Category Archives: 8/10

The Father – September 2006

Experience: 8/10

By August Strindberg, adapted by Mike Poulton

Directed by Angus Jackson

Venue: Minerva Theatre

Date: Wednesday 27th September 2006

          We were due to see this play on Monday, followed by a post-show talk, but there was a cancellation due to a medical emergency, so we came tonight. I haven’t seen this play before, in any version, so had no expectations, other than being aware Strindberg is considered a bit grim and possibly misogynistic. I was pleasantly surprised for the most part.

         This production ranges from rampant comedy at the start to gut-wrenching psychological drama at the end – quite a range. I wasn’t surprised that Jasper Britton could handle it; I was only surprised that it took me a whole five minutes to recognise him – that man is a chameleon. The comedy at the start related to an unfortunate soldier who has been caught having it away with the kitchen maid, and is expected to take responsibility for the child she is carrying. His response is to question the paternity, as the woman has had sex with many men, not just him. This episode sets up one of the main issues of the play – that a man cannot know who has fathered his wife’s children (not so much of an issue now with DNA testing, but still relevant in terms of potential infidelity).

         Adolf, the father of the title (Jasper Britton) complains of the women in his life controlling him. He wants to get his daughter out of the house and into town where she can develop her own perspective on life. His wife, Laura (Theresa Banham), wants to keep the girl with her. The battle of wills between them is the nub of the play. The wife is described, by her own brother no less, as someone who has to get her own way, and who will stop at nothing to achieve that. We see as the play develops just how ruthless she can be. She has prevented her husband from working on his one real pleasure, his mineralogical studies, by not posting his letters to bookshops, colleagues, etc. and instead writing to these people herself, telling them her husband is going mad. And in the frustration and incomprehension she creates in him, he is slowly going mad. This woman is an early sociopath.

         Having said that, this adaptation is very skilful at leaving the audience undecided for a long time about many things. Both characters have their dark side – she is undoubtedly highly manipulative and demanding, he has a desire for control that nowadays we see as unhealthy, but what is really going on between them? At times, I wondered if he was going mad, and the wife was genuinely concerned for his sanity. At others, it was plain that she was a monster, and in other moments, it seemed possible he had driven her to behave this way. By the end, it’s clear that their relationship, lasting seventeen years, has honed their viciousness towards each other. Both entered the relationship not understanding their partner, and those misunderstandings led to their downfall. A sad story, with a very sad ending. As the wife manipulates her way to apparent victory, the father is reduced to a sedated, mumbling wreck of a man, trussed up in a straitjacket. His final act of defiance is to die, presumably leaving his widow with little money (a small pension, according to the text), when what she was after was a decent living, and full control.

         (Six days, and three other productions later) There’s some interesting dialogue about religions and atheism in the play. The father is beset by women, yes, but he’s also beset by their many different religious points of view. He’s an atheist, so in one sense he’s out of the loop – most people in that community would presumably have had some religious affiliation. His daughter is being scared out of her wits by her grandmother on her mother’s side telling her about demons, etc. (so we get some idea of what drove her mother to villainy), while the father’s old nurse has great faith in prayer and handing everything over to the Lord. Just the clash of all these religious ideas is enough to make them look ridiculous.

         The wife’s deceit is almost a living thing in the play. She’s so deceitful and manipulative, it would be impossible to live with her. She cannot be trusted, and yet her husband has trusted her, to his own undoing. She is also readily believed by the new doctor, whose help she needs to get her husband declared insane, although he does sound a note of caution now and then.

         So is Strindberg a woman-hater, or just balancing out Ibsen’s view of women as purely good and redemptive?  At one point, Ibsen’s play Ghosts is mentioned. “Rubbish”, says the father, with feeling, and describes Ibsen as “that female apologist”. Women certainly can be as manipulative and destructive as men, and Strindberg happily shows this, but I’m not sure the men get off lightly either. I would need to see more of his work before deciding on this one, not that it will change my mind about this play – thoroughly enjoyable.

         All the performances were excellent. Jasper Britton was especially good, descending into madness via rage and frustration. The set was simple, just a desk and some chairs. One item that got me going was the straitjacket. As soon as it arrived, it was like having a deadly snake on the stage – I couldn’t put it out of my mind. My own fears of being rendered powerless came to the fore, and so I lost a little of the performances. I so much wanted the father to win his battle, and for reason to prevail, but sadly, drama doesn’t always work out as well as real life. Maybe that’s why people find Strindberg gloomy. Ah well.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Romeo and Juliet – September 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Nancy Meckler

Venue: RST

Date: Thursday 14th September 2006

I’ve enjoyed Shared Experience’s work in the past in smaller venues, so I was looking forward to seeing what Nancy Meckler had done in the main house at Stratford. I wasn’t disappointed.

We had been warned that there was a framing device, a play outside the play, where a community was re-enacting the tragic deaths of Romeo and Juliet. The set emphasised this. At the back was a huge picture frame. A couple of trees at the sides gave the impression of an open-air venue, and there was a square platform for the action. This moved back during the vault scene to allow access to Juliet’s body. Overhead, a lighting rig ran diagonally across this smaller stage. Seats were provided at the sides for the ‘actors’ to rest on between scenes. There was even a little girl running around – obviously a family affair.

