Pretty Witty Nell. Barons Court Theatre.

Aside perhaps from parts of Mike Bartlett’s recent faux-Restoration comedy Scandaltown, writer and director Ryan J-W Smith seems to have pretty much cornered the market in modern day plays written in rhyming iambic pentameter. It is, to be fair, a niche occupation, but it is one at which Smith demonstrates obvious talent. His spoof Shakespeare comedies Loves Labours Won and Sweet Love Adieu won fringe plaudits on both sides of the Atlantic, as did his more serious collection of sonnets. His latest work, Pretty, Witty Nell, a 50-minute one-woman bioplay about the life of actress and courtesan Nell Gwynne, lacks dramatic heft, but is enjoyable, nonetheless. Think an adult version of a Horrible Histories sketch, replete with manic momentum, fart jokes, and bawdy restoration-style, double-entendres.

Pretty, Witty Nell charts Gywnne’s life from her birth and upbringing in a brothel, to life as a street-hawker, to budding fame as one of the first female actors and subsequent triumph as Charles II’s mistress. As a history lesson it works efficiently. Smith paints Gwynne as a tough, wily, proto-feminist, tart with a heart and the mouth of a sewer. One suspect the reality was perhaps more complex. As a mouthpiece for some deftly written verse this Nell largely suffices, but you may leave the theatre feeling the true nature of the protagonist remains vexingly vague.

What is lacking in the storyline is much in the way of dramatic tension. Hannah Attfield rattles through the script at the speed of a runaway racehorse. The momentum is deliberately light-hearted and comedic, but events get lost in the sheer rush to get the tale told. Smith has a knack for verse, and it would be nice to savour a little more of it.

Narrative flaws aside, Attfield has oodles of charisma and is clearly enjoying herself on stage. She also demonstrates a notable talent for broad mimicry. Her Nell, bedecked in black boots, tight-fitting bodice, and vivid purple dress, is cooky cockney with an Eastenders vibe. She plays Charles II as a camp womaniser with a “woyally wampant” lisp and a tendency to hold a little finger to the mouth, rather like Mini-Me in the Austin Powers’ movies. Her turn as Nell’s long-time punter Lord Buckhurst is all Jacob Rees-Mogg in full-on mansplaining mode. The actor even gets an impromptu and much merited round of applause for her Scots’ accent – long, deep, base vowels and infinitely rolling rhotic rs. It is quite a performance.

Writer and Director: Ryan J-W Smith