Category Archives: Drama

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

Pizarro – July 2006

Experience: 3/10

By R B Sheridan

Directed by Lucy Pitman-Wallace

Venue: Olivier Theatre

Date: Wednesday 12th July 2006

This was a rehearsed reading of a late play by RBS, the only play he wrote after starting his political career. It was based on a German play, and apparently he followed it very closely, whether translating it himself or from a translation, I don’t know.

This reading was put on to tie up with the production of Royal Hunt of the Sun (seen earlier), and a few of the actors came from that production. In fact, the actor playing Pizarro today was the understudy we had seen before, which made it all the more interesting. It was hard to hear all of the actors, as some of them didn’t seem to realise they had to project as much as if it were a regular performance, and in the vastness of the Olivier a lot of the dialogue was lost. We weren’t as close to the action as in, say, the Swan, so that added to the problem.

The dialogue was interesting. RBS is a wordy chap, and although this isn’t a comedy, the same style showed through, and the speeches sometimes seemed overlong. I suspect the rehearsal period wasn’t very long either, as the minimal amount of action didn’t always add to the experience. However, it was still good to see this play, even with these difficulties, as we’re unlikely to see a full performance.

This play seems to be less about Pizarro than his ex-lieutenant who’s gone native, literally. He’s become the native population’s military commander in their resistance to the Spanish conquest, and the play focuses on his rivalry with another native warrior who thinks he should get the job instead. People get captured, released, captured, etc., and there’s a lot of talk about the politics and inhumanity of the situation, with some effort to include the personal feelings as well. Pizarro’s wife, Elvira, also features strongly. She was keen to marry Pizarro at first because she thought his escapades so glorious, but as she saw what was really happening, she came to despise him and his work. Interesting ideas, and I would still  like to see a proper version some time, if we ever get the chance.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

In Praise Of Love – June 2006

Experience: 10/10

By Terence Rattigan

Directed by Philip Wilson

Venue: Minerva Theatre

Date: Tuesday 27th June 2006

This was a superb production of a masterful play. Rattigan at his best. Four characters, three scenes/acts, one set, tightly scripted and brilliantly performed. A great evening.

It took me a while to get Suzanne Burden’s accent for Lydia – Estonian – but once I’d tuned in I was amazed at how well she carried it through all the emotional ups and downs the character goes through. I lost some other of the lines in the early stages, but not enough to give me any problems. How to relate my impressions of this play in detail without churning through the whole story? I reckon this is one play and performance that will live long in my memory, but no harm in giving it a helping hand.

The key for me was Michael Thomas’s performance as Sebastian. He was willing to play the appearance of a real bastard, and never mind the audience’s sympathy. Initially he seems uncaring towards his wife, Lydia, telling her not to bore people with her refugee stories, being completely absent-minded about what she’s doing, and expecting her to fetch and carry all the time, fixing this and that – a real chauvinist pig. He even forgets to turn up for a very important occasion for his son – the first TV screening of his first play, and has been carrying on an affair with another woman for some time. However, there are one or two clues, especially his response to his wife’s near-collapse at the end of the first act, rushing to support her up the stairs to bed. Turns out they’re both lying to each other, for the best possible reason – to protect the other from the horrible truth. Only a friend, Mark, who’s been in love with and loved by Lydia for over twenty years, can be told the truth, by both of them, although we don’t hear Sebastian’s version till the final act.

Surprisingly, after this description, there was a lot of humour in this play. I don’t know what else to add. Words fail me. Just go and see it again if you can.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Titus Andronicus – June 2006

Experience: 3/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Yulio Ninagawa

Venue: RST

Date: Saturday 17th June 2006

Ah well, it couldn’t last. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed Ninagawa’s work in the past – King Lear at the RST and Hamlet at the Barbican – but both of those productions used British actors, and Shakespeare’s text. I liked his slightly stylised approach, with great attention to detail, such that every part of the audience was considered. The pre-show talk was promising too, with Greg Doran chairing a conversation with Ninagawa and Thelma Holt, based on their lengthy collaboration. Even with translation, Ninagawa came across as direct, simple, vastly experienced and still open to learn, with a great sense of humour. Ah well.

I’ve realised from this year’s experiences that I need Shakespeare’s language to really enjoy his plays, regardless of the style of production. I know the Dream earlier used many languages, but there was enough of the original to make sense, and the performances more than made up for the rest of it. Sadly, not so true for this production of Titus Andronicus with Japanese actors and Japanese words.

