Cousins Rivals Queens

The imprisonment and execution of Mary, Queen of Scots by her cousin, Queen Elizabeth I, was one of the defining moments in Tudor history, and has fascinated countless history buffs ever since. Cousins Rivals Queens, a play told in two parts, tries to dissect their intriguing relationship by setting up two opposing monologues told on alternating days, but succeeds only in turning this vibrant epoch into a lifeless and cumbersome affair.

On entering the soulless, converted conference room in The Space @ The Thistle, we’re confronted with a solo male performer, dressed head to toe in Elizabethan regalia, completed by a ruff and white-painted face. As Elizabeth, his garb is crisp white, bejewelled in a rainbow of gems; as Mary, he is dressed head to toe in black, with bright patches of scarlet red adding an element of sensationalism to the atmosphere.

It’s these changes in attire that are the only real difference to the manner in which he plays the characters of Elizabeth and Mary; their individual personalities dissolve into one, tight-lipped, expressionless and ahistoric figure. Both Queens soliloquise on their lives, retelling their stories in patchy detail, faltering prose and with a bizarre, incomprehensible omniscience. There’s sparse liveliness in the performer’s movements either: he remains rooted to one part of the stage during both performances, wringing his hands together and occasionally widening his arms to indicate events of gravity.

In the end, it’s only the period music, played at hushed volume from the speakers on either side of the stage, and the captivating changes in lighting that keep Cousins Rivals Queens from being a complete failure.