The first time as tragedy; the second as farce: time-shifting 'Arden of Faversham' - Swan Theatre, RSC Friday 23 May 2014

Polly Findlay's new RSC production of the anonymous Renaissance play 'Arden of Faversham' shifts it from its usual 16th Century setting to a loosely 'modern' period.  Certainly, both Findlay (as director) and Zoe Svendsen (as dramaturg) are keen to emphasise contemporary parallels between the commodification of land, people and property then and now, and the shift of housewives from makers to consumers.  This time-shifting from the late 1500s to a modern but non-specific present day moment, seems to have thrown some reviewers, as if mentally adjusting from the outer gothic frames of the Swan theatre to a stage filled with the clutter of mass packaging for the contemporary consumer age (and fashions to match) makes the play text incomprehensible.  I'd argue that it is actually pretty easy to overlook lines that (rightly, for the 16th Century) make London feel a world away, since whatever London's proximity is now in terms of communications and travel, the capital can still feel a world away from provincial business and domestic life.  

Grumbly Michael Billington, didn't like the period shift at all. Personally, I feel a period setting in Elizabethan costume would likely appear similarly artificial.  Nevertheless, there are elements that feel as if they are overstating realisations about 'capitalism for beginners'.  Arden's business is the distribution of tacky ornaments, not least an endless supply of marineki neko, the gold Japanese beckoning cats, symbolic of prosperous good fortune (oh irony when a wall of them is unveiled after Arden is killed). Arden's employees are engaged in drudgery: endless, pointless, mechanised processes carried out by humans for no particular purpose of adding anything to the product, experience or success of anyone (except Arden himself).  Work sucks; bosses are narcissistic and greedy; everyone wants a prosperous and more convenient life: we get it, with bright flashy clothes to ram the point home.

Former butcher-boy Mosby and Arden's wife

But don't be deceived: what the play lacks in subtlety (in its production setting or the prose - no Shakespeare is this) or indeed length (it is a sprightly 1 hour 40, with no interval) it more than makes up for with some wonderfully portrayed supporting characters and a healthy infusion of verve and wit. 

The tale may ostensibly be about businessman Arden (Ian Redford), his unfaithful wife Alice (Sharon Small), and her lover Mosby (Keir Charles), but the Arden employees Michael (Ian Bonar) and Mosby's sister Susan (Elspeth Brodie) - a hapless, servile, near-silent figure who regularly haunts the stage and production - keep getting our attention even as the play heads towards the inevitable murder of the titular character.  The tragedy is not really about Arden, for all that he meets an undignified death as the disposable body of capitalism: a domestic murder for domestic reasons.  Arguably, it is not even about the vivacious, capricious wife Alice, who all too late realises the enormity of her actions and choices.  Rather it is Susan and a would-be husband Michael that intrigue.  

Susan: hidden, at the edges

Produced as part of the 'Roaring Girls' season at the RSC, the publicity has been all around Small as Alice Arden.  She certainly roars - with laughter, with lust, with anger and murderous desire.  But it is the mouse that doesn't roar who I keep thinking about: Susan.  Her brother Mosby tries to match her one way: with oily poisoner painter Clarke (Christopher Middleton).  Her mistress, Alice Arden, meanwhile promises her to Arden employee Michael.  Neither Mosby nor Alice seem especially concerned to consider Susan's own preferences, and it doesn't seem to bother either prospective husband much, with both Clarke and Michael careless as to whether Susan may have a role to play in her choice of 'owner'.  Michael is at least ambivalent in how he is drawn into the murderous plotting: he doesn't really want to get involved but his desire to match with Susan becomes blinded and complicit to the actions of those around him.  That Susan is condemned and put to death alongside more active and duplicitous participants in the murder of Arden is perhaps the real tragedy of the play.*

Despite that tragedy, the production does make good use of some of the underlying elements of farce in the text, including the (not-so-original) bungling hitmen Black Will and Shakebag, ably brought to life by Jay Simpson and Tony Jayawardena.

Silent Bob and Jay

These two present violent slapstick and murderous intent thwarted by fog, timing and choices but mostly by general incompetence.  Indeed, the oleaginous Clarke is far more disturbing than they are, as it seems even Clarke's own flesh rebels against his exploits with poison and paint (rashes across his skin, gloved hands, hair and flesh that drips with contamination). By contrast the seemingly 'professional' killers - Will and Shakebag - are perpetually in more danger from each other than they can cause to others, even before the first significant head injury by unintended crowbar enters the action.  By the time the 'tragic' murder of Arden takes place, we're well prepared for the farcical raising of his body in one of his own delivery boxes above the dining table, to drop warm blood to a wine glass below.

Overall, this is a production worth seeing, short enough to be enjoyable and very well performed.  Perhaps its key problem is the baggage it comes with of being a 16th century 'true crime dramatisation'.  Taken on its own terms, this is a time-shifted tragedy whose farce makes it modern.

* The play is usually described as a 'revenge tragedy'.  But it isn't the revenge of wife or Arden as husband that defines the play.  Rather, the person who gets their revenge is a minor character: Mistress Reede.  She curses Arden to die for the "plot of ground that thou detains from me ... there be butchered by thy dearest friends".  The lands of the Abbey of Faversham from which she was evicted prove to be Arden's undoing. The play started with his discontent at having acquired the lands when his wife is adulterously in love with Mosby.  It ends with those same lands granting Mistress Reede her revenge, off stage and unnoticed.  A very strange revenge tragedy...

"Anon, anon" - reflections and reminiscences on Henry IV Part I (RSC, Stratford upon Avon Thursday 20th March 2014)

Framing comment: My O level Shakespeare text was "Henry IV part I", which means it has a special place in my heart and memories (even though  the tape recording we were regularly subjected to at school was less than wonderful, with a Hotspur who had more accents than Russell Crowe was accused of having in Robin Hood).

We'll be seeing Part II later in the season, but for now I wanted to immerse myself in Part I, attempting to rid my mind of the experience of seeing this play at the Globe a few seasons ago with the marvellous Roger Allam as a memorable Falstaff.  I don't think I'll ever quite move Allam from my mind, but Sher is such a fine actor that he nevertheless takes the role on with glee and gusto.

The RSC under Greg Doran take a conventional medieval staging for Henry IV Part I, and bring a wonderful cast to the production with fine echoes for those who saw the earlier Richard II.  Indeed, the opening scene with King Bolingbroke, penitent and praying for forgiveness for his regicidal actions, is even haunted by the ghost of Richard. (I felt sorry for the actor who had to don Tennant's white robe and a wig to figure his presence from gloomy shadows on the balcony over the stage to Jasper Britton's still-shaken Henry IV).

Although we saw an early preview (first preview was 18 March), it already felt very polished as RSC productions usually do.  Sir Anthony Sher is clearly having a whale of a time, grizzling joyously as Sir John Falstaff.  He shakes effectively from the drink; he clearly adores Hal; and he is so in love with life that all his errant ways are but means to survive another day for drinking.  His deception is not malice - he believes his lies even as they run away from him ("A hundred upon poor four of us").

It is the interaction between Harry Monmouth (Prince Hal, wonderfully played by Alex Hassell) and merry Jack Falstaff that drives the force of the play as the Prince moves from his embedded life of wastrel indulgence and humour to bravery on the battlefield against his changeling 'brother-at-arms', the fiery Hotspur, Harry Percy.  Falstaff remains present throughout this shift and Hal cannot quite abandon his adoration of his alternative father figure, even as Falstaff blatently lies about killing Hotspur and feigning his own death.  Yet we know from early on that things will turn, as prefigured by the wonderful Act 2 scene 4. Both Hal and Falstaff play at being the King and exchange on the actions and merits of Hal's behaviour and the company he keeps: it is a comic and dangerous impersonation of the King that turns its humour on its head in two simple phrases: "I do.  I will."  Moreover, Hal has already let the audience in on his secret self (the soliloquy at the end of scene Act 1 scene 2), a self that he knows will willingly abandon his friends and bawdy life.  He will banish "plump Jack".  We know, eventually, he does.

