Category Archives: Theatre

Dickens Unplugged – February 2008

6/10

By Adam Long

Directed by Adam Long

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Friday 15th February 2008

This has been a good week for dogs. On Wednesday, there was a lovely (or not-so-lovely) pooch in Brief Encounter, and tonight we had not only another cuddly pooch (Dora’s little fashion accessory), but also a massive bull terrier, courtesy (if that’s the right term) of Bill Sykes. The cute little pooch nearly stole the show, as they have a tendency to do, I find. Perhaps it was the way it waved at its fans in the audience….

This was the Reduced Shakespeare version of Dickens, and done in much the same style as the Shakespeare, but with more music. There were five actors this time, and they were all well used. Despite all of the cast being male, I found the women’s parts particularly impressive, especially as they often told the male characters where to shove it. Something not often found in the original works, true, but I’m sure they were updating the stories with integrity and love. This lot are, after all, the best Charles Dickens tribute group in the world!

After the opening song, Dickens himself arrives, and remonstrates with the band. The set is a cornucopia of Dickensian bric-a-brac, with signs springing forth from either side, above their heads, and across the floor, to tell us which book we’re being treated to for the next five seconds. Condensed storylines are rattled off in song, and we get to see longer passages from David Copperfield, A Tale of Two Cities, and, finally, A Christmas Carol. All of this was interspersed with information about Dickens’s life and death. It was a heady brew.

What did I like most? The guillotine sequence, with Sidney Carton’s head popping up to sing the last line of his song. The way various characters keep interrupting David Copperfield as he’s trying to hear Dora’s last words. Tiny Tim riffing on his electric guitar (I still got the sniffles when Tiny Tim came on). The quick passing of many years, demonstrated by a sign saying “many years” being whisked across the stage. Dickens, ill in bed, being haunted by the “ghosts” of Bill Sykes and Miss Faversham, who’re both annoyed at the way he bumped them off. The early concatenation of songs from Oliver, which annoys Dickens so much he has them act out some correct scenes instead. The over-acting of the bludgeoning scene from Oliver Twist, which was apparently Dickens’ favourite to act out on stage. His ex and Ellen agreed at his graveside that that was what did him in, all that bludgeoning. The three ghosts of Christmas, especially the final one, with his pathetic “woooo”.

It took me a bit of time to get warmed up tonight, so I may have underestimated the performance, but I suspect there’s more to come. There are some more serious bits to this show, but they are brief, and overall it’s lively, entertaining, and fun. I hope they have a good run in London.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Visiting Mister Green – February 2008

5/10

By Jeff Baron

Directed by Patrick Garland

Venue: Rose Theatre, Kingston

Date: Thursday 14th February 2008

This was a straightforward odd couple two-hander. The couple in question are Mr Green, an old Jewish guy living at the top of an apartment block, and Ross, the young man who nearly ran him over when he walked out onto the road without looking. Despite Mr Green being entirely to blame, as Ross sees it, Ross is the one doing community service, and a judge has ordered that he spend some time every week helping Mr Green in whatever way he needs help. Mr Green, being old (86?), doesn’t want help; he just wants to waste away now his wife’s dead.  Needless to say, the two get to know, like and respect each other, and Mr Green finally gets in contact with another family member he’d cut out of his life for years.

It’s a good play, well constructed, and I enjoyed this first trip to the Rose Theatre at Kingston. The theatre is pretty rough and ready, with some work still to be done, but the seats were comfortable enough, and the facilities plain but good. The staff were certainly welcoming and helpful, and with an easy train connection we hope to make this a regular stop.

The only down side to this performance was that Warren Mitchell is showing his age, not just acting it. The performances were good, but lacked power, and I feel that more could be got out of both parts with a stronger actor in the title role. That said, it was certainly entertaining, and I’m glad we managed to catch this production on tour.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Brief Encounter – February 2008

8/10

By Noel Coward, adapted by Emma Rice

Directed by Emma Rice

Company: Kneehigh

Venue: The Cinema, Haymarket

Date: Wednesday 13th February 2008

This was definitely the best combination of cinema and theatre I’ve ever seen. The way the two media were blended together created a tremendous experience, and the seats were a lot comfier too. And there were cucumber sandwiches in the intermission!

The story of Brief Encounter is comingled with several Noel Coward songs and poems, performed by the staff at the railway station, a talented bunch who can turn their hands to most things. As well as sporting a magnificent rear end and selling delicious looking cakes, the chief tea lady Tamzin Griffin plays the cello and sings. Her helper, Amanda Lawrence, also sings and dances, and there are contributions by the others as well.

