EdFringe Review: Annie Wobbler (Revisited)

Nicola McAuliffe returns to the Edinburgh Fringe with Annie Wobbler (Revisited). Decades after Arnold Wesker wrote the solo show specifically for her, the Olivier Award winner steps back into the material with complete authority. Following the playwright’s death in 2016, McAuliffe has also been at liberty to update the characters and to enact a structural reordering she long wished for, but could not execute while Wesker was alive.

Where the 1981 premiere effectively ‘de-aged’ its actor across three acts, this revival flips the clock forward; I concur with McAuliffe that this makes more narrative sense. We meet the women in a natural order, starting with Anna, a working-class student from a ‘black brick’ university. She makes for a winning opener—the lightest and most comedic turn of the night. Her insecurities over her social standing and value ring as true now as they did in 1981.

She might have a smartphone, but her energised introspection is timeless. Further, the wry dissections of her prospective date, whom she knows prefers his women rather less bright than himself, hit their targets with delicious precision.

Successful author Annabella Wharton follows, initially met after her first lucrative book sale, fond of a tipple, and somewhat tickled by success. She is a middle-brow author, purveyor of stories that flatter the reader, but in which she seeks to deliver no great message. She is, it seems, hiding her literary light under several bushes, ingenuous and intent on seeming harmless in response to James Naughtie’s recorded interview questions.

“Decades after Arnold Wesker wrote the solo show specifically for her, the Olivier Award winner steps back into the material with complete authority.“

When we encounter her again, four best-sellers later, she is a gym-hardened, no-prisoners-taken queen of the literary scene, out for “fame, money, and power”. She’s stuck in a different rut than her previous guise, or the others in the set—outwardly the most assertive, but still, one feels, damaged by her negotiations with a male-dominated industry.

Last comes the titular “Annie Wobbler”, the most life-limited of the three, and easily the most nuanced and sympathetic. A cockney maid of advancing years, she carries glowing references from past employers with pride, even though she cannot read them herself. Now she ‘does’ for a poor Jewish family (Wesker’s parents) in London’s East End. This Annie is a warm, loving portrait of a woman plucked from the writer’s memories. Eccentric and illiterate, she remains articulate enough to describe the strict limits of her existence. It’s a sad old life in some respects, but not one untouched by romance, or unappreciative of the better side of humanity.

Dramatic Quality and Transformation

Through all three monologues, Wesker sets out to map the female-lived condition across class divides, probing identity, self-neglect, and self-deprecation. It is a high aim, and the writing retains its bite, humour, and personal understanding of how people live. Yes, the plays could enjoy a little more intersection, but in re-ordering this trilogy, McAuliffe has improved the narrative flow.

Ultimately, this is not a Fringe show to miss. Personally speaking, it was a privilege to experience a performer as accomplished as Nichola McAuliffe in full flow. With acute physical control, sharp comedic timing, and sophisticated characterisation, Annie Wobbler (Revisited) is a masterclass in solo acting from an actor who hasn’t lost an ounce of her dramatic magnetism. The text may not be flawless, but its distinct, lasting virtues are magnificently leveraged in this worthy theatrical restoration.