But in the meantime, we have one of the Shakespearean plays that is most playful with genres, switching eagerly between history to tragedy to comedy.  There are battles, references back to the murder of Richard, deaths amongst the families (for so many are interrelated back through the bloodlines from King Edward III), but there are also the aforementioned mockeries of Kingship and courtly power, demonstrations of cowardice, bawdy associations and much drinking of sack.

For those who delight in ensemble performance, we have several casting reiterations from Richard II, that echo and re-employ actors to fine effect.  These include resurrected Antony Byrne, previously Mowbray, who comes back as Worcester, who does not take the King's advice to make peace and instead leads "three knights... a noble earl and many a creature a else" to their deaths in the culminating battle of the play,  Sean Chapman reappears as Northumberland, father to a maniacal Hotspur (Trevor White), with the latter all growed up from the feisty naif figure who appeared in Richard II (when played by Edmund Wiseman) into a positively unhinged warrior with a wife he doesn't quite deserve (Lady Kate Percy, played with considerable vigour by Jennifer Kirby).  Sam Marks, a finely sycophantic Bushy in Richard II, also reappears here, as foil to Prince Hal in the form of Poins, the transitional friend between the life that Hal appears to live (the sack-soaked clockless days with Falstaff, with the cries of "anon, anon" from hapless Francis) and the life of court and valour that as Prince Henry he will instinctively re-take by the end of the play.

What is charming about this production is that it does not appear that the cast/audience are forever waiting on Falstaff to reappear (although Sher is delightful and clearly appreciated by the ensemble cast).  Everyone holds their poise, even as Hotspur runs around the stage twitching for a fight, even as he finds he forgets the map that will mark out his borders of power (which of course he rails against).  At the centre of the play is the now quieted King, the Bolingbroke who took the crown from Richard's cousinly hand, who longs for a son who would live up to the bold actions of himself or at least that of rival Northumberland and his fearless son Hotspur.  But in the end, King Henry IV comes to realise that there is more to his seemingly errant son than wasted days of sack and whores alongside merry Jack, and that a Hotspur for a son is no gift at all as the latter rages to his death near pointlessly.  Of course we all love Falstaff's wit and self-delusion, but we also know that forces of power will move on and past him, that his beloved Hal will throw off his "loose behaviour" and shine far better as a son to the King, and that honour - that "mere scutcheon" - will come to the fore.

I'm looking forward to seeing Part II (which I am far less familiar with as a play, something I always like because I like not having too many preconceptions), not least to see more of Paola Dionisotti as Mistress Quickly, but also to watch Oliver Ford Davies, always an excellent actor, taking up the role of Shallow.  I'm also looking forward to seeing upcoming Elliot Barnes-Worrell more as Hal's brother Prince John. But that is for a later date.

"Here, cousin": of divine kings destroyed and traitors risen higher than their worth - Richard II @RSC Stratford, matinee performance 26 October 2013

I wrote a less spoilery review from my first visit (on the first night) so I thought I would take the time to give a more revealing commentary here having seen the show a second time, from a physically different angle.

For the first visit, we were in the stalls; for this, as we were taking the sibling part of the Roberts' family (Mark, Sarah, Grace and James), we were on the Upper Circle, but this turned out to be no bad thing for getting a different perspective on things on many levels.

So, in terms of this production, if you are planning to see it - whether onstage, or on screen, or on the planned later DVD release - and if you don't want to know the quirks of this version.....

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It is a fine ensemble production, and there are plenty of pleasures in every performance from Elliot Barnes-Worrell as the groom through to Edmund Wiseman as Harry Percy (wonder what will become of THAT character... rhetorical question folks).  Everyone in between, from the most experienced to the young upcomers, give everything and make not only every line count - it is exceptionally well-spoken and clear, perhaps some of the clearest deliveries I've heard for a long while - but every look and gesture counts as well.

On which note, how I love the long piercing glare that Richard throws at Mowbray, a kind of 'don't even think about it' look, when Mowbray is directly asked by Bolingbroke "Confess thy treasons ere thou fly this realm"... ouch. There is such an extended pause when Mowbray considers his options before replying "No", that one wonders if Richard may lose his pacing cool stance in exhalation of relief at Mowbray keeping his silence. But the King barely flutters an eyelash.  At this stage, he still feels himself to be divinely approved, comfortable in his effete luxury, (over)confident in his actions.

As a whole, the production seems no less tight than it did on the first night, though they have tweaked a couple of things. They've probably shortened a few hems (no trips or snags this time around), and no-one got smacked by a snapping stick (they've moved the action with the gardeners in Act 3 scene 4 - which opens the post-interval acts - to face the centre of the stage rather than the hapless audience). Some very minor changes in staging have been made - a couple of sequences seem to be located further up the thrust stage, but nothing that especially makes a returning visitor gasp or bemoan a change in emphasis.  The RSC at its best knows how to get it right from the start.

The 'halves' of the show remain intact, with the interval coming after a potentially numbing 1 hour 40 mins (before a brisk second 'half' of around an hour).  There are a lot of events and persons to get your head around if coming raw to this play, and I wish I had better prepared the family for their trip.  Never mind: the second half has more humour and certainly it makes sense to knock Richard down before the interval and then chronicle his further decline and end after the break.  I'm sure there are multiple ways of staging this, but it is difficult to judge where the timing of the break could come - before Act 3 kicks off at all?  That would make for a strangely flat culmination of the first section, with Salisbury and the Welsh captain at odds for Richard's failure to show his presence - and therefore to confirm he still lives - to the warring soldiers amidst the ailing Irish battles Richard was so keen to source funds to fight.  Scheduling the interval after Act 3 scene 2 would break the transition of power as Richard realises how lost he is and would bring the audience back in the midst of that demise, so I can absolutely see the logic of breaking ahead of the gardener's scene. The unevenness is within the play itself it seems.

Back to the staging (and high credits to designer Stephen Brimson Lewis and lighting director Tim Mitchell):

Being down below, it is harder to appreciate some of the lighting and projections onto the stage floor; from above these are glorious - branches, streaks of dark fragmented bark, shadows and shapes.  For the final prison scene, where Richard is chained in a lonely dungeon, the beautiful use of mirrors allows those in the stalls to appreciate the below stage scene.  When located high above the action, it is possible to see and appreciate both the mirroring and the actors.

From stalls level, you see the great height of the staging - the magnificent projections of cathedral spaces; but from above they look just as spectacular.  It is also good to have a different viewpoint on the bridge on which the throne sits - it drops into place, sometimes to stage level, but more often at the Circle level and as Richard is brought low by the traitors who surround him, the fragility of this balcony becomes apparent: he unsurprisingly returns at the end, angelic white robes, to cast a gloomy eye down on Bolingbroke's attempts to refute that he had in any way wanted Richard's death

It is also a great treat to be on the same level as the incredible musicians and singers: the excellent trio of sopranos singing Paul Englishby's music are especially wonderful to see in closer proximity.  I'm looking forward to listening to the CD: it all sounded beautiful.

Back to the play itself.

There is much grief in this play, and not least because of the enormously popular Ben Whishaw/Rupert Goold adaptation for The Hollow Crown series of Shakespeare adaptations for television, which attacked the tearducts with customary heartfelt passion from both parties.  This is more of a heartbreaking sting than full-blown tears; the inevitability of downfall tempers the Christ-like allusions (which are no less absent here, just differently conveyed).  This is indeed a sad story of the death of a king.

The grief is there from the start, with the luminous Jane Lapotaire's silky grey hair cascaded down her black widow's garb for the demise of Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester.

Her fretful, stumbling desperation to address the death of her husband pulls at our sensibilities of how grief should be expressed.  It is contained and uncontained, urging action and yet paralysed to achieve.  There is the grief of Gaunt, his son banished on a half-whim by Richard who is even at this stage a compromised figure, and whose illness in response is brushed off as lightly as Richard takes his flatterers seriously (til he realises just how they pandered to his ego and power).  There is a clear dismissiveness in Richard's "So much for that" after Gaunt's death is announced and perfunctory regret is expressed.