First, the set. The entire width of the stage was used, with plush curtains coming across to screen off the sides occasionally. At other times we could see the scaffolding on each side, with the stairs leading up to the gantry at the back. There was an oven door set into the back wall, the tea shop counter on the left, and some tables and chairs to the right. The back wall was used as a screen, while another screen, made of strips, came down near the front on several occasions, and allowed characters to slip on and off screen – very effective. It was mainly used to show Laura rejoining her husband. The first time, she was obviously reluctant to leave her lover, but later, there was a sense of finality, as she chooses her husband over Alec. When needed, the same chairs and lamp were brought on for a scene with her husband on the stage. Their children were large puppet dolls.

The performance started with the ushers and usherettes lining up on each side of the stage, and serenading us with some lovely harmonies. Then the two lovebirds, who were sitting in the middle of the front row, began having an argument. She got up and walked off, and from there we got all sorts of entertainment, some on stage, some in the auditorium, some filmed, some song and dance. But they kept the focus and the momentum going brilliantly throughout.

They made a lot more of the minor characters, but eventually the love story gets underway, and we’re treated to a couple of outstanding performances by Naomi Frederick and Tristan Sturrock as the two lovers. They give us all the necessary emotional restraint and upper class accents, while at the same time making the passion underneath it all believable. This passion is often represented by having a film of waves crashing on the shore projected on the screen at the back, and playing some sweeping classical music as the characters swoon briefly in their chairs in the tea room. On one occasion this segues nicely into a scene with Laura’s husband, where he asks her to turn the music down.

The interval was an intermission, and there were some lovely adverts shown, all done in the style of the day, and finishing with the cheesy grins which are held for a second or two longer than is natural. Then the cucumber sandwiches arrived, and we both had one – lovely.

In the second half, we get the scene where the lovers’ final parting is ruined by a friend of Laura arriving and taking over the conversation. She’s played here by Amanda Lawrence, who also plays Beryl in the tea-room. She’s wearing an outrageously long feather on her hat – nearly pokes Alec’s eye out – and she has a cheeky wee dog that steals the show. It’s another puppet, or perhaps a mop, but with a massive personality. After the curtain calls, the final piece of music accompanying our exit is Joe Jackson’s Fools in Love – very appropriate.

This is Kneehigh as I like them best – imaginative, inventive, and telling a story well, despite all the apparent distractions. We left the theatre, sorry cinema, or was it a theatre…? Anyway, we left feeling very happy, especially as there’d been a few sniffles to accompany the many laughs.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Homecoming – February 2008

8/10

By: Harold Pinter

Directed by: Michael Attenborough

Venue: Almeida Theatre

Date: Saturday 9th February 2008

After the first scene of this play, I wondered why it wasn’t better known, even done in schools. After the first half, I had a pretty good idea why it wasn’t done in schools, but I’m still not clear why it isn’t better known, and done more often. Perhaps the violence and misogyny put people off. If so, it’s a shame, because it’s a brilliantly written play, full of Pinter’s ambiguities and menacing intonations, and with the rhythms and cadences making it seem like a classical composition rather than a play.

The story, if it can be called that in a Pinter play, concerned the return of one of three sons to the house he grew up in. It’s an all-male household – the father, his brother, and the other two sons. The returning son has brought his wife, and in this production they’ve cast Jenny Jules as the wife, Ruth. This was suggested by Pinter himself, apparently, as well as being the director’s choice, so the juxtaposition of unknown wife and abandoned family is theoretically given an added dimension by having her played by a black actress. However, there’s nothing much in the dialogue to suggest that anyone takes any notice of her skin colour, so in some ways this was a wasted opportunity, and we’re effectively dealing with colour blind casting again. Anyway, she’s an excellent actress, and played the part with great assurance, bringing out what little of her character Pinter puts on the page. Let’s face it, he never could do women well, so this is really a play about the male relationships, and the men’s inability to relate to women as anything other than whore or saint, and often confusing the two.

The scenes give us glimpses of the characters in action. The father, Max (Kenneth Cranham) would give Alf Garnett six lengths start and still pass him well before the furlong pole. He’s a bitter, twisted old man, who spends his time alternating between smooth charm (rarely) and vicious ranting (mostly). He’s obviously done his fatherly duty by hitting his sons copiously with his stick, and I wondered what treatment his wife received when she was still alive. When he first sees Ruth, he attacks Teddy (Neil Dudgeon) for bringing a whore into the house. Even when he’s been told she’s Teddy’s wife, he still has a rant, and then he’s all charm and smarm with her.