And given the Italian setting, it was a ‘family’ affair in more ways than one. Before the start, the ‘actors’ were getting ready, setting up the stage, getting into costumes, etc. The men were trying out the taps on their shoes, and some quarrel broke out. There was a bit of a scuffle, then the older and wiser men broke it up, but you could see there was still a lot of tension. Incidentally, the main agitator turned out to be the man playing Tybalt – so cast to type, then. I liked the way this suggested that the conflict the re-enactment was supposed to ease still lingered. People obviously hadn’t learned their lesson.

As tempers rose, the oldsters decided it was time for the men to hand in their weapons – a lovely piece of staging. It started off with knives being handed over (placed in a large blanket), then hand guns, then rifles. I was hoping they’d got the RSC to spring for a few Kalashnikovs, but apparently not. Anyway, once the armoury was put to one side, the ‘play’ could begin. (Later on, the ‘actor’ playing Tybalt was still angry enough to try and retrieve his weapon, but was stopped.)

One of the things I loved most about this production was the use of tap dancing to represent fighting. The men each had a staff they could bang on the ground, which with the sound of the taps got the action across beautifully. And the framing device allowed for it perfectly too – these people are not meant to be doing it for real. The choreography of the fights changed depending on who was fighting. Great stuff.

All the performances were good. I particularly liked Romeo, Juliet and the Friar. Romeo came across as a bit wimpish, still immature at times, yelping and squealing and whimpering like a child. But at other times he showed what a man he might have made. Juliet was still a child at the start, but with quick wits, and a temper! The relationship with the nurse was cosy and domestic at the start, but she actually hits her when she doesn’t get the news she wants quick enough. She matures even quicker than Romeo, and has to learn to handle her own emotions entirely from her own resources, as even the nurse can no longer help her. I found this a very moving performance. The Friar was a good counterpoint to last night’s Duke in Measure for Measure – this monk lays his plans, and then they all go horribly wrong – no rabbits get pulled out of his hat! When he’s telling his story at the end, he was more nervous than I’ve ever seen before in this part – and rightly so, considering what he’s been up to without the Duke’s knowledge.

I liked the use of a pillar of ladders for the balcony scene. It allowed for more movement in what can sometimes be a fairly static scene, and the lighting effects, with lights shining up from below, were lovely. It also meant an easier time for Romeo, as he didn’t have any precarious climbing to do. The apothecary appears from below (trapdoor), which worked well. There was a Shared Experience moment at the end, when all the stories are being told. The acting audience listens, and moves as one, slowly and steadily to observe each part of the tale. A nice touch, especially as we, the real audience, already know what’s happened, and can otherwise get a bit bored.

One thing that didn’t work for me was the use of the characters’ jackets to remind us of who’d been killed. When Mercutio and Tybalt die, their jackets are taken off and hung from the lighting rig. This was OK, but then when Paris is killed in the vault, the removal of his jacket was a bit clumsy and obvious, and there was no time to get it hung up. If I had to opt for one way or the other, I’d leave it out.

At the end, all the ‘actors’ shake hands and hug, indicating that perhaps the re-enactment has done its job and helped to bring the community together. But I couldn’t help noticing that Tybalt and some other of the younger men weren’t there – perhaps not a complete success, then. Unlike this production, which was.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Comedy Of Errors – YPS – September 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Elizabeth Freestone

Company: Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Wednesday 13th September 2006

This was a very good production, with excellent staging and a well-edited text. The performance began with all the cast coming on stage in two files, with the Duke and a blindfolded Egeon at the back. The rest of the cast formed up in two rows at the front of the stage, and all were carrying rifles. They turned, raised the rifles, and knelt down, preparing to fire. The Duke, at the last minute, asks Egeon for his story (removing the blindfold as he does so), and as he tells it, the firing squad get so caught up that they gradually lower their rifles, and just listen. Egeon’s tale, though edited, still covers the salient points, and but for the rampant coughing from the audience, would have been very moving. Incidentally, to make ends meet on this long quest, Egeon has apparently taken painting and decorating jobs – his sleeves and the bottoms of his trousers were covered in white paint.

I really enjoyed this opening sequence. The firing squad gave it immediacy, a real sense of danger. The Duke, while chatting to Egeon, is perilously close to getting shot himself – just one twitchy trigger finger… This staging emphasises the Duke’s clemency, giving Egeon till sunset to find some way of paying the fine.

As the various characters leave, one soldier remains, and becomes Antipholus of Syracuse (A/S). Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he sends Dromio off to the Centaur, and both he and Dromio share any relevant lines of the missing merchant.

A/S’s opening soliloquy, “He that commands me to mine own content…”, was very well done. The gestures used were moving, and repeated at the end to close the piece (although this could probably have been dropped, as the audience were ready to applaud as soon as the Dromios left the stage). I got a sense of someone who’d been searching so long and so desperately that he no longer expected to find what he was seeking – which explains why neither he nor his Dromio twig what’s going on.

Dromio of Syracuse (D/S) then returns, and the real comic business begins. Good comic timing from both sets of twins made this very enjoyable. When Adriana first arrives and addresses A/S as her husband, his look of amazement was a joy to behold. D/S just pats him on the shoulder as if to say ‘you’re on your own, mate’, and sits out most of the discussion. Adriana is, as usual, pretty intimate with the man she believes to be her husband. On the line “Am I in earth, in heaven or in hell” A/S indicates Dromio, Luciana and Adriana in turn.

