Macbeth – April 2013

Experience: 3/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Jamie Lloyd

Venue: Trafalgar Studios

Date: Thursday 25th April 2013

We were running late today and nearly missed this performance; the day would have gone better if we had. Steve may have ‘enjoyed’ this slightly more than I did, but then he was one in from the end of our row and thus could see a bit more of the action. Our seats were at the back of the stage, second row, and while they gave us an interesting perspective, the poor sightlines made our experience worse than it might have been had we sat elsewhere. (We were late booking, I should point out.) Judging by the gaps we could see after the interval, we weren’t alone in our opinion of the production; only our eternal optimism kept us there for another turgid hour or so.

The grunge design was combined with slasher movie tropes – rubber masks, lots of blood, etc. – to create a derivative and superficial version of the play apparently intended purely to impress the (theatrically) inexperienced young women who had flocked to this afternoon’s performance for a sight of James McAvoy. They were thrilled, judging by the number of them standing at the end, and I just hope that this sort of crass commercial success doesn’t lead to lots more of the same clogging up London’s (or the UK’s) theatres. Not that I mind a production making money, but setting such a low standard would be a disaster for British theatre in the long run.

Now for some details on the staging. With seats at the back of the stage, the acting space was mainly a broad arch which held various doors and had a curved space in front of it (I’ll orient my descriptions as for the regular seating). They used several trapdoors all over this space, and also entered along the aisle between the rear seats. For the arrival of Birnam Wood, they even opened up the rear doors of the theatre to let the massed ranks in; all six of them. The brief glimpse of daylight was a welcome sight: the end of the tunnel was nigh.

There were grilles set into the floor under the arch, so naturally there was rain from time to time, if you can glorify the few spots of drizzle they produced with such a title, and given that this was clearly meant to be a gorefest, there was even a light misting of blood towards the end when Macduff killed Macbeth – lots of cleaning up to do before tonight’s performance. The stage furniture was all of a piece with the set: grimy, battered and in need of a good clean (or perhaps a trip to the dump). They used plastic bottles for the wine, and for the ‘feast’, Macbeth ladled baked beans out of a well-worn catering pan onto enamel plates. Two trolleys appeared from time to time; they were attached to each other to form the banqueting table and then turned through ninety degrees for Macduff’s castle in Fife.

England was a shade cleaner, but that may have been because of the incessant rain. We were told we were now in England by having a number of actors who were draped in St George’s cross tabards, covered with clear plastic ponchos, walk from the back onto the front of the stage. They then formed up so that we could read their placards, turning around after a while so that we folk at the back could read the slogans; I forget what they were, but nothing remarkable or relevant. They soon left the stage to Malcolm and Macduff. Both Steve and I felt this staging was something of a calumny; if you think England’s wet….. The costumes were along similar lines, with everybody making do with cast-offs with patches and rips, and the whole wardrobe needed several cycles in the laundrette before I’d go near it, not to mention the grime on the cast.

The play began with lights out and a loud noise. With the lights back on, the three witches appeared through trapdoors and were each wearing some sort of gas mask: kudos to the actresses for getting their lines out clearly through those. They wore army fatigues, but very tatty ones, and I noticed that the nearest witch had a lot of blood on her neck; yep, she was the “bloody man” in the next scene. After arranging their next meeting the witches were quickly off, and with much noise and rushing about Duncan and his men took the stage.

This first explanation of the situation was good enough, and for the next scene the witches, having wound up their charm, stood aside as Macbeth and Banquo whooped and hollered their way onto the stage. I know they’d just come from winning a battle, but to me they looked like two soldiers suffering from PTSD acting out some nightmare flashback scenario. Given that this production was set in the future and focusing on the breakdown of society, perhaps that was the intended association, but it simply didn’t appeal to me as a suitable introduction of the main character.

The prophecies went well enough, with good reactions from both Macbeth and Banquo, and then the messengers from the king turned up. Again, the emphasis was on brutality, with Banquo and Macbeth overpowering Ross and Angus and holding swords to their throats as if they didn’t know who to trust; fair enough, given Duncan’s comments about the ex-Thane of Cawdor. Even so, I felt this went on for too long, and even after relaxing their grip and appearing to accept the men as friends, they grabbed them again later in the scene for no apparent reason. It seemed a bit gimmicky to me and didn’t really fit with the text.

The scene with Duncan receiving the news of the previous Cawdor’s execution reminded me how foolish this king could be; from recognising that “there’s no art to find the mind’s construction in the face” he’s about to build “an absolute trust” on another man who will betray him. Macbeth and Banquo were gracious in their responses to Duncan, with Banquo being more direct and less flowery than Macbeth. Macbeth actually slid forward on his knees just before Duncan announced the succession would go to Malcolm, but I don’t think anyone else noticed it. Macbeth was certainly upset at this news and not only didn’t go over to congratulate Malcolm, he left the king as fast as he could with the excuse of preparing his castle for the king’s visit.

Lady Macbeth’s accent was a little off to my ear, and she came across like a keelie from a housing estate, as if we were watching a Scottish version of Shameless. Her invocation of evil was so-so, and her brief chat with Macbeth didn’t promise much at this point, although the sexual aspect of their relationship was clear.

The comments about Macbeth’s castle seemed totally out of place given the context of a futuristic, weather-drowned Scotland. After Duncan’s arrival, the performance went down the toilet, literally. From my vantage point I had already spotted a loo seat on the far side of the stage, tucked behind the walls. It was pretty obvious how it would be used, so when it was brought forward for this scene I wasn’t at all surprised when Macbeth rushed over to it and threw up; a bad case of pre-assassination nerves. He was there for a while, which gave me time to notice the work belt around his waist, and I had a brief chuckle to myself; not back two hours from the wars and already the lady wife had him doing all those little jobs round the castle!

From an unpromising start, this was probably one of the best scenes overall. I very much liked the way that James McAvoy emphasised the importance of a host not killing a guest, something specific to Scottish culture and one of the reasons for the strong feelings of horror at the Glencoe Massacre – the Campbells were the guests of the MacDonalds they killed. I haven’t seen a production bring that out before – well done. Then I enjoyed Macbeth’s off-hand reference to having received praise from “all sorts of people”, as if he couldn’t actually remember who. But the best bit was the way Lady Macbeth used the experience of losing a child, presumably an experience they shared, to hook him into her plans. His look of suffering indicated how much this loss meant to him as well, and it was one of the best interpretations of this moment that I’ve seen (or partly seen – Lady Macbeth had her back to me throughout).

The scenes involving the killing of the king were OK, and then we got to the porter (combined with Seyton?). She spat before the word “English” and was otherwise unremarkable. Lady Macbeth appeared to faint as a distraction this time, and Duncan’s sons did the usual flit to England and Ireland. I think the interval came after this, but I can’t be sure. If it was, then the second half started with the old man and Ross discussing the situation. When Macduff arrived, his family were with him as well, and the Macduffs all headed off to Fife together.

