The timing of James Graham’s Labour of Love at Questors Theatre, could not be better, taking place in the week of significant local and national elections.
Set in a dreary constituency office close to the Nottinghamshire village where Graham grew up, it charts the career of fictitious politician, long time Labour MP David Lyons and his professional and personal relationship with his constituency manager, Jean Whittaker.
When the action begins, we are immediately catapulted into the angst and stress of the early hours of June 9th, 2017, where Lyons is on the verge of losing a seat that, so we are told, has been historically so safe that even a sausage sandwich would get elected if adorned with Labour colours. Not this time though. The result is on an absolute knife edge as we await the second recount. The sense of a “fin de siècle” in both personal and political terms is all pervading.
This play is a multilayered one, with an unusual structure.
In the first act, we move swiftly back through time to 1990.where David first stands as prospective MP, and his awkward, initially testy relationship with Jean, whom he persuades to stay on as his constituency agent and manager begins.
We are introduced to the rest of the characters that will frame and affect David’s life. Firstly, there is his clever, rather snooty, socially and professionally ambitious wife Elizabeth (Victoria Smith), who knew Cherie Blair at college and who sees their future more in the centre of Metropolitan political life than in a Nottinghamshire mining town.
We also encounter Len Prior (Anthony Curran), the dedicated traditionalist and long-established leader of the local Labour Council; not forgetting zealous and hard-working party worker Margot Midler (Michelle Openibo). In this first act they appear to be well drawn ciphers, supporting the characters of the main protagonists in their various guises, the very New Labour wife, the very old labour party apparatchik, and the committed faithful party supporter.
However, as the second act (which takes us forward in time from 1990 to that definitive night in June 2017), progresses, these stock characters morph into real people whose stories shape the experiences of David and Jean.
Elizabeth has seen her dreams of becoming the perfect New Labour aspirational couple, riding high in Westminster political circles, fade, as her husband’s ambitions change direction. Len’s ideological dislike of the MP foisted upon him by Central Office becomes more visceral and personal, whilst Margot changes from a slightly naïve youngster, outraged by the loss of jobs in her locality, to a more politically savvy and confident campaigner.
However, this play is all about the bumpy, fractious relationship between David and Jean, the ambitious New Labour MP and his agent, and uncompromising idealistic, resolute holder of traditional, old school Labour values.
As we travel back to the early Nineties, and then forward again over a quarter of a century, the characters articulate bicker, argue and defend their conflicting political ideologies.
In short, in David and Jean we have the personification of the social, economic and political dichotomies that have characterised the struggle of the Labour movement over the past 35 years.
The provincial Nottinghamshire town in which the play is set serves as a microcosm of, and symbol for, the drastic societal and economic changes undergone by much of Britain, especially Northern Britain, over its 27-year duration. We see how its once employment-rich mining and quarrying industry gave way to a digital data bank which, facing closure itself, necessitates some desperate overtures being made to a tram building Chinese entrepreneur.
We have here a powerful illustration of the decline of a community desperately trying to reinvent itself in a world without the mining and heavy industries that sustained it for over a century; a metaphor for the Labour Party itself, with its heartland towns and cities being hollowed out, seeing its values and heart threatened, replaced with something shiny, new but potentially rootless and insecure.
However, while the mood may have melancholy moments, the tone is not. The play is often funny, witty and bitingly satirical, peppered with one-liners and jokes; for example, when David pointedly asks Jean why the reformers chose the symbol of a rose to rebrand Labour, she sardonically replies: “Because it looks pretty but it’s full of pricks.”
A well-executed farcical misuse of aerosol cream for scones and spray on deodorant is also timed to perfection. Politicos in the audience found much to react to and enjoy, with both historical and very topical allusions sprinkled into the dialogue.
Yet, at its heart, Labour of Love is a burgeoning love story, a study of a changing connection between two people who eventually recognise that the intellectual and personal ties that hold them together are more durable than the pressures placed upon them by the vicissitudes of political upheaval. A surprisingly touching portrait of a scratchily lively, combative relationship always based upon mutual dependence and grudging respect.
Ant Foran, as David Lyons, gives us a man whose enthusiasm for the New Labour experiment is based upon his conviction that the only way to effect real change is to assume power, which means making compromises with the belief systems of traditional Labour orthodoxy. He wants to deliver change, not shout about it from the sidelines of Opposition. There is also more than a hint of wishing to transform his safe seat into a jumping off point for career progression. As we move forward in time, we see him struggle with the realisation that his grandiose ambitions have come to naught, and that his political career is about to end. Quo Vadis for David Lyons…and New Labour?
In the first act, Foran’s characterisation was studied and thoughtful, even at times ponderous, lacking the snap and the crackle needed to propel the feistiness of his exchanges with Jean. His confidence grew in the second act, and he became livelier in his declamations and pacier with his responses, controlling the dialogue rather than reacting to it. His tap dancing was pretty good too…
Isabel Barbuk adroitly and convincingly captures Jean Whittaker’s passion, her prickly wit, her underlying allegiance and devotion to the Labour Party and her belief that, whatever their differences, her duty as a constituency agent lies in loyalty to her MP. In addition to her quirky abrupt witticisms and sarcastic barbs there is always a suggestion of vulnerability lying just below her feisty surface. A compelling and nuanced portrayal.
The set adds to the verisimilitude of the piece. The cluttered office is replete with appropriate time capsule props, including a working photocopier, a fax machine and a huge computer that takes up most of the desk space.
Transitions are efficiently achieved via the use of an overhead screen replaying news footage of key political moments interspersed with film of Lyons canvassing and making constituency visits.
This enables subtle changes to the basic construct of, and appearance to, the set emphasising the passage of time; particularly notable was the changing of election posters with photos of leaders, from Neil Kinnock to Ed Miliband.
Labour of Love, winner of the Olivier award for Best Comedy in 2018 is a well-crafted and wittily written play from a playwright with major successes under his belt, including successful West End runs featuring analyses of the Rupert Murdoch newspaper empire (Ink), the corridors of Westminster (This House) and Gareth Southgate’s football management (Dear England).
It not only accurately describes the historic ups and downs of the Labour Party but also provides an entertaining warts and all portrait of the people behind the politics.
In its depiction of the turbulent, argumentative and rumbunctious relationship between David and Jean, many critics have referred to echoes of Beatrice and Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing, and there is much to warrant this description; the more they quarrel and squabble, the greater becomes the awareness of the chemistry between them.
Bringing theatrical analogies a little bit more up to date, there is also more than a hint of Brief Encounter in David and Jean’s denial of their growing closeness, hiding not so much behind the social mores of the time, but the demands of political loyalty and affiliation.
To return to Shakespearean metaphors, Questors have given us a production that, throughout the twists and turns of its narrative, ensures that a love of Labour is never entirely lost.
Review by Johnny Oxford
For 27 years, Labour MP David Lyons and his agent Jean have clashed – his puppyish enthusiasm and centrist politics versus her left-leaning cynicism. Their merry war has played out over the highs and lows of the Labour party’s political fortunes. You could call them the Beatrice and Benedick of the ballot box.
Expect devastating one-liners, political treachery and moments of pure farce in this startlingly funny play. Winner of the Olivier Award for Best New Comedy, Labour of Love is a wonderfully entertaining glimpse into the people behind the politics.
LABOUR OF LOVE
The Questors Theatre
1 to 9 May 2026