The set: it’s still the Much Ado set, but without the rubble all over the floor. White cloth at the back, various pallets arranged round the stage, higher at the back. Back left, on an angle, sat a chest (holds the money Adriana gives D/S to redeem her husband), and one pallet came half-way across the front, and doubled as a door for both Antipholus’s house and the abbey. Part of the pallet hinged up, and was held in place by a rope. The costumes were all various shades of blue, with a tie-dye/ washed out effect. Both Dromios had bright blue hair, and the women wore underskirt hoops on the top of normal skirts – why?

The advantage of having two sets of twins (instead of doubling) is that the scenes they’re both in are easier to do. When Antipholus of Ephesus (A/E) arrives home for lunch, it becomes very clear he’s got a temper, and a pretty violent one at that. With the pallet-door, there are lots of gaps, through which guns, bars, etc. are thrust, giving D/S plenty of opportunity for ducking and diving.

The wooing scene after lunch was well-edited, and we got D/S’s descriptions of his (un)intended in full, but at a fair lick. D/S arrived for this scene at full tilt, with his trousers round his knees – evidently the kitchen wench doesn’t mean to wait till the wedding night for a piece of her betrothed! Next there’s a lovely piece of action with the goldsmith and the chain. When A/S, on receiving the chain, urges the goldsmith to take his money now, in case he never gets it, the goldsmith takes out his pocket book, thumbs to the right page, and starts to work out how much he’s owed. This takes a short while. In the meantime, A/S has said his lines and leaves to find D/S. The merchant, just missing him as he leaves, turns and sees A/E walking towards him from a different direction. Without batting an eye (they must be used to this sort of stuff in Ephesus), the goldsmith immediately tells A/E how much the chain costs, and then the confusion tumbles on through the arrival of a merchant (Balthazar) and the officer, so that A/E is bound and carted off before he knows what’s happening. Sending D/E off to get a rope’s end has been squeezed in here – normally it’s at the beginning of A/E’s entrance – but overall it’s a lovely piece of editing and staging.

D/S comes back to tell him there’s a ship about to leave, and stands bemused by what’s going on – not the scene he expected. He takes his time before heading back to Adriana, reluctant to see his fiancée again. After D/S gets the money, we see A/S even more bewildered – people are greeting him, giving him things, measuring him up for a suit, and still he doesn’t twig. He and D/S become even more panic-stricken when the courtesan arrives, and demands the chain she’s been promised. Off they flee, so that A/E can come on again to be suitably angry with D/E, who’s returned with the rope. Lots of physical stuff now, as the officer has to forcibly restrain A/E from attacking D/E. They really did throw themselves around, this lot.

More good editing – no Pinch to contend with. Luciana speaks any of his lines that are needed, and has some great business in the process. As A/E is seriously agitated by this time, the officer has him at gunpoint. As Luciana goes towards him, he makes to lunge at her, and she steps back, shoves the officer out of the way, and grabs his gun. After brandishing it rather wildly (everybody ducks as she swings it round), they get A/E and D/E tied up, and march them off to Adriana’s. The officer’s line “He is my prisoner…” was delivered very well, showing the officer’s nervousness.

From here, it’s pretty straightforward to the end, and all the reunions. At the very end, after the Dromios have left the stage, A/S re-enters, and stands, repeating the gesture with his hands that marked one drop of water seeking another in the ocean. Nicely done, but as I said before, this could probably be dropped.

The trouble with trying to describe such a lively and inventive production is that the description always falls far short. Much of the humour was in the business and in the reading of the lines. I would happily see this one again.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Troilus And Cressida – September 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Peter Stein

Company: Edinburgh InternationalFestival in association with the RSC

Venue: RST

Date: Saturday 9th September 2006

This was the clearest production of this play I have ever seen, which is partly why I enjoyed it so much. I could tell who all the characters were, the pace of the dialogue was slowed to match the pace of the scene changes, so I could hear almost every word, and the performances themselves were excellent.

Some scene changes were a bit too slow, especially the final change, moving the big wall forward and then tilting it to create a massive ramp on which all the fighting could take place. Having said that, I liked all the set designs, and enjoyed the use of the wall, so I’ll excuse the time it took to move it. The only thing that didn’t work for me – nearly made me laugh out loud – was the two tents (half tents, as it turned out), floating across the stage to join together as Cressida’s new home – a sort of camping ballet. It didn’t help that we could clearly see the scene changers working really hard to keep them on course. If they could have tightened up on this, and speeded up the mechanical bits, the whole play would have been quicker. But as I said, the tempo of the play was set by these changes, and it was good that there were no awkward changes of pace – just a good steady walk rather than a canter.

The only down side was that some of the staging didn’t use the RST stage very well. For most of the first half, the action took place not on the thrust, not even in front of the arch, but in the middle or rear of the stage. In an auditorium like this, that’s normally dramatic suicide, but this production just managed to get away with it. Several of the actors had done seasons here before, and obviously knew the problems, as they were noticeably better at projecting than the others. Even so, the change in volume and energy was evident on those few occasions when actors came further forward and inhabited the foreground of the stage. As Achilles’ and Ajax’s tents were on either side of the thrust, the Greeks tended to be further forward anyway, and for most of the second half the position was reversed, with most of the action taking place near the front.