After checking on Banquo’s planned activities for the day, Macbeth spoke to the murderers, who were being played by two of the witches wearing rubber masks – one was a pig’s head and the other some kind of scary face. Again, they did well to get their lines out clearly with these obstructions in the way.

Nothing to report from Macbeth’s long conversation with his wife, nor from the killing of Banquo apart from the fact that the porter/Seyton was the third murderer and wore a scary clown mask. The banquet scene was OK, and Banquo’s ghost didn’t appear for the first of Macbeth’s visions, which allowed us to see his madness from the perspective of the court. Banquo did come up through a trapdoor at the front of the stage for the second occasion, and by this time the stage was getting pretty messy with spilled beans and drinks going everywhere.

Immediately after this scene, the witches joined Macbeth in the banqueting hall. They made up an evil-looking concoction in the one remaining cooking pan on the table and gave him ladles of it to drink, suggesting that the apparitions were drug-induced hallucinations which Macbeth saw while gazing into the pot (I think).  For the final apparition Banquo appeared on stage with his descendants.

The killing of the Macduff clan was a drawn-out affair. The two trolleys had been turned round so they crossed the stage widthways. Lady Macduff’s conversations with Ross and her daughter were OK but nothing special. The warning came too late as usual – if she’d got her luggage together sooner instead of bitching about her husband she’d have been long gone before the murderers got there.

She hid her daughter inside one of the trolleys; it had a shiny door, and I wondered briefly if the Macduffs were going to be attacked by velociraptors (as in Jurassic Park). No such luck, although I suspect the entire theatre would be cleared double quick if one of those creatures had actually appeared. The two murderers were followed onto the stage by Macbeth himself, and after Lady Macduff had been killed on the table and the body taken away, it was Macbeth who heard a small sound from the trolley. He paused by the door, then closed it softly and moved back towards the trolleys to see what he could find. He called gently for her to come out, but she didn’t, so he simply stuck his sword through the side of the cupboard and she thrashed about inside for a bit to indicate her death throes. All a bit overdone for me.

Down in England, Malcolm’s confrontation with Macduff went reasonably well, although by this time I was heartily sick of the pernicious shouting which so many of the cast were doing regardless of the situation. Jamie Ballard, as Macduff, has already shown his skill at delivering Shakespearean dialogue in the superb Hamlet at the Tobacco Factory. Forbes Masson (Banquo) has done sterling work in many Shakespearean plays, not least Michael Boyd’s Histories cycle. So why, oh why, did these excellent actors have to shout so many of their lines needlessly? We could only conclude that this was a directorial choice, and a pretty poor one at that. When they weren’t shouting, the dialogue came across well enough, and the effect of his wife and child’s death on Macduff was clear to see.

The rest of the play rattled through without much to comment on or commend. Unlike an earlier production, I was unable to fall asleep to pass the time, so if there had been anything interesting I’m pretty sure I would have spotted or heard it. For the “tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow” speech, Macbeth was sitting on a chair just out of my sight near the front of the stage, so I couldn’t tell if his expression supported the strange disjointed and warbling delivery of the lines. Without this visual assistance, the speech sounded like an attempt to do ‘something different’ which ended up being something ridiculous, “full of sound and fury, signifying nothing”.

During the battle scenes, Macbeth was confronted by a soldier with a rifle, against which he had nothing to offer but a knife or two – kitchen implements were often the weapon of choice in this production. It was hardly believable, despite Macbeth’s conviction that he couldn’t be killed, that he would be able to disarm his gun-toting opponent, but that’s what they wanted us to accept. I was happy enough that in this dystopian setting guns would be in short supply, but that usually means that those who have them tend to beat those who don’t, at least in this sort of battle.

When Macbeth was killed by Macduff the red mist descended, literally, making a puddle in the middle of the stage. After the body had been removed through a trapdoor, the final scene, with Macbeth’s bloody head being brought up out of the trapdoor by Macduff, caused consternation amongst the young women in the front rows; hands were clapped to just about every mouth in horror. I was delighted; at last we could leave! After the minimum applause I felt I could get away with, I edged round the side of the seats and made my way out into the fresh air – delightful.

This production suffered from having a concept imposed on it, which in my experience usually leads to a shallower interpretation of the text, as only those bits which support the concept are explored in any depth. So much of the staging was gimmicky instead of being thought through, and I found the attempt to turn this play into a study of a society in disintegration just didn’t work. Too much of the play’s structure depends on a society which is working, and which only goes into meltdown because of Macbeth’s murderous act; the ripples of deceit and terror spread outwards, catching everyone in their grip. If the basis for this meltdown is climate change, then the significance of Macbeth’s choices is lessened, and the contrast with the reign of the ‘good’ king Duncan becomes irrelevant. Even so, had the dialogue been delivered better instead of via bellowing, and more thought been given to the staging in some places, this might have been an interesting side light on this troubling play. Too bad they missed the opportunity.

Despite these constraints, James McAvoy’s performance was good enough to confirm his talent on stage as well as screen, and we’d be happy to see him again in a (hopefully) better production.

The Winslow Boy – April 2013

Experience: 9/10

By Terence Rattigan

Directed by Lindsay Posner

Venue: Old Vic

Date: Wednesday 24th April 2013

There was the usual screen in front of the stage at the start of this performance, showing an extract from a legal text detailing Petition of Rights procedures. Being familiar with the play, this was quite interesting to read, though as it was only one page I soon ran out of material. When the screen rose, the set was revealed: an Edwardian drawing room with the door to the hall on the left wall, double folding doors to the dining room centre back and French windows to the garden on the right. The sofa was central, in front of the dining room doors, and had round plush green cushions. A matching chair stood on the left and a brown leather wingback chair on the right with a table beside it. The telephone was on a small table by the main door, and the remaining furniture and furnishings were all suitably appropriate, as were the costumes.

This was a very good production. Henry Goodman played Mr Winslow with more of an emphasis on the comedy than I would have wished, but he still gave a very strong central performance; I wasn’t as moved as I have been with some other productions, but I wasn’t dry-eyed either. The rest of the cast were all top-notch too, and the mock trial scene at the end of the first half went very well. This time, I fancied there was a chance for Sir Robert and Grace to have a relationship in the future. I will just mention Wendy Nottingham as the maid, Violet. It can be difficult nowadays for an audience to appreciate just how eccentric a maid Violet is, but today it was clear from the outset that she ‘just wouldn’t do’ for most respectable families with her casual attitude and complete lack of discretion. A lovely performance in a very strong ensemble.

The Mousetrap – April 2013

Experience: 8/10

By Agatha Christie

Directed by Ian Watt-Smith

Venue: Theatre Royal, Brighton

Date: Thursday 18th April 2013

I very much enjoyed seeing this for the second time. The first was back in 1987, and for a number of reasons it wasn’t a great experience. The play was clinging on by the tips of its fingernails to the West End supported only by its long-running record, the set looked like the original one from the 1950s, and by that time the regular cast changes had brought the performance down to the level of stock characterisations and slightly hammy acting. We spotted some obvious points early on, and if we hadn’t been waiting for more twists to follow we would have nabbed the culprit before the interval.