It has to be said that Pennington as Gaunt is toweringly good, bring life (and death) to the potentially-all-too-familiar "This sceptr'd isle" speech.  That he makes it fresh is wonderful to watch and hear: fiery passion and fading breath at its best.

It is after Gaunt's death that the fatal compromise that York undertakes to not go against the challenge of Bolingbroke and his supporters, to ultimately not just accept but facilitate it, come to the fore.  Oliver Ford Davies does weary so well, and he is well cast here as the flawed York who given governance of England in Richard's absence can do little to protect it, and makes pragmatism a resignedly sad decision to survive.

Several have commented on how this production still manages to "find the funny"; sometimes this maybe goes beyond expectations of more traditional viewers for the play, but actually this largely works.  It is a particular despairing first 'half' as Richard falls from careless power, cronies and fey recklessness to his eventual (second half) handing of the crown to Bolingbroke, so bringing in a level of farce to proceedings adds some much needed levity.

There is certainly a tragi-comedic undertone in the lengthy pause after "For heaven's sake let us sit upon the ground..." before the continuation of "and tell sad stories of the death of kings".  The break in the pattern allows us to see Richard in a transitory position - he remains King, despite the wreckage of his power falling to Bolingbroke's populist might, and as such can petulantly demand the grown men around him seat themselves upon the ground like children in a ring for games... but when the game is being pulled away from him and smile stings. There are little details like the step back and forth of the Queen and her ladies-in-waiting as she playfully tries to get them guessing what move she will make that they must follow.

In the second 'half', the humour is more broad, though again varies between intonation, context, pacing, and stage direction.  Several have commented on the "here, cousin" as Richard calls Bolingbroke to collect the crown - like the calling of a pet dog to fetch a treat.  

The tone is biting, and yet in it there is Richard's last vestige of power as he is able to undercut Bolingbroke's thievery of this potent and well-like symbol.  Adding an edge of ludicrousness to the multiple 'throwing of the gages' (a kind of "I challenge you Sir" - "NO, I challenge YOU sir!") in Act 4 scene 1, somehow seems right, not least because it suggests that Bolingbroke's power might easily crumple before it is fully won between these bickering lords.  Similarly, there is excellent use of Oliver Ford Davies's comic timing, especially alongside Marty Cruickshank as York's wife.  Even from the start of that scene (Act 5 scene 2) there is an inevitable playfulness in the delivery of the lines so apt to a Tennant-adoring audience as this is (and as it was for Hamlet too, which OFD also shared):

"As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well-graced actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious...."

And yet, this is such an ensemble piece that the audiences are entranced even without the star-turn on stage (though he is on stage a lot).  When the Yorks discover their son Aumerle's part in a plot against Bolingbroke as king, we know each character is feeling for their part in Richard's downfall (and York especially has much to feel responsible about). Each pleading with Bolingbroke is made with heartfelt anguish but deep comic bones, and it was a wonderful final flash of exhalation for the audience before the inevitable final downfall of the former King.

And of that fall...? Aumerle is the key, and we've been set up for this throughout the play.  When others act as flatterers - Baggot, Bushy and Green are just the most visible of these - Aumerle quietly adores and fears in equal measure what it means to be in the presence of his King, his Richard.

Oliver Rix brings Aumerle to fruition elegantly, sparely.  It's isn't an especially large role, but you feel his sharing of the pain that Richard has to swallow as this King realises that all the divine appointment in the world cannot stop rebellion (and Richard has more than a little of himself to blame for how he got to the crown and that 'divine appointment' in the first place).  The balcony scene when Richard effectively surrenders to Bolingbroke's request - you can see how Aumerle flinches at having to deliver the lines - is a real heartbreaker.

So it is all the more heartbreaking by the end when Richard is killed and in being killed he pulls back the hood of the one who wields the dagger: to survive, to prove worth after being implicated in a plot to kill Bolingbroke the usurper King, Aumerle takes on the worst task in the world.  The omission of the tentative Act 5 scene 4 now makes sense, and is all the more painful for it. To quote Wilde:

"Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!"

Presented with the body of his erstwhile enemy, the deposed King, Bolingbroke understandably flinches, and there's an even clearer sense of his 'supporters' backing off despite the refuting that the death was anything he wanted.  As Richard had predicted earlier, the duplicitous Northumberland (an excellent Sean Chapman) - the vilest of those who had thrown in with Bolingbroke - will "knowst the way to plant unrightful kings [and] wilt know again".  When he backs off, you expect that there will be trouble ahead for Bolingbroke's peace of mind.

And so a final visiting angel comes to glower over this departure: a throne was squandered and yet also stolen.  No one comes out good, those who live nor those who die (one cannot envisage that Aumerle's soul will be rested or reunited after his actions).  Bleak?  Yes.  But utterly magnificent.  Everyone - even if I have missed off a few names - contributes everything they have to this production.  It is a triumph.

The problem is in the play - 'The Taming of the Shrew': RSC on tour, Nottingham Theatre Royal Thursday 15 March 2012

The Taming of the Shrew is a VERY uncomfortable play: there is just no getting around the domestic abuse, the sexual fantasy, the 'surrendered wife' business. Does that make it not worth seeing? Despite the plays difficulties, I was nevertheless sad to miss the Michelle Gomez version the RSC did a couple of years ago, so was pleased to catch this new one as it toured to selected UK venues - including Nottingham's Theatre Royal (til Saturday 17 March 2012).

David Caves and Lisa Dillon make up our turbulent couple this time around. As Petruchio, Caves stands a terrifying foot or more over the petite Dillon, but she's a fierce match for his bravado, in the macho setting of late 1940s Italy. This Katherina is angry at the patriarchal power her father holds over her and her simperingly manipulative sister, furious at the expectations of her gender to be sold to the highest bidder, and is scarcely ever separated from a flask of alcohol from which she regularly imbibes (is drink a means to anaesthetise Kate to her situation, a prop to 'justify' her 'Shrewish' behaviour, or a 'genuine' evidence of her out-of-control lack of appropriately behaved femininity?) It is in the gestures and actions between the lines that one gets the best sense of the power-plays at stake, even as the language can make you wince.*

That this production comes close to offering an admirable and enjoyable version of the play is credit to the combined efforts of the cast and director and set designer.

Set on a giant bed, the production makes use of the (still somewhat) contentious framing device [the Induction] of Christopher Sly - the drunken tinker manipulated by a Lord and his servants into believing he is a lord himself, and for whom the narrative of Petruchio and Katherina is performed as a play within the play. Sly is brilliantly brought to life by a rambunctiously grubby Nick Holder, and his pants - and lack of them - are the source of much entertainment throughout the play. But even here there is an undercurrent of discomfort as we see Sly exploited for entertainment purposes by a bored aristocrat out hunting. At the end, he's thrown back into his previous existence: is the tale of taming a fantasy for him, a projection of the Lord's own frustrations, or is the Induction merely a way of softening the audience to be comfortable with seeing Shrew as farce rather than disturbing and iniquitous in tone?


It's a tricky one, and I feel loathe to be too down on a production that makes the best of such problematic material - I nevertheless cannot help but be unconvinced by male reviewers reactions to this play: whilst it was good to see a 5-star review in the Telegraph, I still grimaced at reading "she finally submits, with humour and grace". Urgh. I can't quite allow my unreconstructed feminist head and heart think that particular phrasing and summary of Kate's big speech to Bianca and the Widow can stand...

Nevertheless, there has to be a way of reconciling that final big speech with the discomfort it induces. Perhaps it is better expressed in Susannah Clapp's review for The Observer which gets close to finding a way to articulate what works about this particular production:

Nothing can make the speech (really the only proper speech in the play) in which she asks women to put their hands under their husbands' feet either sympathetic or good sense. Yet in Bailey's production something mysterious happens. Dillon speaks it with such careful consideration – ironic, gentle, with a thrill of anticipation – that it becomes truly moving. This is Dillon's triumph but it is Caves's too: they act together as if they are reaching not a truce but an understanding, as if dominance and submission were a tease taken seriously only by the dullards around them. They have been partly playing, trying each other out, and now can go to bed in earnest. Bailey has made this ill-natured drama look as if it has a heart. And loins.