Despite this, I enjoyed the production enormously. I could make out so much more, and in seeing the characters and their relationships more clearly, I found a lot of new ideas and awarenesses buzzing through my brain – just what I like when watching Shakespeare.

This production makes it abundantly clear that the play is about “war and lechery”. The men’s costumes were obligingly skimpy, which was no hardship, and for once Troilus didn’t spring from the lovers’ bed partially dressed (yum). Helen and Paris had a longer romp in their suspended bed than was strictly necessary to set the scene, and Pandarus’ arrival didn’t slow them down all that much. When Troilus and Cressida finally get together, without having exchanged a word beforehand, Pandarus is urging them to get to the sex straightaway – no conversation, no getting to know each other, just snogging and fucking. As an early attempt at a dating agency, Pandarus sucks. He obviously took this approach to his own relationships as well, because by the end of the play he’s riddled with all the diseases that sex can provide.

Anyway, the young lovers’ relationship doesn’t last because Cressida is swapped for Antenor. This is an obstacle few lovers would overcome. Romeo and Juliet had it easy by comparison (and I saw a lot of Romeo and Juliet in this romance, too, especially in Cressida’s concern about expressing her love too soon and too openly, just as Juliet regrets that Romeo has overheard her declaration of love). I noticed that Troilus, even though he’s not happy to lose her to the Greeks, doesn’t kick up much of a fuss with his father about the exchange. This is the boy who was effectively pleading Paris’ case earlier, when Priam was consulting his sons over what to do with Helen. Then, he was all for keeping Helen, for honour’s sake. I ask myself, if he really loved Cressida, wouldn’t he have put up more of a fight? Re-reading his arguments to Priam, many of the lines could be applied equally well to his relationship with Cressida – “O theft most base, that we have stolen what we do fear to keep!” If he prizes Antenor more highly than Cressida, so much for staying faithful.

Cressida was excellently performed. It’s a difficult part, as it’s not clear why she appears to transfer her affections to Diomedes. Is she just being pragmatic? Has she actually realised that there are other men in the world? Is she just in despair and turning to whoever shows her kindness or seems to want her? As I saw it, this production has the courage to show her as a woman who doesn’t stay faithful to one man. It happens. Get over it. There’s so much emphasis on romantic love in Shakespeare (and his contemporaries) (and earlier writers) (and later writers, come to that) that it’s a relief that one of them has finally come out of the closet and just shown what can happen between men and women.

Troilus reminded me so much of Romeo, going off in a tantrum because he can’t have the Cressida of his imaginings – true, faithful, pure, chaste. It’s debatable whether he actually stays faithful or not. He’s certainly out of love with her in this production – in the closing scene, Pandarus brings Cressida on stage to offer her to Troilus and he rejects her. She stumbles off, Troilus is killed immediately afterwards, leaving Pandarus to speak the closing lines. The introduction of Cressida at this point is an invention, not found in any edition I looked at, but it does make a good point.

I saw the connections between Thersites and Pandarus too. Pandarus is Thersites in the making (if he lives long enough). Both were well played. I’ve never seen a ‘cuddly’ Thersites, but even so, this one was more repellent than most. His commentaries on the action were apt and intelligible for once, even if they were a bit repetitive. Pandarus was wonderfully lecherous and voyeuristic – getting (almost) as much pleasure from his niece’s sexual initiation as if he’d done it himself, a strange counterpoint to the nurse in Romeo and Juliet. In fact, it occurred to me that Troilus and Cressida is Romeo and Juliet’s negative image – they start together with family support, then end up on opposite sides of a warring divide.

A few more points. The helmets the Trojans wore muffled their speech a bit. Menelaus was nicely bumbling – the mandatory cuckold. I really liked the procession of men with Pandarus identifying them for Cressida (and us). I liked the way they posed – Hector very manly – and the way Pandarus mistakes Troilus, who’s dragging himself along. Although this was funny, I wasn’t keen overall on making Troilus so wimpish. OK, he’s in love, but he sometimes comes across as an ineffectual boy, not the strong warrior he appears to be from other reports. Also his words are given weight during the Helen debate, so he’s obviously not just a wimp.

Finally, this production gave full weight to the warfare elements, so for once the title characters almost take a back seat.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Much Ado About Nothing – YPS – September 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by John Hartoch

Company: Bristol Old Vic Theatre School

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Tuesday 5th September 2006

This was excellent. But for the severe truncation of the play, it would have been a 10/10 performance. I was amazed to find these actors had completed only the first year of a two-year course – several looked so accomplished I would have thought they were already professionals.

Although this telling was succinct, there was time to cover all the high points of the full version, and to include some original business as well. At the beginning, two soldiers march a surly-looking fellow (Don John?) onto stage. Leaving him in the middle, they march to one side and prepare to fire. Another man appears (the Prince?), and gives the signal to shoot. The guns fire, and streamers shoot out – it’s a joke! Not that the chap being shot at enjoys it much.

Then the regular plot starts, with Leonato telling his daughter and niece of the Prince’s return. I was delighted with this Beatrice (Emma Clifford). She nailed Beatrice’s character beautifully – full of chiding without any real malice, but unable to hold her tongue for long. Michelle Lukes was as lively a Hero as I’ve seen, registering a lot more of the character’s emotions, especially during her repudiation at the church. Adam Thomas gave a good performance as Leonato. An older student, he had the advantage of his own years to convey Leonato’s, and he carried the part well, doing a good impression of a bumbling amateur during the deception of Benedick.