Not so tonight. Refreshed and refurbished, this performance absolutely sparkled, reminding us that Agatha’s work is often underrated. The characters were all believable (for the 1950s), even if we have to make some allowance for the strange foreigner type, and although I knew the outcome I found myself wondering if I’d misremembered; we were offered such a rich variety of suspects that if I hadn’t known whodunnit, I would have been lucky to guess this time around. And they took full advantage of the humour, one aspect of Agatha’s work that I’ve always enjoyed, with plenty of laughs, especially in the first half as we met the characters and the situation was set up.

The individual performances were all good. In alphabetical order: Steven France carried off the nervous, overly-social Christopher Wren really well, while Karl Howman was nicely enigmatic as Mr Paravicini, the unexpected guest. Bruno Langley’s Giles Ralston was completely unsuited to running a guest house, as he didn’t seem to like anyone but his wife; mind you, his Basil Fawlty-style put down of Mrs Boyle was very enjoyable. Elizabeth Power was splendid as Mrs Boyle, an old termagant who could rattle off a string of criticisms faster than a Gatling gun, and Bob Saul did well as the persistent Detective Sergeant Trotter, whose investigative efforts led to the final revelation. Graham Seed gave Major Metcalf an air of relaxed authority, while Jemma Walker did a good job of showing us Mollie Ralston’s liveliness and kindness. Clare Wilkie completed the cast as the mannish Miss Casewell, an intelligent young woman with a brusque attitude and no fondness for chit-chat. Her method of getting the best chair in the room for herself was good fun to watch. One of these people was a murderer, but who?

Well, I’m not going to tell anyone. That the secret hasn’t been revealed is something of a wonder in these days of instant worldwide communication, and one I’m grateful for. Having seen this 60th anniversary production, I’m now firmly convinced that the play can go on a lot longer, and deserves to if this sort of standard can be maintained. Unlike the cast, tonight’s audience were dreadful; the fusillade of coughing in the second half nearly distracted me from the dialogue on stage, but fortunately I was already so involved that I could shrug it off. At least we gave the actors a very warm response at the end, which they thoroughly deserved.

Two Gentlemen Of Verona – April 2013

Experience: 9/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Andrew Hilton

Company: SATTF

Venue: Tobacco Factory

Date: Wednesday 17th April 2013

One of the joys of arriving early to queue for our seats in the Tobacco Factory is the opportunity to see some of the cast chilling out before the show. Tonight we were lucky enough to see a major star relaxing on one of the sofas – Lollio, aka Crab. His long black form lay elegantly on the seat opposite; he was completely unfazed to be among his adoring public. Eventually, after a languorous stretch, he strolled into the auditorium to prepare for an arduous evening’s performance – more on that story later.

We sat in the front row at the far end opposite the entrance. The opening set consisted of three metal tables, each with white table clothes and two metal chairs. One of the tables had a sugar bowl, another had two small coffee cups while the third had a used plate with a knife and fork tucked tidily together. The platform in the left corner, now to our right, held the musicians at the start, and was used occasionally as a balcony during the performance. Each pillar had a square box for a base, creating extra seats. Two carved wooden chairs were used for the Milan court scenes, otherwise the stage was bare. Costumes were Edwardian in style.

The first scene made the relationship between Valentine and Proteus very clear. I got the impression that Valentine’s departure was partly triggered by Proteus allowing a woman to come between them, for all that he made out it was to develop his career, and that theirs was a friendship, or love, that had never been tested until this point. The formality of the language also reminded me that this is a tale of courtly love, with different rules to what we consider ‘normal’ behaviour, hence Valentine’s strange actions in the final scene.

Julia and her maid also gave us a good introduction to their characters in a scene which was clearly a template for Portia’s first chat with Nerissa in The Merchant Of Venice. Julia’s contrary attitude was well demonstrated in her attitude to the letter which Lucetta tempted her with, and I did wonder how this would be reconciled to her steadfastness in love later on.

Proteus was soon despatched to Milan to follow his friend, and then we were off to Milan ourselves to witness the change in Valentine’s attitude towards romance. He may not have been the brightest chap before falling for Sylvia, but he was certainly one of the biggest fools now. Speed was quick to spot Sylvia’s device in having Valentine write a love letter to himself, but the dumb lunk in question was completely bewildered by their strange conversation. It was a very entertaining scene.

Proteus took his leave of Julia, and we were in the perfect position to see the look on Julia’s face when the parting “holy kiss” was placed on her cheek instead of her lips. Not impressed. He did actually hit the target with a second kiss just before he left, which made up for it. And so to the big entrance. Crab sauntered on stage with some character or other – my text says Launce – and while Crab lay down to rest for a while (near us – we were so lucky!) this other chap wittered on for a bit about something or other until it was time for Crab to make his exit.

I tease. Of course the dog was a distraction, but Chris Donnelly was an excellent Launce, and managed to hold the stage despite his co-star’s presence. The shoes were placed on opposite pillar seats so Launce had a lot of movement to do, which helped engage our attention, and he delivered the lines so well that I could almost see his family weeping. With Launce’s departure, Crab stood up and followed, and as there were a few chairs to bring on for the next scene, the star had time to clear the stage without distracting us from the rest of the performance.

Lord Turio was nicely played as an Edwardian fop by Paul Currier, wearing a striped blazer and sporting a dandified moustache. The battle of wits between him and Valentine was good fun, and then the Duke, Sylvia’s father, entered with news of Proteus‘ arrival. Sadly, Proteus fell in love with Sylvia at first sight, and so the troubles began. Piers Wehner managed the transition from infatuated lover of Julia to villainous worshipper of Sylvia very well. His conscience pricked him for a while, but he soon thrust it behind him, along with his loving thoughts of Julia, and began plotting how to get Valentine out of the picture.

The story rattled along at a good clip. Julia made her plans to visit Proteus, and in this production Lucetta came with her dressed as a woman. I don’t know if there’s a different version of the text or if they simply inserted some new lines; either way, Lucetta’s comment about older women not being liable to sexual advances was well received. Julia’s skittishness had turned into impatience to see her love, and her conviction that he was still faithful to her, knowing what she would find in Milan, was more sad than funny.

Proteus betrayed his erstwhile friend with a show of great reluctance, and the Duke discovering Valentine’s ladder was a very funny scene. Valentine wore the necessary bulky coat, and his naivety was well to the fore again. Instead of realising that he’d been rumbled, he completely believed the Duke’s story of a love affair, possibly even hoping that with his own passion, the Duke would be more favourably inclined when Valentine and Sylvia’s elopement was discovered. His banishment and Sylvia’s unhappiness, together with Julia’s arrival in Milan and discovery of Proteus’ unfaithfulness, were all well done and we were soon back in the forest where Sylvia was trying to keep away from Proteus by climbing one of the pillars.

