Edinburgh Fringe 2026

Henry VIII And His Groom

OMF Theatre

Genre: Comedy, Historical, Theatre

Venue: Paradise in the Vault

Festival: Edinburgh Fringe

Low Down

Review

What is it about the British that they find the toilet such a source of humour?  The humble latrine serves as a mundane and functional item to most but to the British it’s the basis of a whole culture.  This fascination with faeces probably explains why there’s a queue at an unearthly hour (for Fringe goers at least) outside Paradise In The Vault’s venue for OMF Theatre’s Henry VIII and His Groom, an intimate exploration of the relationship between the Tudor monarch and the gentleman charged with overseeing the royal bowel movements.  And other bodily functions, the description of which is best left to the imagination.

The gentle strains of Greensleeves play in the background as Sir William Compton, Groom of The Stool (to bestow the full title upon the poor sod charged with keeping the royal bottom clean and tidy) to Henry VIII, hails the regal looking royal stool sitting centre stage, in full view of us all.

No, no, not that kind of stool!  The kind you sit on, you numpty, a stool covered in red velvet with a seat that allows what comes out to drop swiftly below.  It’s a form of portable commode, the Tudor equivalent of those modern Japanese toilets with heated seats and jets of water that ensure your ablutions are completed with dignity, or as much of that commodity as it is possible to retain whilst undertaking this essential bodily function.

But the royal Groom (played here with conviction and excellent comic timing by Tony Bligh) was much more than a mere bottom wiper – his extensive personal access meant he acted as a confidant of the King, providing discreet assistance as appropriate and privy to the royal musings and vulnerabilities.  Discretion on the part of both is a sine qua non – as both Henry and William remind themselves, “what’s said on the stool stays on the stool”.  Such discretion brings rewards too, for, as his relationship develops with the King, so William benefits from the monarch’s increasing patronage.

The storyline follows Henry in the early part of his reign as he seeks a male heir, essential to ensure his legacy.  The “smallest room” becomes the centre of what is a gently amusing and informative account of William’s service from Henry’s accession in 1509 until Compton’s retirement in 1526, at least avoiding the fate of one later office holder who lost his head as well as his job.

Greg Winders plays an appropriately regal Henry – or as regal as a monarch can be with his breeks around his ankles so often.  Yet there are some surprisingly tender moments between the two men, despite the glaring imbalance of power.  Winders also supplied the sharp script, one that sprinkled a generous amount of double entendre, innuendo, plays on words and puns across the narrative, keeping the plot rolling and the audience amused.  Credit too, for the obvious chemistry between Winders and Bligh, the mercurial moods of the former deftly parried by unctuous tones of the latter in what seemed like a never ending game of verbal tennis.

But the show’s star is surely that splendid royal stool.  Its near-constant centre-stage presence becomes a joke in itself, while the repeated deployment of a smiley-faced sponge on a pole — long enough to reach every appropriate royal nook and cranny — never fails to raise a titter, especially given the way Bligh wiggled it.

Surviving as the Groom was like walking a tightrope – one wrong answer and it could be curtains.  Much safer to play the sycophant by replying “What would you like my advice to be?” to whatever question is asked.  Now that’s what today’s absolute rulers want to hear.

An amusing topic, vividly told.  And lots of toilet humour.  How typically British.  How typically Fringe.

Published August 27, 2026August 27, 2026 by Tim Wilcock