Certainly it is easy to miss that as Petruchio 'starves' and 'forces on' Katherina, he is also pushing his own body and appetites as well. There is perhaps (just) a mutuality to the subjugation ---- but I'm not entirely sure. It's an excellent production, well acted and structured: at the end of the day, the problem is the play.

Anyway.

On the back of such problematic material, Neil and I then had an interesting discussion on the way home: should all plays have curtain calls? It arose around such 'problematic' plays, plays of darkness, the thought-provoking, the difficult, even distressing.

I made the argument that although I can see the point against curtain calls being automatic, there is perhaps an even better argument for them when it IS a problem play.

I'm kinda (badly) appropriately some Brechtian-like ideas here: for surely what the curtain call does is shake the audience into awareness that what they have watched is a play. Not 'reality' but acting; these players are but actors, not an actual Kate and Petruchio, dealing in subjugation. To throw off the guise of their characters is a good thing, right? To recognise that these are showing their audience a play, a version of reality/unreality, is surely appropriate, yes?

Because otherwise there is a danger of being unable to distinguish fiction from reality (to believe that actor X really is their character, really is a murderous cheat, and therefore deserves vitriol and scorn in the street away from their acting role). The curtain call therefore draws attention to the artificiality of performance even as it allows a way of acknowledging how convincing the players have been as their characters.** But it remains disturbing the level of 'pleasure' audiences get in seeing a woman subdued, and in that context our applause remains problematic in breaking the spell.


* Both Neil and I do get uncomfortable when audiences - especially blokes - laugh QUITE so uproariously at how Kate is treated and 'tamed'.

** And of course, when directors and set-designers take their bows, the audience can appropriately boo what they inflicted on nevertheless excellent performers, pace the opera 'The Little Mermaid' recently.

"What's Mine is Yours..." Measure for Measure, RSC Swan Theatre: Theatre Review (matinee) Saturday 28 January 2012

Well, as Helen inimitably stated "That was a first - I've never seen Shakespeare delivered through a gimp mask before."

Yes folks, this production kicks off the brothel scenes with high S&M and lewd abandon. It was like 'Marat/Sade' all over again!

But it would be unfair to labour this alliance in tone with the play as a whole: for 'Measure for Measure' is an awkward play of dark and variably high comedic tones. For example, Raymond Coulthard made for a dazzlingly magical Duke, beautifully comic and with a great turn in sleight of hand. Joseph Kloska was similarly engaging - his performance as the pimp Pompey showed an inventiveness and interaction with the audience worthy of any heir to William Kempe. There were a (small) number of judiciously included asides and 'improvisations' to the audience that had us in fits of giggles: as aptly quipped, "I've got work with what I've got here."

Interestingly, given that my main exposure to 'Measure' is the short scene of David Tennant as Angelo, seeing Angelo performed more as a scared and confused character (rather than manipulative) was actually rather intriguing. It made for a very different dynamic to the scenes between Isabella and Angelo which was very good to see after multiple watchings of the YouTube scene.

(Additionally, given the lewd tone of the brothel scenes, we were pretty grateful that Tennant was not taking a role in this production!)

Anyway, we thought it was very good and I wish that it hadn't sold out so much that tickets to take Neil back are unlikely to be feasible. Boo.

As penance for the filth of this play though, we saw 'Written on the Heart' in the evening and this time I saw the whole play! Morally better for us for sure...

"We'll crack on then" - Theatre Review: A Midsummer Night's Dream - RST Stratford Upon Avon Saturday 29 October 2011

Feeling much better - though frankly I couldn't have gone had not felt better than the Friday night - we headed into this production of Dream with high hopes for both much needed laughter and magic.

It did not disappoint.

The production used the now common Peter Brook's technique of 'doubling' characters between the scenes in Athens and the fairy world. Theseus becomes Oberon; Hippolyta becomes Titania; Philostrate becomes Puck (aka Robin Goodfellow).

The last - indeed only stage version - that Neil and I had seen of Dream was way back in 1992 when we saw The Pocket Dream: a prodution by The Comedy Store players (led by Sandi Toksvig, Michael McShane, Meil Mularkey et al). It was a fine and hilarious production putting play within play within play and marvellously sending up overly serious actor groups.

This more than lived up to the recommendations I had heard.

What was especially interesting to note was how well several key players from Marat/Sade performed:

• Amanda Wilkin (Kokol in M/S) was a brilliant understudy for Lucy Briggs-Own as Helena, and although LB-O has garnered some storming reviews I really feel that Wilkin adeptly filled in and was deservedly well-applauded by both audience and cast.
• Imogen Doel (Charlotte Corday in M/S) made for a truly terrifying fairy - she and Maya Barcot had to make up for lost fairies with the promotion of Wilkin to the role of Helena, but it was scarcely noticeable. The hissing malevolence of Doel's fairy incarnation made the fairy world a much less comforting place than some productions make it. She was excellent.
• Arsher Ali (Marat in M/S) was for me a joy: he's clearly a talent to continue to watch and was a delightful Puck/Philostrate. The balance of Puck to the other characters can sometimes be a problem in certain Dream productions; whilst Ali didn't steal the show he did (quite rightly) have a great charisma, all gangly limbs and wry smile. This was especially well done as Philostrate near the end when (in 'best man' guise) his rapport with the audience provided a chuckleworthy "we'll crack on then" as we tried hard not to totally lose the plot. Puck's outfit was awesome as well - flailing ties of colour over his gold long coat. A delicious pleasure.
  

But there were other highlights as well: Pippa Nixon and Jo Stone-Fewings made for a wonderful Theseus and Hippolyta / Oberon and Titania. Scarcely has the Queen of the Amazons seemed so clearly disgruntled at being 'forced' into marriage with the conqueror Theseus; yet their transformation into a loving couple, through their dream alter-egos as Oberon and Titania, is a joy to watch. The scene where the King and Queen of fairyland 'undress'/'redress' each other to into the soon to be new Queen and King of Athens is sensuous and moving. Beautifully lit as well (as is the whole production).

Though everyone played a key role in this wonderful version, I would also want to note Matti Houghton, last seen by us in The Caucasian Chalk Circle, who made for a furiously spiky 'little' Hermia. Mark Wootton (Bottom) - though his comedy on screen really hasn't been to my liking - was ideally cast here and brought a note of genuine slapstick to the proceedings that was truly funny. I actually found Bottom's transformation at the hands of Puck rather disturbing, but he was hilarious. Indeed, all the 'players' were excellent and I loved the lion's footstep sound-effects.

Overall, pure joy and pleasure. I only wish I could see it again - and that I had not missed the previous night's play.

Aside
Helen Lisette missed out on seeing Arsher Ali as Puck/Robin Goodfellow (and his other guise of Philostrate), and instead saw Lanre Malaolu whom Neil and I last saw in Marat/Sade playing the exceptionally onanistic Duperret. (Indeed, we struggled to imagine him as Puck, but HLW assured us he was very good indeed).

This is not a Theatre Review: "Written on the Heart" RSC Swan Theatre. Stratford upon Avon Friday 28 October 2011

I let the actors down; I let myself down; I let you down.

I booked to see Written on the Heart, David Edgar's play about the writing of the King James Bible, back in January 2011 when I did my mammoth booking fest for the year. So I have been looking forward to this production for quite some time.

What was not to like? It's about one of the most important English language books ever, about the nature and construction of faith; and - though this was only revealed long after booking - would feature one of our really great stage actors, ideally suited to such roles, Oliver Ford Davies.

So I was more than a little disappointed when with about a minute to go before curtain up I had to acknowledge 'I don't feel well'.

I gamely struggled on but as I got hotter and hotter I felt less and less able to cope.

Twenty minutes in (max) I had to admit defeat, and ran from my seat past Neil and four others (I was awkwardly located on the far side of the theatre at the end of an inner row). I just made it out before...

I really was not well. If I overheat, this does not help. It took the best part of about 30-45 minutes to stop shaking let alone all the rest (it was touch and go about the RSC staff calling an ambulance for me).

