Brighton Fringe comedy review

Like a Temu Horrible Histories, Monarchs Anonymous looks great, but turns out to be a shoddily put-together knock-off of the original. 

In terms of premise, Sky’s Psychobitches might be a more accurate frame of reference, since both involve supposedly misunderstood historical characters undergoing modern-day therapy – but the stage show comes off badly whatever you compare it to.

Gathered in a group therapy session are Henry VIII, Charles II, Maria Antoinette, Mali’s Mansa Musa I – one of history’s wealthiest people but forgotten in Europe today  –  and the monarch-adjacent Sophia Duleep Singh, the Indian princess who was Queen Victoria’s goddaughter and here depicted as a neophyte suffragette.

This session, led by real-life historian and content creator Kat Marchant in the guise of Dr Thompson, has the motley crew participate in various therapy exercises, all undermined by their clashing egos. There’s a lot of noisy bickering, but not much narrative beyond them riling each other. Nor are there many jokes, apparently in the belief that crotchety ribaldry is enough, though Charlie (Joshua Poole) a couple of double entendres a Carry On writer might baulk at for being too cheesy. 

Some supposed intrigue is sprinkled into the mix about why Tutankhamun has bailed on the sessions and whether he’s leaked their existence to an anti-monarchist press, though this is never a compelling enough strand that you care about any mole being exposed.

The script isn’t sure whether to allow anachronisms or not. Henry VIII talks about ‘the elephant in the room’ but doesn’t know what a celebrity is. Charles II is apparently surprised to learn that the public isn’t always enamoured of the monarchy – which you’d think he’d be well aware of given what happened to his dad. And they reveal that they somehow sort-of know what Tinder is, when they try to get into Thompson’s phone. In this moment Henry (William Harry Mitchell) complains about images being deceptive, the best gag in the show if you know a little history.

Despite its apparent ambition to show these rulers in a new light, the characters are all one-dimensional pantomime characters, especially the  three most famous royals. And despite the constant complaints no one knows about Musa, you’ll emerge with no other knowledge than his existence and that he’s been dubbed ‘the richest person ever’. 

The exception is probably Singh (Rachael Reshma), an intriguing bag of contradictions who deserves a play of her own (and indeed got one last year) which are fleshed out a little here. Perhaps as one of the lesser-known members of the group she doesn’t have to fit preconceptions, beyond that of militant suffragette.

The cast are decent when they step back from the broad fighting-for-attention demands of the script, with George Eggay as Musa the stand-out. And the costumes are very impressive.

Overlong speechifying towards the end weighs up the pros and cons of monarchy as opposed to elected heads of state, and how you can hate the royalist system but empathise with the human beings who are royals, more complicated than the superficial figures of school history lessons. Covering all their bases suggests the writers – Poole with Nadia and Lyon Devereux – are sitting on the fence, unsure of the key message they want to convey.

But Monarchs Anonymous is not funny enough for comedy, not emotive enough for drama, and too superficial for education. It’s a right royal mess.

Review date: 6 May 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Brighton Rotunda Theatre