Howard Brenton’s light, modern and somewhat airbrushed story of Anne Boleyn skims over events that justify more time and exploration. It also omits characters that played an important part in Anne’s life (her family and Thomas Cranmer, among others). Perhaps the playwright feels that the story is such a familiar one that it is unnecessary to rehash familiar themes (Catherine’s trial, Anne’s trial, and Anne’s execution). This is no Schiller-like intense political, religious epic that leaves the actors and audience utterly exhausted. This is historical theatre updated for the masses and the masses loved it. This reviewer, however, felt slightly short-changed, but then again I had a seat. Perhaps if I had been standing in the stalls, I would have been more grateful.
      Anne Boleyn is not the story of her life so much as the legacy of a “heroine of the Reformation.” The story is set within the context of James I of England’s desperate attempt to unite a country divided by religion. While rummaging through an old trunk that used to belong to Anne Boleyn, he discovers a copy of William Tyndale’s The Obedience of a Christian Man. Reading this book, James is strengthened in his resolve to unite the religions of England. After the Hampton Court Conference, he commissions The Authorized (King James) Version a new translation of approved books of the Bible, taken largely from William Tyndale’s translation, to resolve the disputes among the versions then being used.
      The scene then shifts back to 1525 and Henry VIII’s campaign to win Anne. This section focuses on two themes: Anne’s love for Henry and her passion for religious reform. Her future happiness with Henry depends on England rejecting the Catholic Church, the pope and his first wife Catherine of Aragon. Anne meets the Protestant Reformist, William Tyndale in secret and uses his interpretation of the Bible to persuade Henry to break with Rome and achieve his longed for divorce from Katherine. But the Reformation leads to Anne’s downfall. By breaking with Rome and bringing down Thomas Wolsey, Thomas Cromwell becomes all-powerful and is able to channel vast sums of money into his own purse. When Anne discovers what he has been up to, Cromwell moves quickly to silence her. She is tried and executed in three weeks.
      The efficient Cromwell (masterfully played by John Dougall, “We are what we do!”) is a supporter of William Tyndale and is this tale’s villain. Thomas Cranmer, the Boleyn family Chaplain, as newly installed Archbishop of Canterbury declared Henry and Anne's marriage valid. His subsequent failure to defend Anne from execution does not feature in this rendering of the familiar story. Cromwell and Cranmer seem to have been rolled into one.
      Perversely, Henry is exonerated of all blame. In this story, Henry has no idea that Anne is being tried and executed while he is off having a quiet weekend with Jane Seymour. It is as though the playwright wishes to preserve the Hollywood bubble of true love between King and Queen. Henry’s courting of Jane Seymour boils down to one moment where he seeks physical comfort directly after the birth of yet another still-born baby. The play sympathises with him while ignoring the uncompromising vanity that demanded a male heir and thus four more marriages. Nor does the play delve too deeply into Henry’s desire to have a male heir in order to avoid the dynastic wars that brought his own father to power.
      Although the text is patchy, the actors shine. The depth with which they imbue the characters makes up for any lack of drama in the plot. By turns comic and tyrannical, James Garnon is excellent as King James I and his larger-than-life performance fills the theatre. Miranda Raison is charming, witty, passionate and vulnerable as Anne. She is no WAG-like scheming madame as portrayed in recent HBO network productions. Her acting is deft, light and captivating – a noble achievement in the open-air Globe Theatre with helicopters buzzing overhead and party-boats zipping by on the river. Her final words entreat the audience (the “demons of the future”) to “live for love,” a pseudo-romantic John Lennon-esque phrase. Indeed this Anne is deeply in love with her King and he with her. Although highly intelligent, and politically aware, this Anne is not David Starkey’s “brutal and effective politician.”
      Although the story is not riveting, the modern language works. It yields little gems of comedy or beauty, such as Anne’s ghost describing Catherine as “a cow” and “a bitch.” Speaking of her execution, she tells how she was tricked to look one way as the sword came from the other and she heard it “sing in the air” before it fell.
      The trio of musicians in the gallery complement the production well and the music by William Lyons is superb.
Edward Glass