After Valentine had rescued her and Proteus had apologised and been reconciled to him, Valentine’s ‘gift’ of Sylvia to Proteus was greeted with astonishment by the audience, as it should be. The Duke then resolved all problems by welcoming Valentine as his future son-in-law and Valentine finished the text by offering “one feast, one house, one mutual happiness”. Sylvia and Julia, who was still in her manly disguise, looked at each other. Then Julia held out her elbow, Sylvia took it and the two women strode off stage together to the amazement of their partners and to our laughter and applause. It was a great way to finish things, and we applauded long and loud as they took their bows, with Crab getting an extra burst, naturally.

I haven’t gone into a lot of detail as this was a good straightforward staging with a few nice touches, such as the ending. There were a lot of echoes for me tonight. I took a quick note that the parting of Speed and Launce echoed their master’s parting, but for the life of me I can’t spot where that was in the text unless it’s the recital of the ‘virtues’ of a woman, presumably one that Launce is considering marrying. This scene also echoes the one in Comedy Of Errors, and the repetition of the letter-tearing was another item that came across clearly tonight. Steve spotted that Crab yawned at an appropriate moment, and while the dog was good, the humans were even better. Apart from Proteus, Turio and Launce, I felt that Marc Geoffrey was splendid as Speed, and Nickie Goldie made the most of Lucetta. Dorothea Myer-Bennett and Lisa Kay were very strong as Julia and Sylvia respectively, and the rest of the cast gave good support in a variety of roles. The only weak link this time was the music; normally excellent, this was rather off-key and weak. It didn’t spoil the performance all that much, but better music would have lifted our rating even higher.

As You Like It – April 2013

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Maria Aberg

Venue: RST

Date: Tuesday 16th April 2013

My heart sank as we entered the auditorium and I realised they were playing the low frequency torture sounds again, my least favourite start to a performance. I managed to last out without throwing up. The set was a raised square platform within the main stage, with a few feet left free on three sides. It had a chequerboard pattern on it while the rest of the stage floor was blank. A pillar by the left walkway was echoed by a number of other pillars, all square, all grey, dotted around the rear half of the stage and there were dead leaves everywhere. Orlando and Adam came on before the start to sweep them up, making a tidy pile of half of them near the back right corner which they loaded into a wheelbarrow. Along the back of the stage were more grey wooden panels at different angles. Everything looked dark grey to begin with, including the clothes, but when the lights changed for the start, I could see that the pillars were brown.

Alex Waldmann as Orlando in As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

Alex Waldmann as Orlando in As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

While Adam removed the wheelbarrow and disposed of the leaves elsewhere, Orlando kept on sweeping, pausing for a while and sitting on the platform to ruminate on his position in life. His discussion with Adam began after Adam had brought the wheelbarrow back and positioned it by the pile of remaining leaves near the front of the stage, and to my relief the torture sounds stopped the moment the dialogue began.

I’m pleased to say the dialogue was clear and slower than the pace it’s usually delivered at these days. Mind you, Orlando did put in an extra pause so he wouldn’t be talking over someone’s mobile phone ringtone, but even so this meant that the situation with his older brother was clearly explained, and in general I was very aware of all of the family relationships tonight. He sat down to smoke a rollup, and was still smoking when Oliver arrived, carrying a cup and saucer. After a few lines, Oliver signalled to Adam to take the cup and saucer away, and he left the stage to the brothers, who were soon fighting. Oliver started it, slapping Orlando hard, but Orlando fought back and gave as good as he got. Excellent practice for the match against Charles, I reckoned.

Adam’s return broke up the fight, and Orlando seemed willing to believe his brother when Oliver said “You shall have some part of your will”. We soon found out, however, that Oliver was up to no good, and a splendid villain Luke Norris turned out to be, showing us a man tormented by the very existence of his brother but with no knowledge of the reason why. We were also treated to a superb little cameo by Daniel Easton as Dennis, a servant I don’t normally remember. He simpered a lot and had to be chased off by Oliver to call Charles to him; hardly any lines but nicely done.

I couldn’t get a handle on Charles’ accent. Mark Holgate, who played him, was clear, but the dialogue was strained as if he were trying to hide an accent or put on an unaccustomed one. I was aware that their opening lines were simply a way of telling the audience the situation and tonight it seemed a bit clunky to have Charles deliver ‘news’ that was obviously months out of date. Once they started on the wrestling match, though, it was a different story, and Oliver’s claims that he spoke “but brotherly of” Orlando were met with appropriate laughter from the audience.

The first court scene followed, and the initial staging was one of those symbolic efforts that don’t do a lot for me. Strip lights were lowered amongst the pillars at the back, and various men and women in evening dress gradually collected in formation under them, mostly to the left of the rear stage. Celia and Rosalind were part of the group, and with some music playing they all began to do some hand jive movements. After a short while, I could see that Rosalind was out of step with the others, and eventually she broke formation completely and staggered away from them, looking like she needed some air. Celia followed her soon after, and I think the rest of the cast carried on for a short while, though I don’t remember when they stopped or when they left the stage.

Both Celia (Joanna Horton) and Rosalind (Pippa Nixon) made it clear that these two characters had a very close relationship, and I loved it when Celia, trying to lift her cousin’s spirits, said “let me turn monster” and made a monster face, holding her hands like claws in front of her – very “grr, aargh”, though she didn’t make the sounds. Rosalind finally started laughing, and Celia repeated the movements, just to make sure. This meant the ladies were in good humour when Touchstone arrived to call Celia to her father. Touchstone (Nicolas Tennant) wore a bright red nose, orange leggings and a jacket. He also had a bowler hat, and when he placed the women on either side of him in the middle of the stage to explain about the knight and the mustard, they teased him by knocking his hat off.

Monsieur Le Beau became La Belle this time, a female courtier, and although Karen Archer delivered the lines well, she wasn’t the popinjay type that is usually presented for this part. For whatever reason, I didn’t hear the information about the father and his three sons clearly; perhaps there was too much emphasis on Touchstone and the girls larking around? To set up the stage for the wrestling, some attendants came on and removed sections of the central platform’s flooring to create a pit in the middle of the stage. From my angle in the third row it was hard to see, but I checked in the interval and it seemed to be filled with the same black cinder debris that was used in Hamlet; after the profligacy of some recent production designs, it’s nice to see they’re economising at last.

A table and chair were set at the back of the stage for Duke Frederick’s use. He came on less formally dressed than his court, with his white shirt hanging loose over black trousers, carrying a drink in one hand and a chicken leg in the other. He took several bites during this scene, and I felt he was being shown as a decadent ruler, keen to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. I’ve no idea why that was considered relevant, but it’s a valid enough choice. Orlando also wandered on and went to stand by the pillars at the back of the stage while the Duke explained the situation to his daughter and niece and asked them to intercede. When La Belle called Orlando over, he and Rosalind were soon drawn to each other. He was on the right of the pit, she and Celia on the left, with Celia staying mainly in the corner of the stage. As Orlando explained his rationale for taking part in the match – “if I be foiled” etc. – he moved round to the front of the pit, and Rosalind reciprocated, bringing them closer together. There was no sign of agitation from Celia during this, nor any sign that she was as keen on Orlando as Rosalind was.