In the pre-show, Ninagawa explained the difference between working with British and Japanese actors. British actors are more concerned with the text, and with analysing their characters’ backgrounds. If their character is putting a bandage on his foot, they want to know what type of injury it is, how long they’ve had it, and what that tells them about their character’s background. A Japanese actor would simply register that at that point in the play he had to bandage his foot, and carry on to the next thing. Japanese actors are more concerned about the physicality – what they do. Also, many Japanese actors are trained in one or other of the various Japanese theatre styles, all of which have their own rules and forms. They don’t find it necessary to be naturalistic. This possibly explains why I found such a difference between his previous productions and this one. The stylisation with British actors was more restrained – it was a new way of working to them and either they didn’t take to it so well, or Ninagawa realised he needed to go more slowly. Whatever. With highly trained Japanese actors, however, there was no holding back, and as a result I found the stylisation too much to take at times.

Before the action began, the actors had been dressing themselves on stage, in full view of the audience. Apparently some had also been wandering around in the foyer as well. Some of the actors practised running up and down the steps at the front of the stage, getting ready for the active parts of the play. As performance time neared, instructions in Japanese, with English surtitles, were issued through the loudspeakers, and the cast began clearing away the costume rails, and bringing on the giant wolf (see below). It was an interesting start.

The set was promising – very stark. White everywhere, with moveable walls and a HUGE white statue of a wolf suckling Romulus and Remus, which was trundled on and off, and occasionally rotated. Wide steps led down into the auditorium, and the action flowed through the whole space – we were warned to keep the aisles clear at all times. The forest was represented by lots of large leaf shapes, with one large tree trunk in the middle. The costumes must have been hell in hot weather – the senators wore duvets, the soldiers were in several layers of armour, only the women seemed dressed for the heat. Red streamers were used to represent blood – very effective, and although I found it too much at times, I suspect that’s just because this is Shakespeare’s gore-fest, a proper revenge play, and lots of stage blood would have probably got to me as well. (Actually, too much stage blood and I start to worry about how the costume department is going to get it off the costumes!)

This time I was more prepared for the surtitles, and they kept pace with the action much better than before. I was also trying not to look at them so much, so that I could just absorb the performances, but I found it very difficult, especially as I’m not as familiar with this play. Perhaps if there’s another foreign version I’ll study the play in advance, although I won’t know how the director’s cut the thing. Anyway, this time I was able to concentrate on the performances a lot more, and again, there was a lot to enjoy. Tamara’s anger and lust for revenge was matched by her cunning and subtlety – forget Lady Macbeth, this one’s the real danger. Aaron, her lover, was kept very low-key at the start, but came into his own as the play progressed. He snarled and sneered his way across the stage like a comic-book villain, appropriate from a culture that adores those strongly drawn graphic images. I found it a little slow at times, though, as he drew out every snarl to its full extent, but then it did give me plenty of time to catch up on the surtitles if I wanted to.

Titus himself was effectively and movingly played. The old soldier, upright in his integrity, with a lifetime of service to his country through warfare, and, it has to be said, bonking – he has buried over twenty sons, after all. His political naiveté is evident from the start, and is an echo (or precursor?) to Coriolanus’ own Achilles’ heel. His ruthlessness in killing Tamara’s firstborn is also clear, and also recalls King Lear’s absolutism which is so sorely challenged and overcome at great cost. Whether these echoes are intended in this production or just part of my increasing experience of Shakespeare’s plays, I don’t know, but I thoroughly enjoyed them.

Titus’ emotional journey is also well mapped out. Without the understanding of the long speeches, it’s easier to grasp the emotions being expressed, and they come across here so much more strongly because of the stylisation, which allows the actors to go over the top. Grief here really is grief. In the previous Titus, one problem the actors faced was the lack of emotional expression compared with the mentalising the characters do. No such problems here – this is full-on emotional roller-coaster, with gore.

I was reminded once again how Shakespeare balances out the characters, no clear cut heroes and villains. Lavinia and Bassianus may suffer horrible fates, but they’re no innocent victims. Both show how unpleasant they can be – not to the level that justifies their murder and rape, but not beyond reproach, either. Tamara’s rage seems more intelligible here, too. And I enjoyed Marcus’ performance (Titus’ brother), especially the counterpoint of his descent into furious grief just at the moment when Titus breaks through to laughter – he’s done all his crying, now it’s time for revenge.

The scene with Tamara and her sons acting out Revenge, Rape and Murder was well done, and the humour was a welcome relief. With the final enacting of revenge, especially the murder of Lavinia, done very simply and movingly, the play finished stunning the audience, in all sorts of ways.

