We Happy Few follows a seven-woman amateur troupe as it travels the country’s schools and village greens during World War II playing a repertoire of Shakespeare and other classics. Disasters happen, triumphs occur, but above all the show must go on.
This is a promising play that loses its way and goes on far too long. The playwright is desperate for us to like her characters, so she pads the script out with anecdotes to show that these 1940s characters share 21st century values (principally anti-racism and gay tolerance) with implausible unanimity.
If Stubbs had been an unknown playwright rather than an already a famous and (rightly) revered actor, she would have been told to edit the script, sharpen it up and add a bit more conflict. Instead, the play often descends into sentimentality. Meanwhile the characters are assembled from a shopping list of period stereotypes.
That's not to say that there's nothing good here – there certainly is – but the play spends too much time wallowing in its own self-regard and earnestness while parading its liberal credentials. Even though I lean the same way politically, I go to the theatre to have my world-view challenged, not caressed.