Thanks to the front-of-house staff's care and attention I managed to recuperate and at the interval (of course the first 'half' was an hour and 20 mins long) Neil and I were reunited and we made a decision that I really needed to head back to the hotel.

What Neil saw he said was very good; and certainly I enjoyed reading the play script purchased from the shop earlier that evening. Luckily, I get a second chance at this come January when Helen Lisette and I go to Stratford for our now semi-established January break. Let's hope I am better then.

Marat / Sade - is putting up a vox pop of audience responses a good idea?

The RSC has put up a video of audience reactions - largely visiting students / college pupils - regarding Marat / Sade.

The press night is tonight.

I wonder how they will react?

*Update*
Guardian review - reasonably fair I feel... I'd have maybe gone with 3.5 stars.

A pretty thorough blog review that is well worth reading from The Real ChrisSparkle.

Should a play "work for you"? Preview 15 October 2011 Marat/Sade @ Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford upon Avon

Marat/Sade - or to give its full title "The Persecution and Assassination of Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade" - is currently being revived by the RSC at Stratford.

This was always going to be a dangerous proposition, for despite Peter Weiss's German play being an intentionally provocative work, the RSC's 1964 production has passed into legendary status. Originally translated by Geoffrey Skelton, but brought to verse life by poet Adrian Mitchell, the original RSC version had been directed by Peter Brooks, and had starred Ian Richardson (as the Herald - though in the US production he took over the role of Marat), Clive Revill (as Marat) Patrick McGee (as De Sade) and Glenda Jackson (as Charlotte Corday). It was an incendiary play, and an incendiary production - still strongly recalled by all who saw it --- as the comments surrounding the current production indicate.

So bringing it back to life in the 21st century was always going to be a risky strategy as a way of demonstrating the RSC still had the power to be radical: firstly, because it is doing radical things elsewhere (both with new plays and the direction of some of its Shakespeare productions); and secondly because - guess what? It's a REVIVAL and what is ever going to be radical about revisiting the past?

Quite a lot it seems, and that the production may not quite work is only part of such radicalism.

*Note*
Do remember that I'm commenting here on a Preview performance (only the second). A few technical and performance hiccups were clearly still present, but no-one and nothing seemed to come to lasting harm. Note as well that the play is only on for approximately 3 weeks (opening 14 October and closing 5 November: I predict a spectacular finale suitable to the date when it closes).


Unsurprisingly, several people left the production at the interval which is timed approximately 2/3 of the way through the show --- the couple next to Neil grumpily stayed for the second part and she at least was clearly negatively comparing the show to the version she had previously seen [I didn't catch if it was the notorious first RSC version, it may have been the Daniel Craig one...]. If I had a pound for every time she muttered darkly "It's just not working for me" I'd have made at least a tenner, with which I'd have given her a subscription to a decent newspaper since she seemed to think the Daily Mail was a suitable read....

Anyway, in contrast, the woman sat beside me seemed to positively revel in this desperately uncomfortable play. She chuckled heartily many times, for although this is a play (and production) that throws harsh lighting on uncomfortable realities, it is not without absurd humour.

To say the play comes across as uneven need not necessarily be a criticism: rather there is nevertheless an inchoate quality to the performance as a whole that makes the production perhaps even more chaotic and unfathomable for its largely middle-class audience than they would anticipate. The RSC letter to advance ticket purchasers certainly tipped them off about the foreseeable combined violence, nudity and "religious imagery", but I don't know to what extent they were all ready for the distinctly non-revolutionary France 'setting' for the play.

What works best are some of these relocation updates and the directorial flourishes associated with these. Connections to the recent riots, the uprisings in the Arab Spring (and other Middle East associations) abound everywhere. Technology, particularly mobile phones, are used incredibly well and in a way that goes beyond mere invocations of Abu Ghraib but into thoughts of control and distractedness from humanity. The blurring between post-Revolutionary France and contemporary events feels even more heightened in this age of increasingly fast mass communication, certainly more than even the 1960s could have anticipated. When the crowd/the inmates cry out for their revolution there is a crackle of recognition that makes the text of the play as relevant as it would have been in the 1960s.

What work less well are some of the moments of vocalisation (sometimes the singing and the music, the spoken text and the noise become over-layered in a way that just makes them unintelligible - but it is never clear whether that may be the point). The production is also not helped by some of the racially iffy consequences of colour-blind casting: sometimes you really do have to think about what certain characters are doing, saying and gesturing to others in the light of each performers race. Additionally, one can't help but feel that the production doesn't quite break down enough the barriers between audience (within the play) and the theatre audience - for all the popcorn, thrown clothing and minor entries into the seated areas. The use of the thrust stage and balconies to place actors amidst the audience is already well-used by the RSC and so its use here perhaps needed to be even more radical and confrontational in order to challenge the audience out of their comfort zone of passive observers.

Nevertheless, there are some stand-out performances which for me made the production work and will make it memorable as an experience.

Jasper Britton as de Sade was incredible. At times he looks astonishingly like his father (actor Tony Britton) and I'm not sure if that makes the performance more or less disturbing. Certainly, his moments of transformation - he gets a number of costume changes - are carried off with breathtaking confidence. His de Sade is both manipulative and disconcertingly weak: perhaps in just the right measure. His playing against the control of Coulmier (Christopher Ettridge), the Governor of the Asylum is particularly well handled.

Similarly, Lisa Hammond makes for a discomforting Herald: her sexuality is heightened, not ignored, and her disability acknowledged and provocatively played upon. I hope she gets further opportunities with the RSC, and hopefully ones that allow her talents to be appreciated. She conveyed wit and malice with incredible power.

Arsher Ali also made for an excellent Marat, initially uncertain in his performance (as befitting his inmate status) but growing in frustration and self-awareness as the play progresses; his need to proclaim, his need to speak and be hear, sound like the buried sensibilities of reasoned analysis amidst a time of revolution. He is the most broken by the insistent reminders from Coulmier that it's now 1808 and things are different... (when really audience, actors, inmates and the play-within-play audience all know it is nothing of the sort).

Both Nicholas Day and Andrew Melville are under-used in this production, and both suffer enormously for their contributions to the play: but they nevertheless contribute to the unsettling feeling of incoherence that surrounds the performance. More disappointingly Corday (as played by Imogen Doel) never seems to take on the full weight of importance one feels she should have within the play. She comes across as a puppet to other's plans (both as Charlotte and the narcoleptic inmate playing her), which may be just right but somehow seems less pertinent than it could be.

Elsewhere, there are disconcerting and erratic performances from within the ensemble: Maya Barcot as Rossignol, Golda Rosheuvel as Cucurucu, and Amanda Wilkin as Kokol sing magnificently but can come across too often as performers playing inmates playing performers --- and I'm not sure that level of meta-playing is quite what the play wants to alert us to. Similarly, Lanre Malaolu as Duperret (the ever masturbating sex maniac) works best when in his moments of 'lucidity' and articulation - which is probably the intended counterpoint of his ever-more pathetic inability to exert physical self-control.

Despite my misgivings and uncertainties about the production 'working' - and the more I think about last night's play, the less certain I am what it would mean for the play to 'work' - everyone is clearly giving everything they have to this work and I can only imagine the exhaustion and psychological weirdness that must surround their performing in this hysterical play (since it is hysterical in so many senses). I can't help but applaud the effort of the RSC to challenge boundaries - but I'm not sure that reviving this play, with all its actorly baggage, was necessarily the best way to do it. The (sub)text references to contemporary events are well-intentioned, but I'm unclear about the extent to which audiences will be stirred to think differently as they may have done in the 1960s to the contemporary relevances invoked then. It's therefore an honourable take on a problematic work --- it will be interesting to see how others react.

"Well, it isn't about Scotland, is it?" - Dunsinane Preview night @ Swan Theatre, Stratford on Avon Wednesday 15 June 2011

Cloud's remark when we came out of this play possibly suggests a harsher review than will follow. Certainly, although the narrative is ostensibly one based on a follow-up to Macbeth (albeit rooted more in actual medieval Scottish history), you'd have to be pretty dim not to spot the analogies to present-day wars and occupations.