Teddy is a strange character. At first he seems nervous and over-anxious, as he and his wife arrive. His meeting with his dad has some very uncomfortable undertones, as they square up for either a battle or a cuddle. It’s clear he’s done his best to get away from the toxic atmosphere of the house, which is why he’s been in America for the last nine years. He’s a doctor of philosophy, literally, as philosophy is his subject. He then decides to leave; presumably the family hasn’t improved over the years he’s been away. However the family want Ruth to stay and look after them, at least when she isn’t turning tricks on the side to help make ends meet. Teddy seems completely unconcerned by this, and is totally happy to leave his wife with this group of Neanderthals. Strange doesn’t quite cover it.

Lenny (Nigel Lindsay), the second son, is a smooth operator. We don’t find out what business he’s in till the second half – he runs a number of prostitutes. He seems to have got past his upbringing by no longer being frightened of his dad, but when confronted with Ruth’s calm assurance, he becomes quite nervous. Joey (Danny Dyer) is the third son, a boxer still under the influence of his dad. He’s the quiet one. There’s also Sam (Anthony O’Donnell), Max’s brother, who works as a chauffeur by day and does the dishes by night. He’s clearly the sensitive one in the family, and the only one who seems to value women for more than sex and housework.

Ruth is the typical female blank at the centre of Pinter’s work. She’s described, by herself and Teddy, as the perfect wife and mother – they have three boys back in America – yet she shows a strange tendency to use sexual allure to enthral the men in the house. She has an encounter with Lenny early on, where he tries to impress her by telling her how he beats up women (not a chat-up line I’d recommend, by the way), and she unnerves him by staying calm and asking straightforward questions. She wins the battle of wills over a glass of water, and yet she seems to be propositioning Lenny. Later, when Joey comes downstairs after spending two hours upstairs with her, it turns out he hasn’t done anything – no sex, nothing. According to his tales of other encounters with women, this is not usual. All these men are attracted to her – moths and flame spring to mind – yet they’re able to talk of putting her on the game so she can earn some money for her keep. At the end, she chooses to stay with the family, on her terms, and as her husband leaves, she’s sitting in the main chair, Max’s chair, just beginning to smile. Her reign has begun, but what sort of a reign will it be in that household? It reminded me of Lord of the Flies, but with a woman involved.

This description really doesn’t get across the beauty of the language. Even with all the swearing and crudity, it was powerful and focused. The performances got the most out of it, and although I would like to see it again, I’m not sure it could be done better. I just hope it is done again – it deserves to be.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Equus – February 2008

6/10

By: Peter Shaffer

Directed by: Thea Sharrock

Venue: Chichester Festival Theatre

Date: Thursday 7th February 2008

It’s strange that I found the previous performance of Equus in London more enjoyable than this one, yet I prefer this performance space – I felt it suited this production more – and the performances were as good, if not better. I think this is an example of the surprise factor. I had a greater sense of wonder and awe the first time round as I hadn’t seen the horse designs before. This time, they were still good, but not such a lift to my system. Some of the magic had gone. Ah well.

Simon Callow played the psychiatrist this time, and Alfie Allen the young man. Simon Callow’s portrayal was much more uptight, and I got a greater sense of someone wrestling with their own demons, never mind someone else’s. He seemed on the verge of a breakdown, and although I didn’t entirely relate to the imagery of the horse’s head, I got the sense of something powerful which he had to come to terms with. Alfie Allen’s performance was very good, and this time I felt that even if the sex had happened in a less stressful place, he might not have got over his obsession. With the more open performance space, I had a greater sense of all the contributing factors to his fixation.

Apart from the cast changes, the only other change I noticed was that when Alan went to blind the horses, the lights went out together, instead of one by one, as they did in the West End. A very enjoyable reprise for a very good production.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Statement Of Regret – February 2008

6/10

By: Kwame Kwei-Armah

Directed by: Jeremy Herrin

Venue: Cottesloe Theatre

Date: Wednesday 6th February 2008

This was an interesting and stimulating experience. It’s the first play I’ve seen by Kwame Kwei-Armah, and I was impressed by how well he intertwined the personal and the social, how the characters weren’t just mouthpieces for the ideas they’re putting forward. On the other hand, while the performances were excellent, and the play informative, I didn’t feel I could relate to the characters as much as I’d hoped. I’ve had no difficulty with other “black” plays, e.g. Big White Fog, so I’m not sure how much of the distance I felt was down to me (very possible), and how much down to what Steve described as a lack of soul (also possible). Steve has seen other plays by this writer, and found the same deficiency in his other work. I certainly didn’t feel there was anything missing while I was watching the piece, although now that I have a little distance from it, I find there was nothing happening which I really cared about. And from their actions sometimes, it seemed the characters didn’t really care either.

The story is of an older man of West Indian parentage, returning from an enforced leave of absence, who has a breakdown right in front of us. As he runs a policy think tank on black affairs, this is bad news for the whole organisation – five men, two women, and no dog. Actually, given that the two women are this guy’s wife and his mistress, it’s clear the female point of view is going to be pretty limited, and so it proved. But that’s not a problem if the rest of the play can deliver, and most of the time it did.