I’m glad I saw it, I’ve learned a lot from watching it, and from writing these notes, and I’m also glad I don’t have to watch it again. The question always is – what was Will up to when he wrote this? That’s what keeps me watching, that’s what drives me to go to so many different productions. I hope I never answer that question fully.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Enemies – June 2006

Experience: 6/10

By Maxim Gorky, adapted by David Hare

Directed by Michael Attenborough

Venue: Almeida Theatre

Date: Saturday 3rd June 2006

          This was a fascinating play. Chekhov with politics. Where Chekhov is saying a fond farewell to the old ways, Gorky is bellowing a robust “Hello” to the new. This was the Russian revolution in microcosm, including the naïve idealistic bourgeoisie who will be sadly disappointed, not to mention shot, when the revolution has run its course.

There were too many good performances to single anyone out – a real ensemble piece, and with a surprisingly large cast for such a small theatre. The adaptation was excellent, with plenty of humour, and it’s the first time I’ve seen a samovar used properly on stage (or perhaps the first time I’ve noticed it?).

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Voysey Inheritance – June 2006

Experience: 6/10

By Harley Granville Barker

Directed by Peter Gill

Venue: Lyttelton Theatre

Date: Thursday 1st June 2006

Interesting. Steve and I saw a production of this play many years ago, also by the National, but put on in the Cottesloe. Admittedly, I’ve forgotten a lot about that production, but even so, there was a remarkable difference between the two. The previous production was naturally more intimate, seemed to put more emphasis on the scenes in the office, and had more weight to it, less humour. This current production feels more balanced; if anything, the scenes at the family home take precedence, and there’s a much lighter touch throughout. Perhaps it’s simply the difference in the political and social climates then and now, but the play seems very contemporary this time around, very relevant to today’s situations.

I did find the length of time between scenes a little frustrating. Although the elaborate sets created a strong sense of place and time, the pauses to change them over led to a bit of momentum being lost. And why did we need to see a tree at the back of the office building? Nobody went out into the garden or even looked out of a window.

Overall, I suspect I would prefer the earlier production, if I could remember it clearly, but this was a very good effort. Again, we were struck by how fresh some older plays can seem, if they’re well written.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

A Touch Of The Sun – May 2006

Experience: 3/10

By N C Hunter

Directed by Joanna Read

Venue: Connaught Theatre

Date: Thursday 25th May 2006

This was an old-fashioned play, not just because it was written and first produced in 1957, but because the values it expressed seemed so dated. A socialist schoolteacher, who works in a lesser public school for backward boys (goodness knows what term we would use now!) scrimping and saving to make ends meet, gets invited to Cannes for a holiday by his brother, the new husband of a relatively wealthy woman. This sets up all sorts of stresses and strains on the family relationships, especially between the teacher and his wife and him and his son.

His wife enjoys herself enormously at Cannes. She’s being entertained by a charming business man who’s inherited his wealth, and although she doesn’t fall in love with him, she’s very prepared to take full advantage of his time and companionship. The son is also keen to take advantage of an offer of work at his company. This probably upsets the father more than anything else, as his plan was for his son to become a schoolteacher. Eventually, he seems to realise he can’t run his son’s life, and accepts that he’s free to make his own choices. I did enjoy one bit where he comments on what he’s taught his son “since he was old enough to think for himself”! Seems like it’s OK to think for yourself as long as you think the same way Dad does.

There’s also his own father who’s being shuttled around between the families, although he ends up with the long-suffering schoolmaster as the flighty young Canadian sister-in-law just does not get on with him – he gets in the way of her socialising.

It was an interesting play to watch. It gave an insight into the concerns of its time, the period after WWII when ideals and materialism clashed. It would seem ludicrous now to have a character so obsessed with despising wealth and so completely incapable of having fun. But in this context it worked, and the acting was good enough to make it believable. There was good all round support, and the only drawback was that it all seemed a bit pointless – an historical debate that’s not so relevant today, but worth seeing for the different perspective.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Entertaining Angels – May 2006

Experience: 6/10

By Richard Everett

Directed by Alan Strachan

Venue: Chichester Festival Theatre

Date: Tuesday 23rd May 2006

This was an entertaining piece of theatre, with much to recommend it. The house was packed, probably because Penelope Keith was starring, as a vicar’s widow, guilt-stricken with the belief that she had killed her husband (Benjamin Whitrow). The support cast were excellent, including Polly Adams as the widow’s sister, who announces she had a one-night stand with the deceased thirty years before and bore him a son, in Africa, where she’d gone to work as a missionary. It transpires that at the same time as she was carrying one son successfully to term, the widow had been losing her son, so there’s much family grief and resentment to cover there.