"Tell the men we'll be in Scotland a little longer than we expected"

Nevertheless, this is not a one-dimensional sledgehammer of a play about the problems of Iraq/Afghanistan, particularly given its lively, sharp and incredibly funny dialogue and the excellent performances. This new revival of David Greig's 2010 RSC Hampstead theatre new play is ending a short tour from the National Theatre of Scotland in Stratford, having been on in Edinburgh and Glasgow earlier in spring/summer 2011.



Since this year is proving to be a rather expensive year for theatre-deficits induced by hot actors treading the boards in abundance, I also felt I should treat Cloud to some pleasure for himself. Having carried a torch for Siobhan Redmond since her days in Bulman and then Between the Lines, I couldn't deny Cloud the chance to have his own Scottish heaven (no, I don't know what it is about our house and its love of Scottish actors!)

Redmond is glorious as the Queen, Gruach, particularly when she plays opposite Jonny Phillips as the English Siward. The latter's eventual collapse into violent vengeance for his own succumbing to Gruach's clever use of power, and his own weak inability to ultimately overcome her, is sparkling to watch. Brian Ferguson's Malcolm - uncannily resembling Slinger's Macbeth actually, but a far more weasily King - is hysterical. A very sharp humour indeed. It always feels harsh to pick out specific members of the cast, but these three especially turn in spectacularly good performances.

The structure of the play, working around a 'letter to mother' from one of the young English soldiers, eventually permits an overall questioning of what we have seen through his eyes. The bawdy humour, the casual violence, the swearing, are as one may imagine a young boy soldier's view on life stuck occupying a seemingly desolate land far from home. The use of music is also astute, mixing a near pop sensibility of dischordant cello, with lively guitar and drums, with unaccompanied Gaelic singing by Gruach's maids.

Overall, a very engaging production - both as a follow-on to Macbeth and in its own right as a contemporary play commenting on the nature of power and occupation. It may not be (entirely) about Scotland, but it is no less worthy for all that.

Theatre Preview: "Destiny" - The Merchant of Venice @ RST Stratford Saturday 14 May 2011

From first you walk into the auditorium of the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre at Stratford for Ruper Goold's new production of "The Merchant of Venice", you will know you have entered a space ready to present a reinterpretation of the text's setting that is likely to divide critical responses. I'll try and avoid taking all the fun out of the 'shocks' the production presents, but inevitably there will be some here. Call it 'spoiler-ish' if not quite 'spoiler-lite'.



Casino settings for this most money-driven narrative are not new - indeed only earlier this year did Derby's production of Merchant adopt a similar approach (it used a Manhattan 1920s format). But utilising a long-reported concept from John Logan of taking Merchant to a Las Vegas casino, Rupert Goold gives this version of Merchant the full-blown Elvis treatment.

The Logan idea reportedly arose from a conversation in 2007 between the Star Trek writer and Patrick Stewart where Logan called Merchant "a loathsome play" and Stewart sought to defend the play (see this Argus report when Stewart was about to embark on the Chichester premiere of his previous collaboration with Goold, the much-acclaimed Macbeth).

Merchant is undoubtedly a very uncomfortable play for modern audiences. It is classed as a comedy, and indeed this production is extraordinarily funny (though there were some braying laughers in the audience who didn't always seem to get when this was less appropriate). It is unavoidably racist: something again 'played up' by this production in some quite horrifying ways: for example, when the Prince of Morocco enters with the line "Mislike me not for my complexion" the act that accompanies this takes you back to the taunting faced by black footballers in the 1970s and 1980s. And the final act is probably one of the most disjointed in tone when set against its predecessor: the comedic business of husbands, wives and rings set against the resolution of the court sequence when Shylock has been demanding his bond forfeit of "a pound of flesh".

This production takes all of these points head on and more: the updated monetary values (from 3000 ducats to 3 million dollars) creates resonance with contemporary worlds of gambling and finance; all talk of destiny in relation to Portia's beholden commitment to a game of choice for her future is given a 'whoop and holler' glitz that nevertheless highlights the restrictions of Portia's options as an orphaned daughter; and there are the visually innovative uses and creations of space that we can now expect from Goold's creative use of space (lifts and cars are hilariously conveyed to the audience with the sort of panache one might expect more from the recent production of The Thirty-Nine Steps).

As one may expect, Stewart is on fine form, investing his Shylock with suitable frustration and contempt for Antonio from the start. It is a contempt that cracks over into venomous persistence for the forfeit once Shylock losses his beloved if ill-treated daughter Jessica, something that robs Shylock of his one prize valued beyond monetary worth. Again, Scott Handy proves an emotional catalyst to a production without being overwrought. As much as he is the eponymous Merchant, our first sight of Antonio is at the overnight nigh-empty tables of the casino in the thrust stage's pre-text preamble. He looks less like a high-risk financier than a gambler preoccupied with other thoughts --- thoughts of his friend Bassanio (a never especially over-stated 'love'). It is hardly surprising he gambles and loses so badly in the course of the play. Additionally, though their first appearance caused outraged gasps and giggles from the audience, Portia and Nerissa (Susannah Fielding and Emily Plumtree respectively) are vivid characters who make the adoption of a particular type of regional accent seem like the most natural directorial decision imaginable. Fielding especially manages to convincingly portray desperate uncertainty in the power of faithful love at end of the play's erratic Act 5 and lends a Blanche de Bois-style unravelling of self to her performance of Portia.

The RSC music ensemble are here given a rip-roaring opportunity to jazz things up; alongside Jamie Beamish's Launcelot Gobbo there's an alternately acerbic and bleakly hysterical edge to the production in its use of jazz and pop. Beamish - who was similarly well-used as the bleak comedian Seyton in Macbeth - certainly deserves some plaudits for taking on a cartoonish figure and succeeding in making him apt to the whole play. Even if I did get various flashbacks to the quirky world of Blackpool (the programme rather than the place).

Preview Issues
This was only the second audience performance of the play, and they've clearly got some ironing out to do. Though I graciously interpreted the final scene as performed as intended, there may well be aspects of it that were somewhat unintended (e.g. Portia and her shoes). More dramatically the running time is clearly not as planned: it started at 7.15 and the programme estimates the play will run 2 hours 45. Even allowing for the preamble (which makes knowing WHEN the play has started a little difficult to exactly pinpoint) and a slightly over-run interval, this still didn't let us out until after 10.30pm which makes it at least 30 mins over-running. Some trims and practice with certain scenes are likely to tighten this, but I still reckon audiences should bank on it averaging 3hours instead. Having said that, it doesn't drag and even though I estimated it should have finished by around 10pm (as it should have) it is only the play's internal quirk of that bizarre final act that renders the finale less dramatic than it could be.

There are three more performances before the Press Night and I'll be interested in seeing how critics react to this come Friday/weekend. I have a horrible nervous feeling they'll hate it, a kind of backlash against Goold's style of directing that has often edged close to excess and here is given extreme full-reign. I really hope they like it. There may need to be a little less Elvis (though not too much less, since Beamish is so endearing as the songster narrator Launcelot Gobbo), but I hope it keeps it's Vegas spirit and defies the critics. It's one helluva ride.

Overheard in the theatre
At the interval: "So, do you think Shakespeare would be turning in his grave?"
At the end: "So apparently it was written by Elvis..." (to which Neil tartly muttered "Lieber and Stoller actually" --- though that's probably only true of selected aspects of the production).

Theatre Review: Royal Gala Performance of Macbeth, Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford Saturday 30 April 2011

The Scottish Play: a dark tale about the ursurping of Kings; about blood feuds between families; about the murder of husbands, wives, families and servants; about bloody deeds and bloody thoughts; of the instability of countries and belief.

Perfect then as a follow-up to THAT event on Friday 29 April 2011, especially with HRH Prince of Wales in the audience as the President of the Royal Shakespeare Company. Michael Boyd's efforts to josh at the end of the play didn't feel THAT convincing...

