With much bawdy song and dance, Swale bangs a playful feminist drum about the marginalisation of women; you don’t feel hectored, though. If I have a criticism, it’s that the play gets slightly lost in its theatrical back-stage world (lushly realised with great drapes of curtain and hanging fly-ropes by designer Hugh Durrant). There’s a lot of time given to the outraged Edward Kynaston (Greg Haiste), whose days of hogging the female parts are over, and there seem to be umpteen, fraught rehearsals of plays that a perpetually harassed John Dryden (Nicholas Shaw) is struggling to complete.  Even if we could do with more insight into the fevered politics of the age, we still get a considerable gist, much of it communicated, lightly, through character. David Sturzaker’s Charles has a neediness that belies his outward command and subtly evokes the insecurity of his regime. This is part of a new golden wave of history plays – the research is detailed but liberties are taken; a relatable emotional journey is paramount.  It’s impossible to adulate the whole cast, but mention must be made of Michelle Dotrice, pure comedy as Nell’s dresser, Sasha Waddell as a double-helping of rival mistresses, and Douglas Rintoul as the scheming Lord Arlington. Oh and little Milly, who almost steals the show as a cute spaniel called Oliver Cromwell. All in all, but finally down to the now A-list Arterton, this is a right royal treat. Go.  Nell Gwynn is at the Apollo Theatre, London until April 30. To book, visit tickets.telegraph.co.uk or call 0844 871 2118.
This West End transfer is the sort of stellar event that sends ripples through the theatrical cosmos, says Dominic Cavendish If the Restoration-era actress Nell Gwynn (1650-1687) was half as enchanting as Gemma Arterton makes her out to be in this gloriously funny and touching bio-drama, then it’s small wonder that Charles II became besotted with her.