When the men arrive, we confirm that the characters in the initial mime were indeed the Prince and Don John. Oliver Millingham plays the Prince as a lively man, fond of practical jokes and arranging other people’s lives for them. Claudio (David Oakes) is tall, handsome and full of nobility and courage, while Benedick (Peter Basham) is a robust type, older than Claudio, and with a healthy dislike of marriage. He pines to “see a bachelor of three score again.” His sparring with and wooing of Beatrice were lively and entertaining, and he moved into the more sombre scenes smoothly and convincingly. His was one of the best performances in a good all-round cast.

Don John was a credible villain, sulking even more after his humiliation at the fake firing squad. Neil Jennings doubled this part with the second watchman, which gave him a chance to show a lighter touch in a comedic role. Another of the best performances came from Nick Whitley as Borachio. He slipped onto stage during the Prince’s promise to woo for Claudio, and seeing what was going on, hid himself behind the curtain to overhear. After they left, he strolled onto the stage, bottle in hand, to let us know his intentions. Nick looked very assured and gave plenty to this small, but important, supporting role. Don John’s other servant, Conrad, was played by Paul Jellis, who also played the friar. Conrad was fine, and I liked the friar, especially when he settled up with the Prince once Benedick agrees to marry.

The parts of Hero and Margaret were being alternated, and today Margaret was played by Notzarina Reevers, doubling with first watchman. Both of these were good performances. Margaret had her flounces from time to time, but she was still the loyal maid enjoying her part in snaring Beatrice for Benedick. First and second watchmen were a great double act, as first watchman had to assert her authority and retain her pike (they only had one between them!). She did this easily, and took to swinging it around in a dangerous manner, as when Dogberry is questioning Conrad and Borachio. Good fun.

So to Dogberry (David Edenfield) and Verges (Matt Barber, doubling as Messenger). Dogberry is such a difficult part to do nowadays, and I’ve rarely enjoyed it. This part was naturally cut right down, yet the character came across just fine, and the climactic “O that I had been writ down an ass!” was very funny. One of the few parts that benefited from the cuts. Verges and Messenger were small parts, and well done, though without much scope for catching the eye.

The set was very simple, as they have to be. Apparently they must be able to be set up and taken down in ten minutes. A curtain formed of four parts hung at the back of the thrust, with words from the play writ large across it. Underneath these were printed dictionary definitions of some of the words, e.g. love, honour, scorn, folly, etc. Two boxes covered in cloth stood towards either side of the curtain, with individual words on each side, echoing the curtain’s decoration. These boxes were moved forward, singly or together, to form seats, tables, plant pots, etc., and other props were added as needed; chairs, trees, altar cloth, and so on. Live music came mostly from behind the curtain, and sometimes on stage or from the sides. They’re a talented bunch, these actors, as they played all the instruments themselves.

The costumes picked up the general theme, as most of the outfits had a word or two painted on them. The Duke had both “Love” and “Scorn” on his trouser legs, Claudio had “Noble”, Benedick had “Sport” and Beatrice had “Scorn” across her stomach. The Prince was in off-white, Leonato in grey, and Don John in black. Because it was so short, there were no costume changes, so Hero had to start off in her wedding dress (white, drop-waisted, with a voile skirt), while Beatrice was wearing bright red, and Margaret wore a fetching blue number. The watch had pudding basin helmets.

One obvious difference from yesterday was the power of delivery. These guys could really fill the space, vocally. I heard virtually every word clearly, and they obviously knew what their characters were saying as well. There were a few problems with sightlines being blocked, but that’s a natural hazard in this space. All in all, this was an amazing production.

Some of the business has already been covered. The scene where the Prince, Claudio and Leonato convince Benedick of Beatrice’s love was a masterpiece. With Benedick lurking behind the curtain, though not completely out of sight, the Prince dishes out the ‘parts’ to the other players. Leonato, an enthusiastic amateur, manages to drop too many of his pages, and there’s a lovely moment of panic as all three scramble to find his lines. As the Prince and Claudio walk and talk, Claudio’s sword accidentally pulls back the curtain, threatening to reveal Benedick, who has to grab it to stay concealed. This amuses the others so much, they make another pass by the curtain to repeat the trick. Frankly, they were laughing so much that it nearly made Benedick a liar when he says their conference was “sadly borne”.

Finally, to tie the production up, the introductory scene was repeated – Don John was led onto stage, the firing squad prepared to shoot, the Prince raised his hand to give the signal – and then the lights went out, leaving us with a lovely, ambiguous ending. We all loved it so much we applauded past the house lights going up, so they took their final curtain call in semi gloom. Great fun, and I hope they all do well in their future careers.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Two Gentlemen Of Verona – August 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Guti Fraga

Company: Nos Do Morro and Gallery37

Venue: Courtyard Theatre

Date: Sunday 27th August 2006

This was our first visit to the Courtyard Theatre, so I had put all my expectations to one side on two counts. Both the play and the venue turned out to be excellent.