Having set up a fairly standard wrestling arena, the next part was distinctly weird. For no reason I could fathom, Orlando, having taken off his top, was told to kneel in the centre of the pit and a blindfold was placed over his eyes. One of the attendants put some water on his head first, then the rest of the bucket was thrown over him, and Charles started having a go while Orlando was still blindfolded! What was that about?

Alex Waldmann as Orlando and Nicolas Tennant as Touchstone in As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

Alex Waldmann as Orlando and Nicolas Tennant as Touchstone in As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

No wonder Charles won all his matches if the odds were stacked against his opponents like that. Anyway, after taking a bit of a pounding – the fighting was more vicious than I care for, so I didn’t look at it much – Orlando finally turned the tables on Charles when the latter was celebrating his premature victory, and he ended up smashing Charles’ head against a pillar.

The Duke was seriously displeased with Orlando’s parentage and stormed off, but was back on stage briefly to witness Rosalind’s gift of her necklace to the young man. This enraged the Duke even more, and it was clear to us that this was the trigger for Rosalind’s banishment. Meanwhile, back at the wrestling pit, Orlando was struck dumb with a stupid grin plastered all over his face while Rosalind and Celia gave him their thanks. Celia was very ladylike about the whole thing, standing on the edge of the platform, whereas Rosalind, keen to show her deep appreciation of Orlando’s achievements, took off her high heels and stepped into the pit to stand next to him. That caused a reaction from Celia, and it was in the pit that Rosalind gave her necklace to Orlando. It also meant that she was shoeless when the girls left him alone there, and as they paused at the back of the stage for Rosalind to put her shoes back on, they were perfectly placed for Rosalind’s spurious “He calls us back”. Between these actions and Orlando’s total incomprehension of his muteness it was a very funny scene.

La Belle’s warning was very timely – we’d seen the danger signs ourselves – and it was clear from La Belle’s descriptions of the ladies and the Duke which side she favoured (and it wasn’t her current boss). Orlando was soon bounding off stage, but not before Rosalind came on again from the back and looked at him leaving, an overlap technique which happened several times in this production.  Rosalind’s line about her “child’s father” led to the full realisation of what this meant, and soon afterwards the Duke returned to banish Rosalind (and Celia, as it turned out). The rest of the scene was pretty standard but clear, and Celia’s choice of alias came across as a bit lame.

Off to the forest now for the first scene with Duke senior and his boys (and girls). For this part, the back left section of the stage revolved round while the wooden panels at the back folded away to leave the stage open to the brick wall. A few extra tree trunk were on view – silver birch – and although the revolve didn’t actually change the position of the pillars much, the whole stage had a more open feel. The Duke’s forest court turned out to be a 60s hippie commune, with much more colour than the main court and lots of musical instruments, songs and dancing.

I think there was another overlap between Rosalind leaving and her father arriving at this point, with a short look passing between them. The Duke’s lines were well delivered, and the first Lord did an entertaining impersonation of Jacques from which we deduced he had a strong Welsh accent. Everyone else, including the Duke, laughed heartily at the story of Jacques’ pithy comments; in general, this was a good aspect of this production, with lots of suitable reactions from the onlookers throughout.

With a quick change of lighting we were back in the court for the short scene where Duke Frederick discovered Celia’s flight. Hisperia was brought on stage and looked nervous, but no harm came to her at this time, although the Duke himself dragged her off stage for the Exeunt severally.

Adam had already done the packing when Orlando turned up at his brother’s house; he put a knapsack down behind one of the pillars before Orlando’s arrival, and after their conversation Adam handed the money box containing his life savings to Orlando and picked up the bag himself to carry. From the reaction of the audience I wasn’t the only one who felt that Orlando was getting off lightly here – why should he carry the small box and the elderly man carry the hefty bag? Definitely a black mark against the young man.

The order of the scenes may have been different at this point, so I’ll describe them as per my text. I don’t know if it was here or later, but at some point Corin appeared, he stood in the pit and drew a circle in the black stuff with his staff. Then he headed off without a word and the play continued as normal. Assuming Act 2 Scene 4 is next, Rosalind and Touchstone entered and stood looking around them. Rosalind was puffing a bit; she wore an elegant three piece man’s suit and with her short, slicked-back hair and flat chest she could pass for a young man at first glance. She’d put the bags she was carrying down for the moment; Touchstone didn’t seem to be carrying anything much. No sign of Celia.

Joanna Horton as Celia in As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

Joanna Horton as Celia in As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

Touchstone and Rosalind exchanged their lines, and as Rosalind got towards the end of her speech, she spoke a bit louder so that the “courage, good Aliena” would carry backstage. Celia appeared a few moments later, heavily laden, and clearly exhausted, wearing a scruffy combination of cast-offs from the look of her. She let the bags she was carrying drop, and then she dropped on top of them, lying flat on her back and getting a good laugh for her trouble. When Corin and Silvius arrived, the other two nipped back to where Celia was lying and hid there with her to watch the newcomers.

Corin and Silvius were pretty good – I think of Silvius as an early example of a stalker – and Michael Grady-Hall’s tortured delivery of “Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe” was just brilliant. Corin was also heading off stage while Touchstone and Rosalind were ruminating on the effects of love, until Celia asked them to speak to the shepherd about the availability of food. She’d roused herself a bit by this time, and when Corin came back the three of them were over by the right hand side of the stage, still huddling behind the pillars. Rosalind made her first foray into manhood with an attempt at a refined accent and smoking a cigarette. Touchstone had also put his bowler hat on her head; it more than covered her eyes which added to the fun.

To back up her description of Celia as “with travel much oppressed”, Rosalind looked pointedly at her after “faints for succour”, but had to repeat the line a couple of times before Touchstone grabbed Celia and helped her to collapse into his arms. Corin’s initial response of “Fair sir” caused jubilation in their ranks; Rosalind was seriously pleased to have carried off the impersonation first time out, while Celia and Touchstone low-five’d in the background.

Next up was Amiens and the band, singing a more modern version of Under The Greenwood Tree. I think this may have been when the mobile bandstand came on at the back; it was located back right and stayed there for the rest of the evening, being used by various band members as needed. Jacques prowled around the set, and I think was sitting at the front of the platform when he requested more of their music. In response to their song, Jacques did a very twitchy dance; Steve assumed he’d been at the magic mushrooms again. It caused a lot of hilarity amongst a small number of the audience over to our left; while it was amusing, we didn’t find it as funny as all that. I was also surprised that he didn’t sound particularly Welsh; after the impersonation I thought he might have a stronger accent, but at least his delivery was clear. When they sang the new verse supplied by Jacques, he ended up in the circle in the pit himself after the “invocation”.

