“Mrs President” at Charing Cross Theatre

Photography by Pamela Raith

My Theatre Confidences 🤫

“Mrs President” by John Ransom Phillips

Charing Cross Theatre until 16 March

The play reimagines the turbulent legacy of Mary Todd Lincoln by centring on her controversial visits to the studio of famed photographer Mathew Brady. In a narrative oscillating between stark historical moments and surreal, dreamlike sequences, Mary fights to reclaim a public identity marred by personal tragedy and relentless historical judgment. The production’s ambition is to tackle themes of power, identity, and female agency, questioning who truly gets to shape history—and at what cost. Miriam Grace Edwards delivers a committed, emotionally resonant portrayal of a woman striving to redefine herself, yet its disjointed narrative and overblown and artificial “stylistic” excesses deflate the emotional potency it strives to deliver.

I was struck by how deeply the white male middle-class perspective shaped the story, never once pausing to question its own privilege. Watching Mrs President, I wasn’t just frustrated by how Mary’s story was handled—I was frustrated by how theatre itself was used as a vehicle for self-indulgence, with privilege splashed across the stage, unchecked and unexamined. There was no real reflection, no awareness of its own lens—just a performance wrapped in its own self-importance.

Credit: Pamela Raith

I won’t spend many words detailing the fundamental failure to engage with the basics of theatre writing—a craft that should challenge itself, not serve as a vehicle for unchecked privilege and self-indulgence. But when an art form is exploited for an unnecessary and uninspiring personal ego, the result is chaos and a glaring lack of depth. Having nothing substantive to say yet being given a platform to showcase one's ego is frustrating enough—wasting significant resources to do so is even worse. The play’s reliance on artificial, overly complex language to disguise its emptiness—forcing depth where none exists—only reinforces its detachment from meaningful theatre.

Throughout the show, I found myself repeatedly asking, “Yo, who’s paying for this?” Because, frankly, I can connect you with amazing writers and directors who will deliver the profound depth and meaning that this stage so desperately needs!

No art form should be reduced to a vanity project, yet Mrs President feels exactly that—self-indulgence disguised as historical reclamation. In attempting to give voice to a forgotten figure, it instead amplifies the very inequities it claims to challenge. Its chaotic execution and unexamined privilege serve as a stark reminder that ambition alone is not enough—true theatre demands humility, depth, and a real urgency to tell stories that matter.

Credit: Pamela Raith

---

A quick note on my reflections on the shows I see:

Let’s be clear: you won’t find the typical “review” on my page. I don’t buy into the so-called objectivity of mainstream theatre criticism; it’s outdated and protects toxic power structures while sidelining marginalised voices. I’m not objective, and I’m proud of it. I’ve got my own lenses. My reflections are personal, shaped by my lived experiences and values. I share what moved me, what challenged me, and what’s worth talking about; not ticking boxes or handing out stars.

And no, I’m not going to describe the whole plot or list every onstage moment; I find that mind-numbingly boring, both to write and to read.

Giuliano x

---

My Way of Looking at Theatre

You know, the more I think about it, the clearer it becomes that traditional theatre criticism has often been a tool for maintaining existing power structures.

It’s time to drop the privileged fancy talk around theatre and break free from star ratings.

---

---

Discover exclusive promo codes for handpicked shows

I love and recommend

---