First the theatre itself. This is a larger version of the Swan, much larger, and at first I wondered what sort of atmosphere there would be when there was so much space to fill. The flat, black stage reminded me of so many Swan productions, and there seemed to be the usual balconies and side entrances, although the centrepiece at the back may be part of the Henrys set. [Yes, it is.] The seats were the best I’ve ever sat in – tall back, well padded, plenty of room, including leg room. Although we were in the second row of the stalls, we could see well enough over the heads in front. The screen for the surtitles (a last minute decision to show these, apparently) was placed centrally, roughly halfway up the back construction thingummy. This made it much easier to follow the action and read the lines, although our view was blocked occasionally by the actors.

But who needs the English version when the performance is this good? The production was a joint venture between Nos Do Morro, a company in Brazil which gives young people training in theatre and performing arts, and Gallery37, a project based in Birmingham which is due to spread through the country, which again helps young people with difficult backgrounds. Most of the dialogue was spoken in Portuguese, and I didn’t care. I know the play well enough, and from the opening exchange between Valentine and Proteus the acting made the emotions clear. I am going to have to rethink my preference for hearing the English, as it just isn’t working out.

To start with, a group of about twenty-six young folk assembled on stage, faces straight, looking quite sombre, and packed into a square formation. All at once, they broke into music, dance and song, very lively. I have no idea what the song was about, but it was fun. To finish, they closed back up into the square and ‘switched off’. Then the play proper began. The actors used benches at the back to wait their turn, giving a lovely informal feel to the whole piece.

The opening scene between Valentine and Proteus was well acted. It was clear who was the lover and who the traveller. Behind the main action, within a ring of cloth on the floor, stood two other actors, miming to amplify the exchange between the two friends. Throughout the play, actors stood in for scenery, sometimes as chairs, sometimes as doors or walls. One time the spare actors stood in a line, with two of the women holding cloths diagonally to represent doors. This allowed the actors involved in the scene to burst through one set of doors, and, as the walls and doors flowed round ahead of them, through another set. Very effective.

Cloth was another main feature of the production. As well as cloths being used to mark out spaces, various characters wore ponchos, wrapped bits of cloth round themselves, and the letters and papers used in the play were all cloth. The love letter Julia receives from Proteus is made of cloth patches, loosely stitched together, so that she can rip it apart easily.

Probably the star of the show, if there could be one in such an even-handed production, was the dog, Crab. Often a scene-stealer, this particular dog was of the human variety. He was so mischievous, cocking his leg over the audience, having a crap on stage, and shagging one character’s leg pretty vigorously. Each time, he would end up looking quite innocent, tongue hanging out, head on one side. Marvellous fun.

The British participants were mainly involved in the forest scenes, as part of the outlaw band, so we heard the occasional line in English during these scenes. Mostly, though, it was an energetic, expressive version of the play, which got across all the characters and their relationships really well. It was all the more amazing because the two groups had only got together to work on the piece a few days before, and this was the only scheduled performance, so they had no time to bed it in.

After the enthusiastic applause, we were treated to a post-show discussion with all of the cast and the director Guti Fraga, who founded Nos do Morro. This was basically a giant love-in, as all the actors were still pumped up after their excellent performance, and it obviously meant so much to them to have been so well received. Cicely Berry also joined them, and she is clearly much loved by all in both groups. I don’t remember much of what was said – a lot of the information is in the programme notes, anyway – but there was a lovely sense of camaraderie, of the depth of loving and support amongst the group, and the strength of Guti Fraga’s commitment to helping young people realise their potential in a region of the world that most of us would find challenging. It was a heart-warming experience, and I hope there will be more visits from companies such as this one, once the RSC has completed its redevelopment.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Henry VIII – August 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Gregory Thompson

Company: AandBC

Venue: Holy Trinity Church

Date: Friday 25th August 2006

Only one snag with this production, otherwise it would have been a 10/10 at least – the performance space was so uncomfortable and made viewing the performance so difficult that I had to leave at the interval (the late interval), as my neck was already stiffening up, my back was complaining, my bum wasn’t too happy, and I’d missed about half of the dialogue! This was the kind of production that makes you wonder why a play isn’t done more often – what I could see and hear of it was mostly clear, brilliantly performed and very entertaining. I hope they bring it to a proper theatre near us soon!

I particularly enjoyed Antony O’Donnell’s performance as Wolsey – a masterpiece of cunning, conniving, and political manipulation – he could give lessons to the current generation of spin doctors. Special mention also to Corinne Jaber as Queen Katherine, superbly regal and passionate. Anne Boleyn was interesting – although it’s assumed the play is flattering Elizabeth I, as it ends with her baptism, her mother is shown here to be only interested in power and wealth – just how flattering would that have been? All the other parts were great, and despite the discomfort, I found the closeness to the action, and inclusion of the audience in a lot of it, was great fun. I gather the old adage was demonstrated again – never work with children… According to Steve, the baby performing this night was adorable, and few people noticed what the actors were doing during the baptism scene as all eyes were on her at the end.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Henry IV part 2 – July 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Barbara Gaines

Company: Chicago Shakespeare Theatre

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Thursday 13th July 2006

This was probably my most eagerly anticipated performance of the season so far. I had enjoyed Part 1 so much, and was really keen to see how they did Part 2. I wasn’t disappointed.