When Orlando and Adam came on stage, I was pleased to see that Orlando was doing the heavy lifting this time – black mark expunged. I wasn’t sure Adam was going to make it tonight, but he was just able to hobble off stage with Orlando’s help. After the Duke reappeared, Jacques re-entered, and the melancholic was transformed thanks to the adrenaline rush he got from meeting Touchstone in the forest. Now he was lively and exuberant, keen to tell us all about the encounter, even changing his accent for Touchstone’s lines. The Duke wasn’t impressed with Jacques’ desire to become a fool, and in countering his accusations Jacques had plenty of options in the audience to refer to. Orlando’s arrival (front left) was abrupt and violent – he carried a dagger – but the Duke’s kind words soon softened him and he even refused to take a drink until he brought Adam into the group. Jacques’ seven ages of man speech was brisk and pretty good, and once Orlando returned with the faithful old servant, the band struck up a song while Adam was fed and Orlando spoke with the Duke. The Duke actually stopped the song to announce to all and sundry that Orlando was Sir Rowland’s son, and the commune reacted positively to the news.

Alex Waldmann as Orlando in As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

Alex Waldmann as Orlando in As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

After a short scene at the court for Duke Frederick to deal with Oliver, who arrived with a bag over his head, Orlando returned to compose a song in praise of his love. He was carrying an accordion, and played a few notes here and there, humming his way through the bits that were OK and writing down a few last words to complete the song. Keen to play it through, he found he couldn’t hold the song in one hand and play the accordion with the other, nor could he hold the paper in his teeth, play and sing, so he stuck the paper to one of the pillars – “Hang there, my verse”. He then got a bit carried away and started sticking more verses to other pillars, eventually running off in great excitement to adorn the forest with them. As he left the stage, a character entered at the back, later revealed to be Corin dressed in a stag outfit with antlers. He simply stood there for a bit and the lights went out – interval. I’ve no idea what that was about, but the standard of the performance had been so high I wasn’t too bothered.

During the interval, the rest of the square platform was removed, leaving just the circle of the revolve at the back. The black crumbles were then spread out to form an irregular carpet wider than the original platform; Orlando could have learned a lot about the efficient use of a broom from these stage hands. Some furniture was added to the revolve, including a red car seat – reminded me of Top Gear – and an old-fashioned fridge well stocked with cans of beer. Lights were strung from the front left pillar to the back of the stage, and although there may have been one or two other changes, I didn’t spot them.

For the restart, Corin and Touchstone came on and sat on the revolve. For quite some time, neither spoke. Corin seemed to be quite happy just to sit and ponder; that’s assuming he was actually pondering, of course. Touchstone, on the other hand, was distinctly bored and did his best to make Corin jump by thrashing the floor from time to time with the rod he was carrying: no reaction. After a few goes at this, Corin did move; he’d seen some interesting animal or bird, and like Chris Packham on sedatives, he slowly grabbed Touchstone’s arm and pointed. Touchstone peered in the indicated direction, even screwing his face up to see if that would help, but no luck – whatever interesting creature Corin had seen was invisible to him.

This business caused a lot of mirth on our left, and it was good fun for us as well. Shortly after this, Corin posed his question to Touchstone and the real scene was underway. It passed without incident, and I noticed that much of the dialogue about Corin’s shallow reasoning had been cut. This was a general choice for Touchstone; many of his lines had been cut, including the quarrel speech later on, and comic business inserted to make up for it. It can take some time to get this sort of thing working well, so I don’t criticise the actor; it’s the sort of part often given to a comedian these days. This evening’s efforts were OK, and it’s one area where I would hope for improvement in future performances.

Rosalind came on reading the rhyming couplets in her praise which Touchstone readily parodied. When Celia arrived, she sang her verses as a song, accompanied by the band at the back, and there was a little chorus so we could all join in. With the others sent away, Rosalind took some time to register who the writer of the verses was from Celia’s descriptions, and I liked that it took her so long. She dropped her trousers at the usual point, and we could see that she had taken the precaution of using additional padding in her Y-fronts. The barrage of questions for which Celia would have to “borrow … Gargantua’s mouth” was very well delivered; they often come out in a stream with very little thought in between, but this time they were separate questions, each occurring to Rosalind after the previous one had been uttered, and all perfectly clear.

Orlando and his accordion turned up with Jacques in tow, and they were distinctly impolite to each other until Jacques took his leave. Rosalind’s first line to Orlando was a bit loud, hence his reply, and then they were into a lovely set piece. There was a moment of Orlando looking at Ganymede strangely, recognising something about the youth, but it was clear he was convinced that she was a boy, even hitting her harder on the shoulder than she would have liked at one point. I didn’t spot any reactions from Celia, who was over to the right of the stage during this bit. Rosalind was a bit on edge at first, but she soon settled down to her chosen role of Orlando’s bro. He was keen to prove his love, which is why he took on her challenge, and so they left together.

For a goatherd, Audrey looked more like a female plumber whose chosen work clothes were hot pants and furry boots. She had a tool belt slung round her waist from which she drew a knife at one point. As Touchstone went through his speech prior to the arrival of Sir Oliver Martext, he went into another improv session, talking with the audience about cuckoldry, and picking someone – Damian – in the row behind us to chat to about female fidelity and marriage. He wasn’t off text for long, and this is one area that will probably change a lot through the run. Meanwhile Audrey, excited at the prospect of marriage to Touchstone (poor, deluded girl) had rushed around getting her wedding outfit together – some green netting for a veil and assorted flowers to make a bouquet.

Dave Fishley as Sir Oliver Martext in As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

Dave Fishley as Sir Oliver Martext in As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

When Sir Oliver turned up, staggering slowly onto stage as befitted a man who had clearly been chilling out for several years with copious amounts of ganja, the weird couple were ready to take the plunge, and only Jacques prevented them from going through with it. Sir Oliver, constantly laughing at something or other, took his rejection extremely well, and chortled his way back off stage just as slowly as he’d meandered onto it.

With Orlando late for his appointment, Rosalind was very upset and Celia wasn’t helping matters by confirming her cousin’s worst suspicions. They were soon distracted by the offer of rustic entertainment, i.e. Silvius’ wooing of Phoebe. For this production, Phoebe was certainly “not for all markets”, being less attractive than usual with her hair in a mess, gaps in her teeth and wearing dungarees and welly boots. Other than this, there was nothing much to report in this scene.

Rosalind soon saw off Jacques, and was extremely cross with Orlando when he finally turned up. He seemed to have taken Ganymede’s earlier chiding about his neat appearance to heart, and now had rumpled clothes, straw in his hair and various other “signs of love” about him. For the wooing section, Celia sat on the revolve and had little to do in terms of her reactions, apart from her brief stint as priest during the marriage ceremony. After a brief kiss, Orlando was very keen to consummate this pretend marriage, and soon had Rosalind on her back with himself on top. She was concerned he would discover the truth and pushed him off, by which time he realised that his enthusiasm was misplaced and withdrew to the middle of the stage, embarrassed by his actions and his erection. It was clear that he hadn’t a clue who Ganymede was.

