Words by India Farnham
Have you ever felt the weight of family disappointment? Perhaps you exist in the shadow of a gloriously accomplished older sibling, or have made some questionably frown-inducing decisions.
Well, you may be delighted to know that it could be worse. A lot worse.
The family of Henry Cyril Paget (the 5th Marquis of Anglesey, he’ll have you know) were so ashamed of Henry’s short life that they tried to expunge every trace of him from history in a blaze of burning letters, diaries and papers.
What did Henry do to deserve this radical deletion from memory? Well, he simply inherited one of the largest fortunes in history and then squandered it all on putting on fantastical plays always starring himself and then touring them around the country in eye-wateringly expensive diamond encrusted gowns. Yeah, just that.
Now, arriving on our doorstep just as the city warms up for Pride festival, and marking 150 years since Henry was born, Seiriol Davies’ much-acclaimed three-hander musical How To Win Against History resurrects Henry from the ashes, winding back time and letting the man himself control the narrative.
We meet the tragically privileged Henry just after the death of his mother (“I’m lonely, but I am rich!”), but before you can say ‘unhealed inner child’, he’s been bundled up and sent off to Eton. With enough jokes about class and sexuality to keep you in an endless loop of giggles (“Eton! Where we’ll learn dressage! And oppression! …Oppressage!”), and just enough audience participation to keep things lively, without sending any British sensibilities into a full-blown panic, we find ourselves at the next stage of Henry’s life: the marriage bit.
Ah yes, marriage. That thing you do when you really love a woman. Who may or may not be your cousin. From this genuinely moving snapshot of a lavender marriage, we move straight to the most notorious portion of Henry’s life, the part where actor Matthew Blake transforms into the supercilious Mr Alexander Keith, a man whose occupation – acting – enthrals Henry, who is desperate to express himself and be seen, and believes performing to an audience might allow this to happen. Perhaps putting on a play will be just the tonic.
But when on opening night, no audience are there to see Henry’s performance, what is he to do then? If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to see it, did it really fall? Or is it standing proud and tall, validated and respected among its woodland of peers?
At the centre of this deliciously rambunctious 90-minute romp is Seiriol Davies as Henry, who first performed this musical nearly a decade ago at Edinburgh Fringe. Child-like, vulnerable, and blindly optimistic, Davies’ Henry is not the narcissistic nepo-baby you might have imagined. In fact, positioned next to the skilful Blake, who twists and turns in and out of characters before our eyes, and the delightfully assured Dylan Townley as the Maestro, the legend of Henry Cyril Paget vanishes and we meet a man, who, like most of us, is simply trying to work out who he is.
Bookended by a tongue-in-cheek number that claims “This is mainstream entertainment, Olivia Coleman could be in this”, How To Win Against History knows musical theatre isn’t for everyone, and it doesn’t care. In that way, it boasts the one thing its star never managed to grasp: a sense of self.
You see, there’s a truth here that can’t be concealed in diamonds, wigs and powder. This is just the story of one person’s history being erased, but how many more glittering stories are still waiting to be told?
Finding a home in the ever-inclusive Bristol Old Vic until 12 July, How To Win Against History is a much-needed reminder that Queer history is just history. And in the years since the original production premiered, this is a message that has become more and more important to reiterate.
Henry, if you’re somehow reading this, we see you. Hundreds of people do. And this is about to be the best 150th birthday party you could ever imagine.
How To Win Against History is showing at Bristol Old Vic until 12 July. Book tickets here.
Images: Pamela Raith