The start was beyond brilliant. One of the actors was got up in a gaudy costume, bright red with black, sparkling like a glitterball, hair slicked back like a lounge lizard, looking pretty devilish. He stood in one of the aisles as the last of the audience were taking their seats and then addressed us all quite informally. After a few funny comments of introduction, he asked if we’d like to hear some gossip, and after one man said “Yes” loudly enough, he informed us that a lady across from him was having an affair. Funnily enough, with the man who’d called out. By this time, he’d glided over to the centre of the stage, and Rumour (for it was he) launched into the introduction. As he described the various tales of the battle that he’d been telling, the characters appeared briefly on stage. Even as Northumberland is receiving the various versions that have been put about, we see Rumour priming the messengers with his stories, except for the last, who brings the truth – Rumour either avoids or misses him, and glides off stage. Wonderful staging.

Again, the story was well told, and I particularly enjoyed Falstaff’s scenes in the country, another area where previous productions had left me wondering why they bothered. This time, Justice Shallow and Silence were not so gaga and were able to give as good as they got, which made Falstaff’s final abandonment all the more poignant. The symmetry with the first play was evident, with amnesty being offered to the rebels and this time accepted, only for them to be betrayed.

The climax is Hal’s rejection of Falstaff, and this came across very well, with the Royal family members being on the top balcony, and Falstaff and his ‘friends’ below.

An excellent production, with very clear readings of both plays, and some brilliant ideas in the staging.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Henry IV part 1 – July 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Barbara Gaines

Company: Chicago Shakespeare Theatre

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Thursday 13th July 2006

This was great fun. As I watched both of these plays, matinee and evening, I was reminded of Ninagawa’s comments about British actors over-analysing their parts. Here the characters fell into place, especially during the tavern scenes. Instead of Hal and Falstaff’s role-playing having to carry many complex layers of meaningful performance, it was played as more of a jolly romp, with all of the tavern regulars joining in the fun. The extra meanings were still there, but they weren’t allowed to get in the way.

Again, the different accents meant I heard many of the lines more clearly, and some for the first time. The sets were not too detailed – there was a central block which rose or dropped to different levels to create a bed, table, floor or pit, while extra tables and chairs were whisked on and off pretty briskly to create the various scenes. The costumes were quite heavy, and must have been uncomfortable in the heat. They were more medieval romantic, with lots of fur trim, which was a bit of a throwback to old-fashioned Shakespearean productions, but they did the job.

All the performances were excellent. The young man playing Prince Hal apparently had a bad cold, which accounts for his slightly strange accent and occasional loss of power. Apart from that, he had a tendency to twitch and quiver at times of emotional stress, which I felt was unnecessary, but in all other ways he portrayed the character brilliantly. Hotspur’s fiery temperament was very clear, too, along with his tendency to ride roughshod over everyone, even his allies.

The bit parts were noticeably good – a Mistress Quickly from the Bronx was well matched with Pistol, Bardolph, and Nym, all of whom would have fitted right in to New York street life. The poor drawer, Francis, was also much better than average, being not so much stupid as over-eager to please. That ‘comedy’ routine has never worked for me before, but this time I realised it was a forerunner to The Two Ronnies’ wordplay sketches, with Poins getting Francis to say “Anon, anon” in response to Prince Hal’s comments. It still shows an unpleasant side to Hal’s character, but at least this time there was some point to it.

Falstaff’s stealing of Hal’s glory was underplayed here, I thought, and then I checked the text. They played it to the letter. Other productions have made more of the incident, but it’s good to see a cast standing by Will’s version and not trying to over-interpret it. The reading of Falstaff’s papers, listing his copious consumption of sack, was dropped; not sure why, unless the old English monetary references would have been too much.

We’ve decided if we ever get to Chicago, we want to visit this company and see their work again.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Two Noble Kinsmen – May 2006

8/10

By: William Shakespeare and John Fletcher (?)

Directed by: William Oldroyd

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Sunday 21st May 2006

What a treat this was! There had been so much to read when we booked for the first part of this Complete Works festival, that I didn’t really take in the details of many of the productions. So I was surprised (and as it turned out, not particularly delighted) to find Othello was an adaptation. I was just as surprised, but this time totally thrilled, to find out that this one-off rehearsed reading of The Two Noble Kinsmen was being done by the RSC Company touring The Canterbury Tales! The same group whom we’d seen and loved so much in January. They had kindly given up a free day in their very packed schedule, as well as the rehearsal time, of course, to give all of us this treat. Naturally, they were very warmly received at the start, and even more warmly applauded at the end. A few brave ones amongst them even stayed to answer a few questions, but more of that later.

The format was: an introduction by William Oldroyd, the assistant director for The Canterbury Tales and director of Two Noble Kinsmen, followed by a performance of the Knight’s tale from The Canterbury Tales, minus costumes, sets etc, followed by the rehearsed reading of Two Noble Kinsmen. They started with the original introduction by Chaucer (Mark Hadfield), bypassing the time in the tavern, and straight into the Knight’s tale. It was short, of course, covered the salient points (although Chaucer did have to nudge the knight back on track at one point), and I realised I was enjoying it much more than I did first time around. Perhaps I did just get the wrong end of the stick last time.