The stag hunting scene was converted into a hippie dance, and afterwards Rosalind did her best to sort out Silvius’ love life. Oliver arrived, decked out in a yellow cagoule and carrying a map pouch; his description of events was pretty good, and Celia was definitely smitten, as was he with her. Rosalind fainted, as usual, but there was no opportunity tonight for Oliver to discover the truth about her.

Audrey and Touchstone returned for a brief spat with William, and it was clear that Audrey was still determined to marry Touchstone; William was no longer on her contacts list. Oliver’s short conversation with Orlando was enough to show that their relationship had completely changed, and then we were into the endgame, with the quartet of Rosalind, Orlando, Phoebe and Silvius setting up two of the marriages to come.

The song with Audrey and Touchstone was dropped, as I recall, and we were straight into the final scene. When Audrey came on with Touchstone she had added a chunky tutu and a red nose to her costume, and the quarrel dialogue was completely cut, along with the instruction to Audrey to bear her body more seemly. The biggest surprise was that we got to see Hymen for once; this was Corin wearing the stag outfit we’d seen earlier. It’s unusual to play this last scene with Hymen included these days; I’m much more accustomed to Rosalind stage-managing the final scenes, so it felt odd to have Hymen deliver ‘her’ familiar lines.

As soon as Rosalind and Celia came through the pillars, Orlando, who had been looking elsewhere at first, caught sight of the woman he loved and walked a few steps towards her. Both he and Oliver fell to their knees as Hymen gave his speech, but soon the lovers were in each other’s arms and the kissing could proceed in earnest, only interrupted by the arrival of Jacques de Bois with his preposterous news. His older brothers greeted him warmly, as did his new sisters-in-law, while Jacques the melancholic did his best to spoil everyone’s fun by being himself. Once he was gone, the dancing could begin, and this was a very lively romp. We were delighted to see that Adam not only survived the winter in the forest, he was at the wedding as well, and was greeted warmly by Orlando and his brother – this was a first for us! At some point Orlando gave Rosalind back her necklace, which I liked, and this time we got the epilogue from Rosalind, which Pippa Dixon did very well. It was a good, upbeat ending, and we left feeling happy with our evening’s entertainment.

As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

As You Like It. Photo by Keith Pattison

The Empress – April 2013

Experience: 8/10

By Tanika Gupta

Directed by Emma Rice

Company: RSC

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Monday 15th April 2013

Both Steve and I had the sniffles tonight, him because he had a cold and me because the final scenes of this new play were very moving. The play covers a lot of ground, and there will be more to come with this production which at times is a bit jumbled, but the music, singing, dancing and colours plus the splendid performances made for a refreshing take on a neglected aspect of Victorian history. We’ve found Emma Rice’s work with Kneehigh to be variable in the past, but this time she’s produced a real good ‘un.

The set was a major contributor to the evening’s entertainment, so I’d better describe that first. We could see echoes of several recent productions in the initial layout, and wondered if Lez Brotherston had simply toured the RSC workshops looking for cast-offs. The floor of the stage had been raised to allow for water, as with the Shipwreck Trilogy, but I can confirm right now that no audience members were splashed in the course of the performance; at least, none that I could see. The decking of the stage floor was cut away in a ragged shape, leaving water exposed at the front and both sides, with angled ramps leading across the water from the walkways. This did reduce the performance area a bit, but it didn’t seem to slow things down or cause the production to be too static, which was quite an achievement.

At the beginning there were trunks and suitcases piled towards the back of the stage, which reminded Steve of a previous Hamlet, while the waves lapping on the screen at the back could have been outtakes from the recent Winter’s Tale footage. The screen was suspended just in front of the balcony area, and there were strips of screen on either side which were removed later to reveal narrow flats showing London buildings. And if we didn’t already get the nautical theme, there were ropes strung from corner to corner and out into the auditorium. When the central screen was raised, it curved out like a sail at the balcony level and usually showed a black and white Union Jack on which the date was occasionally displayed. Behind it there were wide stairs just off centre leading up to the balcony from the back wall – probably had to be wide to accommodate those massive bustles the women were wearing – and not much else. A curtain or two could be drawn across to suggest different locations, and even with furniture and the usual props being brought on and taken off, the pace of the show never flagged.

Most of the musicians were located behind the second level side balconies and were rather obscured by the railings, which was a shame. The middle side balconies had been opened up and each had been given its own small thrust – no rail to get in the way, so mind the drop! Singers stood there, characters stood or sat there from time to time, and they were very much part of the performance space.

Facing all this, a platform had been placed in front of the middle level of the seating, and the reason for the doors only being opened about fifteen minutes before the start became clear.

Sheema Mukherjee playing the Sitar in The Empress. Photo by Steve Tanner

Sheema Mukherjee playing the Sitar in The Empress. Photo by Steve Tanner

Sheema Mukherjee – sitar, clarinet and vocals according to the free cast list – sat there for the entire performance, playing absolutely wonderful music as required. The platform had been decked out in true Indian style, with swags of orange garlands and the like, and looked magnificent. It would be interesting to see this again from a side angle, when the platform would be more in view. We were next to the right hand walkway tonight, and it meant turning completely away from the stage to see what she was doing.

The music was another great element in this production. There were two designated singers, although everyone in the cast joined in from time to time. The main two were Dom Coyote and Japjit Kaur, and not only did they have lovely voices, the songs they sang blended English words and Indian rhythms perfectly. I didn’t catch all the words, and the singing blocked out some of the dialogue in the early scenes, but the overall effect was tremendous.

The costumes were an eclectic mix, with only Queen Victoria and her court being fully (and splendidly) dressed throughout the play. Many of the other characters wore part European, part Indian clothes, and there were modern touches here and there. The women often wore the bustle without the skirt, which made for quicker changes, but did look a bit peculiar as well. The idea behind this was to avoid too much realism in the look of the production, something I’m more than happy to go along with. The children were nothing but their costumes; with their clothes held by other actors they were puppetry without the puppets, and it worked very well.

Back with the actual play, there are four Indian characters whose stories we followed; two were real people, the other two were representatives of their group. Dadabhai Naoroji, played by Vincent Ebrahim, was an older man, a Parsi who came to England because he believed in British fair play. He hoped to influence British attitudes to India through the political system, becoming the first elected British MP from the Indian subcontinent. He found the British establishment reluctant to give much time to the issues affecting India when there were more pressing matters closer to home – Irish Home Rule was the big talking point in those days. He finally returned to India, disillusioned but determined to work through the Indian National Congress to strengthen the political structure in his homeland.

The second real character was Abdul Karim (Tony Jayawardena), who had been sent as a present to Queen Victoria (Beatie Edney) so that she might know something of the country over which she was Empress. She took to Abdul so much that she appointed him her teacher and gave him the title of Munshi, which upset the Royal household enormously.

Kristin Hutchinson as Lady Sarah and Beatie Edney as Queen Victoria in The Empress. Photo by Steve Tanner

Kristin Hutchinson as Lady Sarah and Beatie Edney as Queen Victoria in The Empress. Photo by Steve Tanner

They were represented by one character, Lady Sarah (Kristin Hutchinson), who bridled at every minor breach of royal protocol, and was practically apoplectic at Abdul’s promotion to Munshi. Fortunately Victoria was able to handle this sort of thing until her final years, even enjoying the information that she was being gossiped about, at her age! Abdul outlived Victoria, and since his role as Munshi was not required by the new King, he also returned to India.