But that’s not all. The vicar having died, a new priest is being installed in the vicarage, and a woman at that (Caroline Harker). The widow’s daughter, Abigail Thaw, is a helpful-to-the-point-of-control-freak counsellor/therapist, who doesn’t seem to be grieving so much as sorting out everyone else’s lives. She contributes to the next generation’s lapses by having a one night stand with the new vicar’s husband (Michael Lumsden). Just to round it all off, the recently departed vicar is still to be seen pottering about the garden, doing those important odd jobs, and chatting to his widow about life, both before and after death.

This sounds like a fruitful opportunity for farce, but while there is a great deal of comedy and humour in this play, it has that lovely balance between humour and sadness, and even anger that is much more representative of ordinary life than more easily categorised dramas. This was even commented on in the post-show discussion by Ms Keith.

The funniest moments for me arose out of the husband’s (Lumsden’s) infatuation with the daughter (Thaw), believing their brief encounter to be more significant than she does. He tells the daughter that he has already told his wife everything, and that he wants to start a new life with her, much to the daughter’s horror. While she’s busy dealing with her difficult mother, her aunt has a heart-to-heart with the husband, and discovers that he hasn’t really told his wife anything – chickened out at the last minute. She advises him wisely to handle the changes in his life more practically than throwing himself at the first new woman that comes along, and on no account to tell his wife what’s happened, but to stay with her and work at their relationship. He agrees. At this point, the wife arrives, as does the daughter, who proceeds to launch into the most abject apology for her own behaviour, completely ignoring all pleas to leave well alone from husband and aunt, and completely mystifying the wife, but thoroughly pleasing the audience. The scene went on for some time, and I really thought the wife might twig, but no, she remained blissfully innocent.

Penelope Keith played the widow very well. She’s had years of resentment bottled up, and now she’s letting it out on everyone around her – not a pleasant character to be with. Apart from her belief that she’d killed her husband (not true), she resented losing him emotionally after the death of their son, and finding out about the other son is more than she can handle to begin with, understandably so. Of course, these details come out bit by bit during the play – it’s very hard to report them as they happened.

Benjamin Whitrow as the deceased husband has a fine time meandering through the play, giving us an insight into their relationship, and adds much of the humour, too. The daughter I have already described – very much the organiser, not happy that her mother is going batty and pretending to talk to her father all the time. The aunt is enjoyable, a little off the beaten track, as it were, through having very different experiences from the average Brit, but with a lot of common sense gained through painful experience. The new vicar comes across as almost New Labour in her perkiness and over-the-top intimacy, such as holding the widow’s hand to comfort her and show sympathy regardless of the widow’s preferences. But she obviously has a good heart, and while I would have liked her to have been more savvy about her husband, there wouldn’t be drama if characters didn’t have flaws. Her husband is beautifully portrayed, as a man who has reached forty, started to re-evaluate his life, and fallen for the first female he’s met who’s different from his wife, thinking she’s perfect and will make him happy.

The set design was interesting, with walls blending into sky and foliage, presumably suggesting the blurring of the boundaries between this world and the afterlife. Unfortunately, some slack had crept into the backdrop, so we were treated to some peculiar-looking swag-shadows this evening – a not-to-be-repeated event, I’m sure, certainly not if the designer has his way. Along the front of the stage was a stream, with real water, and the garden area had real grass. To create different scenes, a swathe of willow branches was lowered towards the front of the stage to distance the stream from the garden, making it more secluded. I thought this worked really well.

The less good things I found were the lack of sympathy I felt for the central character, some theological comments which went over my head, and a sense that the play has more to offer. See below. But despite these few cavils, this was a very enjoyable evening with a splendid cast.

         Post-show discussion: All the cast stayed behind (this was a short play, finishing at about 9:30 p.m.), along with the writer and set designer. Points raised included the difficulty of projecting to such a large auditorium, especially with the audience on three sides, and the need to keep turning round to include various sections of it; it’s better to have a writer who’s also been an actor because he understands their needs; the possible changes that might have to be made if the show were to transfer to a proscenium arch theatre; possible rewriting anyway now the author has seen such a good cast bring the play to life and given him new ideas; many actors’ terror at having to do post-show discussions, although some, such as Abigail Thaw actually enjoy it; the importance of audience vocal feedback, letting the actors know the audience is with them; how differently audiences react to significant revelations in the play, especially the widow’s announcement that she’s killed her husband – the response varies, but again shows the audience is taking it all in. The discussion ended with much appreciation of the cast from the audience members who had stayed behind.

© 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