via BDSM. Sorry, spoilers.
We’re gathered to commiserate the death of Lady Aria’s husband, Lord Earl Grey (this is immediately my cup of tea… see what I did there?). Lady Aria Grey enters through the audience like the creepy ghost of a much younger and much hotter Margaret Thatcher, sighing with theatrical devastation. She knows how to captivate a crowd, to keep us listening intently. I can’t look away. She’s the complex character we all love: often funny, occasionally vulnerable and always evil. Yes, spoilers - Lady Aria Grey isn’t entirely human. Demons are lurking…
Talking of the supernatural, the writing is also scarily good. Every line has a purpose and every joke is smart without feeling pretentious. There’s harmony among light and dark, a balance between dexterity and relatability. And, when it could have the potential to become too intense, Lady Aria Grey sprays Lush perfume into the audience (“isn’t it just a bit much?”) or offers an unplanned little burp (“damn Lucozade”) and we relax again. On this small stage with fake candles, there’s the perfect balance between humour and darkness.
Grey Widow isn’t polished - it’s a work-in-progress. There are a few un-choreographed moments that slightly taint the magic, but this simply means the show must be seen again. Luckily, it’s at the King’s Head Theatre in April. You’d be a damn fool to miss it.
Tickets here.
Photography by Corinne Cumming