The fictional characters showed us life at the other end of the social spectrum. Rani (Anneika Rose) was a 16-year-old girl travelling as an ayah with an English family returning from India. She looked after their two children and had been promised a job when they arrived in England, but as soon as they landed the mother dismissed her, giving her references and some money. Rani couldn’t go back to India; not only did she not have enough money to pay her fare, but her family were depending on her to send back some of her earnings to help them. A sailor whom she had met on the boat and developed a relationship with, Hari (Ray Panthaki), helped her out for the first night by taking her to a very rough and ready doss house run by Lascar Sally (Tamzin Griffin), a white woman who enjoyed having sex with many of the dark-skinned lascars who stayed with her. Rani managed to get over her fear of the rats, but Hari’s assumption that they would also be having sex was too much for her and she ran off into the night.

Rani’s journey showed us the ruthless way that young girls from India were treated in England at that time. Taken on by another family to look after their children, she found the husband was only too ready to take advantage of her situation, seducing her with compliments and the hint of a promise that she would get money to send back to her family – nowadays we call it ‘grooming’ – and soon she was pregnant. That led to her dismissal – it was made clear that the previous ayahs had suffered the same fate – and she was desperate enough to attempt to abandon her baby at the docks possibly intending to kill herself. Fortunately she was spotted by Lascar Sally and another former ayah, Firoza (Rina Fatania). They helped Rani to accept her situation, and things began to improve. She and Firoza ended up in a home for ayahs, which Dadabhai Naoroji had helped to found, and eventually Rani went to work for him.

Meanwhile Hari had gone back to sea, but he always wrote to Rani – she had taught him to read and write – and planned to return and marry her someday.

Ray Panthaki as Hari and Anneika Rose as Rani in The Empress. Photo by Steve Tanner

Ray Panthaki as Hari and Anneika Rose as Rani in The Empress. Photo by Steve Tanner

An attempt to improve conditions for the Lascars, who were treated much worse than the white sailors, ended in failure and eventually Hari arrived back in London and took up furniture-making instead. After some time, he plucked up the courage to visit Dadabhai Naoroji and speak to Rani, and their reunion was very touching (sniff). The play finished with Rani and Hari left alone on Tilbury Docks, ready to make their future lives in England.

In addition to these characters, we saw a lot of Queen Victoria, appropriately enough, as well as glimpses of another well-known real person, Ghandi (Ankur Bahl). He was in his dandy phase during these years, travelling to England to learn French and ballroom dancing – we saw an example of that during the play. The stories often cut across one another, but apart from the early scenes being a little confusing, the story telling was very clear and there were a lot of nice touches. When Rani was looking for another job, she was advised to approach any white woman to ask for work. Despite the number of actors in the cast, there were problems having different actors play the several women whom Rani approached, so one actress, Emily Mytton, did them all, with only a brief pause to have a bit of her costume changed, all in sight of the audience. It worked very well, conveying the sense of repeated rejections nicely.

The cast of The Empress. Photo by Steve Tanner

The cast of The Empress. Photo by Steve Tanner

Towards the end, with Victoria very ill in a wheelchair, the Munshi orchestrated a lovely surprise for her – a display of Indian song and dance, performed by the rest of the company. It was his way of showing her the sights and sounds of India without her having to travel. An elephant was projected onto the screen at the back as well, and the whole effect was pretty amazing.

This was followed by Victoria’s death, with her body being laid out on a table centre stage. The changing attitude to the Munshi was clear – he was stripped of his robes and any letters he had received from the queen. As this went on, the papers taken from him were turned into little boats and floated on the water, then lit to create a beautiful effect with lots of floating candles. They’d all burned out by the end of the performance, but it was a lovely sight to see.

In some ways I’d have liked the play to end with the lively Indian song and dance; it would certainly have been a strong finish. But we needed to know what happened to the characters, so the final scenes were important too. With all the fuss over immigration that goes on today, it’s a salutary lesson to be reminded that it’s not a new phenomenon, and that people from all over the globe have been enriching our society for centuries. This was a very enjoyable performance, and I hope this play gets wider exposure; a short run in the Swan just isn’t enough.

Smack Family Robinson – April 2013

Experience: 7/10

By Richard Bean

Directed by Richard Wilson

Venue: Rose Theatre, Kingston

Date: Thursday 11th April 2013

Richard Bean rewrote this play specifically for this venue, relocating the drug-retailing family to Petersham and including lots of local references which some of the audience found particularly amusing; presumably we weren’t the only non-residents attending the performance who didn’t understand all these jokes, although we got the gist most of the time. Aside from the local stuff, there were a lot of very funny lines, though not enough to make this more than a patchy comedy at best, but as the funny stuff was well worth the trip we’re not complaining.

The set showed the living room of the Robinson’s family house. It was nouveau flash, with white leather sofas on three sides, white shag pile rug in the centre with a large glass coffee table on it and a catering size box of Vouvray behind a sliding door in the drinks cabinet on the back wall. Doors on either side led to the kitchen (right) and the hall (left). Centre front was the base of the new large screen HD TV, which they watched occasionally. Amongst the items on the coffee table was a small bulldog ornament which turned out to hold a lighter and presumably cigarettes as well.

With dad Gavin semi-retired, the business had been largely handed over to his son Sean, with the older but less intellectually gifted son Robert providing the muscle. Their mother Catherine still laundered the takings through her florist shop, while the daughter Cora was studying catering and about to take her final exam. With the prospect of a genuine job on the horizon, it looked as if she would be demerging from the family business and going legit in the near future. However the management restructuring of Robinson Ltd. was not yet complete, and the death of one of the senior board members led to a not too surprising conclusion.

Sean had the gangsta talk and attitude, and his discourse on why the moon landing was a waste of time was another funny section. His approach to reducing the business’s debt loading was to sell the debts to the Russian mob, and the consequences led to unwelcome attention from the police. In addition, Robert’s wife Pammy had just died, and it seemed that someone had given her a dose of pure heroin. The finger of suspicion pointed to the family members, but which one? The revelation of the guilty party led to their death, and the family business reorganisation meant that Sean had to be persuaded to expand his business horizons to Ibiza.

The performances were all fine, and I’d put the patchiness down to the writing. Given the popularity of Shameless, the characters seemed less convincing and the story a bit outdated, even though the original was only produced in 2003. But the comedy saved the day, with several hugely funny lines and lots of major chuckles spread throughout the afternoon. The best laugh came at the start of the second half; Sean was settling down to watch some porn on the TV and make himself a shot of heroin – what a tedious process. When his parents came back in Sean had just injected himself, and their shocked reaction was great fun, especially as they weren’t remotely concerned about the drugs or the porn, just the carpet - “Shoes!”