The play itself is a rather curious production, but fascinating to see: Jonathan Slinger is great as the titular king, tortured by doubts at various points, trying but not entirely believing in the prophecies that grant him power. The transformation of the witches is weird on many levels, but I rather liked this envisaging of them as it made an unnerving contrast to regular interpretations of the Weird Sisters (hey: I read the Sandman novels and they make play with variations of these characters). Certainly, the creepy-factor is upped and then some to change the witches in this way, though I'm still a bit too freshly believing in the magisterial version of Macbeth with Patrick Stewart to be totally convinced. (Indeed, in that respect what WAS really nice was to see the reappearance of the excellent Scott Handy as Ross: brilliant performance.) There are many good performances in this production, not least from Steve Toussaint who had been so good in the Nottingham Twelfth Night production we saw last year. (Which I shamefully do not seem to have reviewed).

The music, as ever in RSC productions, was wonderful: all hail our three cello players with Craig Armstrong's music. Haunting and brittle in turn. The sets also are wonderfully conceived - not least the additional entrance available at the back of the stage at balcony level. And the use of the broken/complete stained glass windows was magical.

Definitely worth seeing, though perhaps unlikely to win plaudits as a best ever Macbeth.

Notes:
Plenty of nobs in the audience, and we probably could have blagged our way up to the do afterwards had we been so inclined. (or not - security felt v discrete). We never actually saw HRH - we were in the circle, facing the stage, but he was clearly seated underneath us due to the turning of heads in that direction at various moments. There was even some efforts being made at surreptitious photo taking by excited attendees. Rather amusing to watch from above.

Prince meets children

Reviews will spoiler particular casting decisions but it depends if you're attending.

Guardian Review
Telegraph Review
Stage Review

Remember that list of plays and events?

Betrayal at the Comedy Theatre ----

*whistles*

Plus:

RSC Written on the Heart
RSC Midsummer Night's Dream

(going into 2012)
RSC Measure for Measure

There is clearly a conspiracy of theatre ticket bankruptcy...

"Eyes Look Your Last": Romeo and Juliet - RSC Stratford Saturday matinee 5 March 2011

We'd had to wait a long while before we were able to schedule seeing this play, despite it originally being staged last spring/summer season (2010). But at last we got to see Rupert Goold's acclaimed direction of Romeo and Juliet.

I am rather fond of Goold: he directed the majestic 'Last Days of Judas Iscariot' and I'm particularly looking forward to his interpretation of The Merchant of Venice next month in Stratford.

It's a very striking staging, and the cast are excellent: Sam Troughton and Mariah Gale are wonderful as the young lovers, with Gale especially delightful in capturing the gauche angst of teenage passion. There is a fierceness to her reactions, her pleas, her impatience that captures youthful emotions very well. The dance sequence where Romeo first sees Juliet is especially well-handled as they move towards passion: pilgrimage indeed. And though in such ensemble works it always seems unfair to pick on particular actors, I'd like to especially praise Noma Dumezweni - again giving a storming performance as the Nurse to follow on from her intelligent work in other productions by the ensemble, especially in The Winter's Tale. I was sad to miss Forbes Masson as Friar Laurence, but Peter Peverley handled it wonderfully well in his absence as the foil to the Nurse.

And I have to make mention of this Mercutio, who offers bawd with extra bawdiness! Jonjo O'Neill, blond haired for extra Puckish frisson, revels in his extra-textual gestures and noises which have the audience wincing and giggling in suitably puerile blushes. Romeo clearly adores his friend, but like many friends in youth, his bawdy humour is at the edge of tolerable behaviour ---- and still we laugh and love Mercutio for it. One can well imagine there would have been much delight in a Shakespearean theatre at such a portrayal!

As ever, what can often be missed in compliments - costume, lighting etc - is much deserving of praise. The fights and dances are beautifully choreographed and the end of the pre-interval sequence, where the lighting lends a glow to the embracing lovers is truly magical. The juxtaposition of modern(ish) clothing for the outcast lovers, and 'period' dress for the other members of the cast is well done and is emphasised in the last sequence where the families, like all families, are bought to realisation of the deaths their feuding has led to. Indeed, this is a neat book-ending: at the start the transition from the prologue, seamlessly moves from a warning to turn off phones, to handing tourist 'Romeo' an audio guide which plays aloud the opening well-known lines. And at the end, a similar move is made as Balthasar looks over the devastation that one mislaid letter causes in the midst of a family feud. It's a nice directorial use of the costuming.

Beautiful. Worth seeing if you have not had chance already: and on until 2 April 2011.

Oh, and if you sit in the front row, beware: you may get your picture taken and be the subject of discussion in the play. Just warning you.

Reviews:
Telegraph
Guardian (spring 2010 version)
Guardian (winter at the Roundhouse)

Stratford weekend

Awh, what a lovely weekend we had.

Good food.

And all the best bits of the RSC old theatre are still there.


And the new theatre itself is looking good with all the best features from the Courtyard integrated in.


The fact that we had the chance to meet up with our lovely friends Michelle and Nicole (from THAT weekend in Stratford) was just perfect.

Theatre Review: 'The Winter's Tale' RSC @ Roundhouse London, 30 December 2010

I'm not nearly as well read (or seen on stage) of Shakespeare as I would like to be, so there is something rather wonderful about coming to plays NOT fully aware of the play's narrative or previous versions.

HLW had tipped me off that the RSC's recent ensemble production of The Winter's Tale was worth seeing as she had seen it at Stratford earlier in 2010. This meant that I was broadly alerted to some of the more dramatic stage actions, but this did not spoil things.

When I saw that they were doing The Winter's Tale in London at the Camden Roundhouse in December near Xmas, I could not resist booking for Neil and I, even though this meant that we visited London either side of Xmas (oh SUCH hardship!) - but it was worth the expense.

It's an erratic tale in many ways: lurching from conviviality to raging jealousy to brutal paranoia and across to ribald bawdy humour, young love, knavish rogues, finally ending in magical revivification.

Though casting a slighter figure than I had expected, Greg Hicks was outstanding as the king who brings down the wrath of the oracle (and more) upon on his vengeful jealousy. I was also impressed by the imperious Noma Dumezweni as Paulina who was utterly convincing and powerful in her efforts to convince Leontes of his error and then to bring the prophecy full circle when she brings forth the statue of the wronged Queen Hermione. And the set designers excel themselves in how they visually bring everything to life (though it creates a helluva job for the interval!) --- and if you only know ONE stage direction from all of theatre ("Exit, pursued by a bear"), then be prepared to find a far more active bear this time around.

All in all, a thoroughly enchanting production -- the ensemble take up residence in New York from July 2011. Anyone fancying a trip would well enjoy the opportunity.

Theatre Review: final performance of Morte D'Arthur - RSC, Courtyard Theatre, Stratford Saturday 28 August 2010

WOW.

The Greg Doran and Mike Poulton production of Morte D'Arthur was certainly something I had wanted to see. But we were far too tardy for our own good in booking for the current season at Stratford and it seemed likely we'd therefore miss out.

Whilst reviews were best described as 'mixed', I felt in this case I could trust Billington's enthusiastic Guardian review. And I felt even more loss at missing the chance to see the RSC production.

Thankfully, help came from an unexpected source - the combination of 'erring on the side of caution' from a friend (who felt the production was unlikely to be suitable for a young girl) and a lovely family of grandma, daughter and granddaughter that Helen and I had met back in October 2008.* And so it was, that at the last minute Neil and I got the chance to go and see Morte D'Arthur.

Neil and I travelled down and arrived in a storm of drumming from a troupe of Chinese drummers: a welcome for us only just about topped by the delightful sight of two of the family that H and I had befriended. I felt rotten that we were depriving grandma and granddaughter of their tickets (since it would be the mum who was accompanying us) but with such an enthusiastic welcome it was hard to feel bad for long. The excitement of the drumming performance set our hearts racing - and our youngest member even more so when she realised how many of the actors had come out to enjoy the lively performance. There was an especially giddy delight in spotting JonJo O'Neill (no NOT the 1980s jockey, despite Neil's poor jokes!) as he was a firm favourite and one that the family had already delighted in running into the previous evening out shopping.

