It’s a serious business, politics. A tough one too, especially in the twenty-first-century maelstrom of fevered 24-hour debate, thrust and counter thrust, all played out under the pitiless gaze of social media, where every action, every utterance is meticulously analysed.
We have come a long way from the sepia-tinted middle decades of the last century, when political analysis consisted of immaculately suited interviewers tentatively asking “Is there anything else you would like to tell us, Prime Minister”, and MPs, like police officers, doctors and lawyers were remote, lofty and highly respected individuals.
This is not the world of Craig Kitman, a newly elected MP following the political landslide that swept Labour to power in the 2024 General Election. He is discovering what life in the foothills of British politics is really like, drowning under a sea of demands and pressures from his constituents, his Party Whip, the changing tides of political fortunes and relentless social media exposure.
As the lights go up on Kitman, slumped at his untidy desk festooned with post-it notes, scraps of paper, a few Labour rosettes, a glowing, demanding laptop, and a bottle of House of Commons labelled whisky, he is assailed by non-stop phone messages throbbing and new, urgent emails pinging.
Kitman has the look of a startled rabbit in headlights, not knowing what to address first. His world has become reduced to a joyless cycle of voting for things he doesn’t understand, assailed by constituents he can’t really help, a nagging sense of failure and an inability to reconcile his current state of mind with the all too brief euphoria of being elected to help build a new future for Britain, different from the failures of the past. The bottle of Scotch is never far away.
Craig Kitman has long since lost his idealism and innocence. His initial, post-election enthusiasm and intensity have metamorphosed into an angst-ridden sense of inadequacy, despair and acute physical and mental tiredness.
And that’s not all. An enterprising and indefatigable journalist, Abi McCormack, who has had Kitman’s number from the start, has discovered his recent tryst with a sex worker, and the story is about to break. Things might just get a lot worse for the Member for Bolton East…
As the hour progresses, we learn a lot about Craig Kitman. His archetypal middle-class upbringing and education, a (very) minor public school, and university. His political journey from student activist to party worker to prospective candidate and, eventually, his successful campaign to be elected. He is candid about his experiences to date in the Palace of Westminster, his feelings of physical and political disorientation in the first few months of his new career, ironically assuaged somewhat by his friendship with a Tory MP.
We learn about his failed marriage, the effects of his grandfather’s suicide and his musings on his own mortality. He takes us through his post-marriage dating experiences, culminating in an ill-judged assignation with a professional escort, and his concerns about what this might mean for his future career.
A lot is rather haphazardly packed into an hour.
Ben May is all alone on stage in his portrayal of Craig Kitman, and his performance is confident and nuanced. Engaging, affable and endearingly self-deprecating, May pulls no punches in his characterisation, and effectively communicates the downward plunge that Kitman experiences as the grinding boredom and ceaseless repetition of constituency work and the effort of continually toeing the changing party-political line takes its toll. There is more than a hint of Kitman’s moral ambiguity as he seeks to reconcile his expectations with the actuality of his life and career.
Yet this is done in a relatively upbeat way, and a number of smiles and murmurs of appreciative recognition are garnered throughout the course of the performance. The narrative is liberally sprinkled with current political issues, and there are waspish remarks aimed at the current political situation, and some of the characters and parties which are headline news. As the play develops, some of these references may need to be amended and altered to keep it fresh and relevant. The political-savvy audience at The Lion and Unicorn Theatre certainly enjoyed the observations and sallies thrown out by Kitman.
Whilst Ben May does a fine job, the construct of the narrative is uneven. The main thrust of the piece is the disillusionment of Kitman with his life and the concerns he has for his future, but this is a one-dimensional, one-trick pony tale, and the plot needs other avenues to be further developed to round out the narrative properly. The story of Kitman’s date with the escort is well fleshed out, but it is not taken to its ultimate conclusion; what will the journalist do with her story? How will Kitman respond? What effect might this have on Kitman’s career as an MP? How might Kitman find a new accommodation with the current political constellation? Will he change his life? All of these questions are tantalisingly raised but not satisfactorily followed through. Whilst not all questions can be answered in an hour’s set, the lack of any climax or denouement is frustrating and leaves the engaged audience in limbo at the conclusion.
That being said, The Red Prince is an engaging piece of theatre, which raises some interesting questions about loneliness, feelings of professional and personal inadequacy, disillusionment and dissatisfaction amongst our elected representatives, and a plea for us all to be a little bit more tolerant and kinder; to judge less and empathise more. After all, as this production underlines wittily yet forcefully, even politicians are human.
Review by Johnny Oxford
Craig Kitman MP didn’t sign up for this.
It’s been 18 months since Labour’s “loveless landslide” swept him into Parliament. 18 months of voting for things he doesn’t understand. Constituents he can’t help. Abuse. Failure. Late-night drinking sessions.
And so we find him.
One man. One constituency office. Wondering how he got here – and how the hell he gets out.
Then, terrier-like journo Abi McCormack calls. Things are about to get a lot worse…
Benjamin May – Craig Kitman MP
Written by Tim Dawson
Directed by Susan Nickson
THE RED PRINCE
Lion & Unicorn Theatre
24 February to 7 March 2026
