Review of the last stage outing for Jim Hacker and Sir Humphrey Appleby

Is it a good idea to revive Yes Prime Minister, the defining political sitcom of the Thatcher era, for one final chapter?

Well, as the obfuscating civil servant Sir Humphrey Appleby might say: ’As far as we can see, looking at it by and large, taking one thing with another then in the final analysis it is probably true to say, that at the end of the day, in general terms, you would probably find that, not to put too fine a point on it, there probably wasn’t very much in it one way or the other as far as one can see, at this stage.’

Top of the pros column is the delight in revisiting these much-loved characters, with some wonderful comic sparring between ex-Prime Minister Jim Hacker and his old Cabinet Secretary, alongside thoughtful, elegiac musings on the loss of relevance, influence and social networks in old age, as very keenly felt by two people who were once top of their chosen greasy poles.

In the cons column, the script, by the now 82-year-old Jonathan Lynn, creator of the original with the late Antony Jay, is rather heavy-handed on the cancel culture debate and regurgitating old Brexit arguments without much purpose.

We catch up with Hacker seeing out his twilight years as master of an Oxford college he helped set up, reluctantly coming to terms with his ailing faculties. He needs to recruit a care worker, and of course ends up with a young, black, lesbian to counter his hide-bound worldview.

He thought he had tenure for life, but it transpires that he said a few things that made the student body turn against him just as much as his physical one and demand his resignation. In need of a master manipulator able to bend reality, he calls on his former frenemy, Sir Humphrey, given that his political aide Sir Bernard Woolley has now gone to the great division lobby in the sky.

The casting here is excellent. Griff Rhys Jones captures the Hacker’s essence of being amiable people-pleaser yet prone to prickliness when challenged. And as Sir Humphrey, Clive Francis is urbane and slippery, and delivers those tottering edifices of evasive civil-service verbiage that was such a defining facet of the original sitcom. Both are close enough to the spirits of Paul Eddington and Nigel Hawthorne – who are deservedly given a salute in the curtain call alongside original Sir Bernard Derek Fowlds – without being hollow impersonations. 

As care worker Sophie, Stephanie Levi-John, right, adds likeabilty, intelligence and depth to a character Lynn already wrote with a few more levels than mere woke counterpoint.

The script for this valedictory play  – which premiered in 2023 at the Barn Theatre in Chichester before this belated West End transfer – still pokes fun at the pomposity and patrician entitlement at the heart of British Establishment, albeit rather fondly. Any threat to that still world order feels distant, even if Hacker is feeling 'politically correct’ forces breathing down his neck. 

While the wit is not consistent and the plot flimsy, there are a couple of delightful visual gags, a sprinkling of pithy political observations and more than enough sparky exchanges to delight those who remember the TV original and the time when politics was still gentlemanly, at least superficially. Even newcomers should see evidence enough of why Yes Minister is  still so fondly remembered, even if its bite is now a little gummy.

• I'm Sorry, Prime Minister is playing at the Apollo Theatre in London until May 9. Tickets

Review date: 15 Feb 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Apollo Theatre