JonJo is utterly charming - how could he not be with such a delightful Belfast accent - and the pleasure our youngest companion got from standing next to him was positively radiant. Of course, this had to be the day where we had NO CAMERA with us (doh!) so at last we frantically pulled out my phone and I passed it on to grandma who scuttled over to take a picture of the two of them. I watched on, only to be determinedly waved over to join the shot!


(I'll let my friends keep the full image as private as I'm very aware of how photographs can be misused - but the smile our youngest friend had was infectious).

We knew it would be a long production, the show was not much under 4 hours even with a break and pause, and I did fear that years of 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail' / 'Spamalot' would have tainted the narrative too much. But we needn't have feared; the production came with plenty of intentional laughter, but it was also incredibly beautiful - the costumes were fantastic - and the music was incredible. (The RSC musicians must be some of the most talented working in theatre anywhere - their range and skills are breathtaking to listen to). Forbes Masson again proved that he has the most incredible voice - the heights his vocal range can hold are the sounds of angels (and it was especially nice to tell him so after the performance).


Sam Troughton (Arthur) and Forbes Masson (Merlin)

Split into three sections, the play covers revenge, magic, adultery and religion in almost equal measures. There is a devil (quite terrifying), there are family feuds that make soaps look straightforward, and there is love in all forms -- unrequited, cuckolded, transgressive, and pure. No character is truly without flaw - though the charming Gareth, who arrives as a bear before winning over the court to become a knight, comes pretty close. At the other end of the spectrum is the nigh irredeemable Mordred, played with great relish by Peter Peverley as an oily, tell-tale, conniving weed. And the actor seems such a nice bloke! But he does a great job with a wicked part since for all his evil, the audience can't help but laugh at his nastiness (for example when he's trying to arrange it so he can marry 'widowed' Guenever, his efforts to look pleased at hearing Arthur isn't dead as expected -- 'I had letters to the contrary' -- doesn't convince anyone, but it's mighty hilarious nonetheless!)

Of all the characters in the winding tale, Launcelot is the most deluded; he believes his love for Guenever is pure but it is hard to deny that he is 'naked' with her in her bedchamber (though not as naked as some maybe thought possible). The hapless Elaine -- Mariah Gale as a quintessential teenager in full-blown crush-mode -- inevitably falls for Launcelot's looks, charm and politeness, completely missing that his heart belongs to another. And in pursuing the Grail, it is Launcelot's heart that sees bewinged angels.


Jonjo O'Neill as Launcelot and James Howard as the Grail Angel in Morte d'Arthur. Photograph: Tristram Kenton for the Guardian

I feel so incredibly privileged that we got to see this show - it was spectacular and beautiful on every level. But there were other aside pleasures: besides reuniting with our friends of the Saturday October 2008 matinee, I also ran into a couple who had sat near Helen and I on the Friday October 2008 evening performance. And then, in a lovely reversal of the Saturday afternoon of October 2008 when I had encouraged our youngest friend to the stage door, grandma encouraged me to do my own autograph gathering. I ended up speaking to and getting autographs from 15 of the cast and crew - including, to my great delight, Greg Doran. Everyone was utterly delightful as we chatted about hot weighty costumes, desperate thirst, loving the chance to sing, the chaos of stage door chatter, the art of signing in mid-air and much more. I wouldn't have dared do all that without encouragement - I kept automatically lurching back into helping smaller people forward, and loaning my pen out - so it was a real treat to end up with so many signatures.

A total delight and a day I will treasure for quite a long time.


*You remember October 2008? When Love's Labours Lost and Hamlet ruled our every activity...

Twelfth Night: RSC Courtyard Theatre, Stratford Saturday matinee 31 October 2009

Courtesy of the lovely Helen Lisette, Neil and I with Helen headed to Stratford yesterday to see the current RSC production of Twelfth Night. In the wake of having been ill last weekend, hauling myself to work from midweek, and surrendering to the laughter of Mitch Benn on Friday in Nottingham, I was rather running out of steam. However, the prospect of the play and getting to meet lovely Poly G was more than enough to get my energy levels boosted to make the trip (on which note, Poly is just as chic and delightful and Italian Greek* as I had imagined, and it was a real pleasure to finally meet her).

I'd tried, as ever, to stay away from play reviews, but had nevertheless caught a sense of the response to this production of Twelfth Night which seemed to be at best mixed. A colleague from work, a long-standing attendee at RSC Stratford productions, hadn't been best impressed - though her reaction certainly wasn't helped by a dislike of Richard Wilson (even though his character Malvolio makes a very particular contribution to the play, he really can't be called the central character).

So how does this production work? Well, the setting is beautiful - opulent, evocative - and thus Illyria magically conveys its Greece/Turkish/Albania origins. The costumes too, as ever, are delightful - even the 'Joseph-and-his-Technicolour-Dream-Coat' that Miltos Yerolemou as Feste wears works in the context. The music is also entrancing, though perhaps sometimes a little too intrusive: the musical numbers within the play, however, are handled well and with a sensitivity benefiting from a less grand-standing tone of performing from Yerolemou (something which he doesn't consistently manage throughout the play).

Which brings me to the performances. Nancy Carroll as Viola/Cesario is wonderful, and is a stunning twin match for the sweet Sam Alexander as Sebastian (the latter still fondly remembered from his performances in last year's Hamlet and LLL). Alexandra Gilbreath is similarly breathtaking as her Lady Olivia moves from closed off mourning to giddy love, and it is hard not to follow her imaginative leap when Olivia is confronted by the visual delights of the twins: "most wonderful!" The biggest shame is that I really didn't feel Count Orsino (as played by Jo Stone-Fewings) was that big a deal: he seemed a bit 'meh' in terms of any real passionate pursuit of Lady Olivia, and too bland to justify true appeal to Viola. But maybe that's more to do with my limited familiarity with the play - perhaps he's meant to be rather pointless.

Elsewhere, Pamela Nomvete makes the role of Maria neatly spikey and sparky, yet also misguided in her edge of malevolence conducting the downfall of Malvolio. The comedic contributions of Richard McCabe and James Fleet as Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek respectively are as light as they should be, with appropriately suitable shades of darkness and dim-wittedness also respectively. How were Belch's farts done? I really don't want to know... and Fleet really needs to be on his game to nonchalantly place himself in exactly the right spot to not be concussed by a tree.

But I felt less certain about the aforementioned Yerolemou as the Fool: he's clearly massively talented, stature being no inhibitor to graceful movement, sharp physical or verbal comedy or to possessing an incredible voice. But the pacing of Feste's humour sometimes felt too rushed/manic: I know that without familiarity, Elizabethean wit can by-pass modern audiences but I did sometimes wonder if I had just missed something in the direction or delivery of certain lines.

Moreover, whilst Wilson is indeed a fine actor, but I can't help but feel that his Malvolio is just a little too old and Wilson's physique does not lend itself, as perhaps other actors may be fortunate in managing to convey, an inner youthfulness set free when made to be so foolish in love. The ludicrousness of Malvolio's hoodwinked passion is not just that his dour demeanor is replaced by an uncomfortable and unfamiliar use of smiling but that some longing is released by the possibility that the Lady Olivia loves him, and that this possibility is enough to drive him to acts against the grain of his previous tone of behaviour. Though Malvolio indeed cuts a tragic furious figure by the end, I wasn't quite convinced of the journey his character had undergone. And that felt like a slight disappointment. (I also couldn't help but think of the eloquent way Wilson played Eddie Clockerty and his simultaneous tolerance and loathing towards the cantankerous Janice Toner [Kate Murphy] in Tutti Frutti, though that may be apropos of little).

But, overall, this was a really great way to spend an afternoon. I'm slowly clocking up Shakespeare productions (I'm planning to see Winter's Tale when they bring the production back next year, and the new productions of Romeo & Juliet and Anthony and Cleopatra, plus Morte D'Arthur if I can), so it was rather exciting to get another under my belt. And it was good to see another comedy -- Julius Caesar may be good, but it's not known for its laughs and Neil especially was glad on an autumnal day to get some giggles in place.

Anyway, Twelfth Night currently runs at Stratford until 21 November before hitting London from pre-Xmas until late February 2010.

*Clearly my European identification abilities are currently scrambled along with my vocal system. ARGH!