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★★★★★ Elizabeth Taylor remains one of Hollywood’s most enduring figures — a star whose life was as dramatic as the films she made. Call Me Elizabeth: From Lassie to Cleopatra leans into that legacy from the first moment, offering an intimate portrait rather thanth a glossy biographical sweep. This production is Part One of the Call Me Elizabeth series, tracing Taylor’s journey from her early screen roles through to Cleopatra. The story continues separately in Part Two — Call Me Elizabeth: From Burton to Humanitarian — which follows her later life, her relationship with Richard Burton, and her evolution into a global humanitarian figure.
Presented by Guy Masterson, an Olivier Award winner and long‑time Fringe presence, and directed by Michael Weber, the production brings Taylor’s private world into sharp, confessional focus.
Masterson’s involvement adds a particular charge: as the nephew of Richard Burton, he carries a direct connection to one of the most famous romances in film history. The show acknowledges Burton’s stature early on, grounding the narrative in the emotional and artistic gravity he brought to Taylor’s life. It’s a subtle but effective framing choice.
At the centre of the production is Kayla Boyce, delivering a solo performance that moves fluidly between glamour, vulnerability and exhaustion. Boyce guides the audience through Taylor’s relationships, marriages and the relentless scrutiny that came with fame. She captures the emotional weight of living under constant public attention — the failed marriages, the pressure to accept roles out of obligation, and the creeping desire to step away from the spotlight entirely.
What makes Boyce’s performance compelling is the specificity: a shift in tone when discussing Burton, a brittle laugh when recalling studio demands, a quiet pause when admitting she longed for a life that wasn’t defined by cameras and contracts. These moments give the show its emotional spine.
Weber’s direction keeps the staging close and uncluttered, creating a living‑room intimacy that suits the material. It feels as though Taylor has invited the audience into her private space — not for spectacle, but for honesty. The script is tight and purposeful, allowing Boyce to inhabit Taylor without slipping into impersonation or caricature. The pacing is measured, giving the emotional beats room to breathe.
This is a thoughtful, engaging portrait of a woman who lived her life in the brightest of spotlights and paid the price for it. Boyce is convincing throughout, and the production’s intimacy is its greatest strength.
A standout of this year’s programme.
Reviewed by Jacqueline Sharp