After the interval, the rehearsed reading began. Straight into the scene where the three queens (promotions there – in Chaucer it’s one queen and two duchesses) sue to Theseus to help them get their dead husband’s bodies to bury. Now Chaucer has Theseus agree pretty swiftly – doesn’t want to bore his readers – but Will (for we believe it was he who penned this scene) takes his time, savours every angle, even has the queens making the most unreasonable demands, to my mind. Only a genius can get away with this sort of thing! Not only do these women want Theseus to fight Creon so that they can bury their husbands, but he must DO IT NOW!, not mess about getting married to Hippolyta first, no chance. It’s no nooky for him till he gets the job done. What also impressed me with this scene is how the women all get a chance to speak, including Hippolyta and her sister Emilia. Fair enough, the knight’s only interested in the fighting bits of his tale, and so the women hardly feature, and that’s fine, but it’s also nice to hear them speak; it seems to me that that’s what Will so often did – gave people a voice who would otherwise never be heard.

Theseus responds pretty well to this badgering – well, the women do give him lots of reverence along the way – and soon Creon is out of office and there are two injured soldiers on the deck who’ve fought for the wrong side and ended up in prison. They get a bit more chat than before as well, telling each other how they’ll get through their life sentences with each other’s support and cousinly love. Boy, does that go out of the window as soon as they set eyes on Emilia.

The action is much brisker now in the play, compared to the story. Almost immediately, Theseus sends for Arcite to tell him he’s banished. Horror of horrors, he doesn’t want to go, but he heads off anyway, determined to come back and win his love, even though Palamon had first dibs on her. Palamon, still in prison, voices his concerns about this.

Now we come to the first major plot change – a whole new subplot about the jailer’s daughter, who has fallen in love with Palamon and arranges to free him. He then goes in search of Arcite, who with remarkable swiftness has reintroduced himself to Theseus’ country, disguised, and worked his way up to something like a squire, serving Emilia or possibly Theseus, I forget which. They meet and arrange to fight, and there’s a touching little scene where they help each other on with their armour, filched from Theseus’ store. It’s amazing how much they love and respect one another, and how willing they are to cut each other into little pieces for the sake of a woman, and one who, let it be remembered, has not yet been told about these frantic lovers, never mind given a choice in the matter! Before they do any real damage, Theseus, ever fond of a bit of hunting, arrives on the scene, and sets them the challenge – come back in a few months with three followers, and fight to the death, with the winner getting the woman. This is a shorter time frame than the Knight’s tale, and many fewer followers – Shakespeare and Fletcher obviously want to cut to the chase. Plus it’s harder to represent a hundred followers on stage compared to the printed, or rather hand-written page.

So off they go, back they come, and stop off at the nearest temple for a spot of prayer. Arcite prays to Mars, god of war, for victory. Palamon prays to Venus for success in love. And Emilia prays to Diana for continued chastity, or, failing that, that the best man wins. Now there’s a smart woman – hedging her bets with a plan B.

There’s an interesting change from the original at this point. The knight understandably gives us the fight in some detail. Shakespeare and Fletcher, on the other hand, ditch the fighting, and stay with Emilia, who has left the arena to await her fate. We hear the result of the battle by report, and so we can concentrate on her reaction. We also hear about Arcite falling off his horse, and he is brought on stage to give us his dying words, leaving Emilia to Palamon. Happy ending.

However, before the credits roll, let us return to the sub-plot. The jailer’s daughter, bless her little heart, has gone a bit crazy at the loss of Palamon. She was due to marry a young local man, but now she’s so far gone she’s convinced Palamon is coming back to marry her (or did Palamon make a promise he didn’t intend to keep?). She happens on a band of country folk who are preparing a small diversion for Theseus, a little dance, and as they’re short of a woman, they ask her to join in, which she does. The diversion, especially the introduction by their leader, a schoolmaster, is blatantly derived from the mechanicals play within A Midsummer Night’s Dream, while the jailer’s daughter treats us to a reprise of Ophelia’s mad scenes from Hamlet – and none the worse for that. Why not recycle some of Will’s greatest hits? After all, we do it often enough nowadays.

After this, the jailer’s daughter is taken home, and to restore her wits, a doctor suggests they tell her that the young man she was due to wed is in fact Palamon come back for her. This seems to do the trick.

While typing this, it became very clear what the differences were between the Knight’s tale and Two Noble Kinsmen. The Knight’s tale is simply telling the story, with very few embellishments, and very little of the characters and their emotional involvement in the play, which is very suitable for a character such as the Knight. By contrast, Two Noble Kinsmen really fleshes out the bare bones, makes the characters much more realistic, and gives us a much fuller emotional, as well as mental experience. The additional sub-plot adds depth, by showing us the flip side of the desperate, irrational love that seizes Arcite and Palamon. And although there’s plenty of humour in the staging of the Knight’s tale, it’s outgunned in that department by the play, as it is in all departments. Actually, it seemed funnier than the production we saw back in the mid-eighties, when it opened the Swan Theatre. Here’s hoping it’s put on again sometime soon, in a full production.

As far as figuring out which bits Shakespeare wrote and which Fletcher – who cares? The consensus in the post-show talk was that Shakespeare wrote the opening section with the queens pleading for revenge against Creon – very probable. The echoes of Will’s previous work may have been ‘homaged’ by Fletcher, and it was suggested that Will supplied the main speeches while Fletcher stitched it together. I’m not sure, but as I said before – who cares? I’d rather just sit down and enjoy the play.

Anything else from the post-show? Just that the actors themselves found that they could spot Shakespeare’s work because of how well it read, and how it improved with use. They should know.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me