On the personal level, this chap not only has his mistress, but also his son working for him, while another, illegitimate, son joins them as an intern during the play. Lots of scope for personal issues there. There’s also a gay black guy, and a laid back colourful character who delivers the post and does the opening and closing prayers for meetings, and a partner who is thinking of accepting a candidacy as an MP for the Tories. He’s really covered the ground, but it didn’t seem formulaic at the time, so apologies if my description makes it seem that way.

Don Warrington played the lead character, Kwaku, who is imploding before our eyes. His drinking is obvious, his delusional state less so, but it becomes clearer as the play progresses. His refusal to handle the grief he feels over his father’s death a couple of years ago, plus his guilt and other emotions, drive him crazy. He gradually takes on his father’s persona, eventually making some outrageous racist and anti-Semitic remarks in a TV interview which pretty much wipe out the good he’s done with the organisation over the years. It’s a good performance, and came across pretty powerfully in that small space. I did need a little time to adjust to his use of two different accents, but once I did I found it a useful way of showing what the character was going through, not knowing what path to follow.

The central conflict of ideas was whether black people who are descended from slaves are a distinct group with different needs and therefore should campaign separately, or whether there’s greater strength in all black people working together to further their joint aims. The divisions in the “black community” were very apparent here. Those from Africa who had settled here to find better education, jobs, etc, regarded themselves as different from (and better than) those who had come over from the West Indies. The statistics quoted made it clear that young men with an African origin were doing very well, while West Indian derived young men were at the bottom of the heap. The idea of Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome was raised and briefly discussed, but didn’t get a full treatment, as the play was covering a wider range than just one issue, albeit a big issue. (Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome is an idea put forward by Dr Joy De Gruy Leary, and the program notes contain a discussion between her and the author.) The whole conflict was personalised here, because Kwaku’s legitimate son has an African mother, and so is neither one thing nor the other. His father’s rejection of him as not being properly West Indian is deeply hurtful.

The set is two offices, with doors off to right and left up some stairs. In the foreground is the open-plan office, with Kwaku’s office above and behind. Obviously, when action was taking place there, the front office had to go quiet, and this led to a strange lull the day after the really bad TV interview, when the characters left in the office would have surely been doing more than sitting at their desks looking glum while the other characters were having their row in the upper office. However, there was no other way to stage it, and it didn’t distract me too much – just a passing thought.

I don’t feel I’ve been able to put down the real experience of this play so far. It was fine watching it, but now I just seem to be left with ideas, and nothing much in my gut. So I’ll leave it there, and hope I can get enough out of these descriptions to recall the feelings, such as they were.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Late Edwina Black – February 2008

7/10

By William Dinner and William Morum

Directed by Ian Dickens

Company: Ian Dickens Productions

Venue: Connaught Theatre

Date: Friday 1st February 2008

Both Steve and I went to this convinced we’d seen it before, many years ago, but couldn’t remember the details. Having seen it, either our memories are seriously bad on this one, or we hadn’t seen it before at all. I hope the latter is true. Anyway, it meant we were in for an intriguing evening.

The Edwina Black of the title is a Rebecca-like figure. Her loss is mourned by her faithful servant Ellen, but her husband Gregory is glad she’s dead. As is Elizabeth Graham, Edwina’s companion for several years, who appears to have divided her time between helping Edwina and falling in love with Gregory. He has reciprocated, and now the two of them are planning a little trip to the Italian lakes with Edwina’s money. Ah ha, we think, they’ve bumped her off so they can enjoy their life together. Case solved.

But along comes a detective, Henry Martin, to announce that the Home Office isn’t entirely satisfied with the death certificate and the funeral, scheduled for the next day, will have to be postponed. Concern from both potential murderers. As the story unwinds, we get to see each of them go through the mental strain of the investigation. However, it soon becomes clear (or does it?) that each of them thinks the other one has killed Edwina. They manoeuvre round one another, and it becomes obvious that their relationship isn’t going to survive. All sorts of accusations are flung back and forth, and it’s fascinating to see these two crumbling under the pressure. Eventually, the dogged persistence of the policeman pays off, and with a nice little test involving a cup of tea the guilty culprit is finally exposed. Relief! (For us, not for the two lovers.)

I sort of guessed the answer early on but got distracted by all the other possibilities they were going through, so I can’t claim to have solved it at all. I don’t often get taken on such a roller-coaster ride by thrillers these days (I’ve seen too many of them) so this was a refreshing change. The performances were all fine, and I heard just about everything. The set was standard Victorian drawing-room; chairs by the fire on our left, table and chairs to the right, doors either side, stairs in far right corner, French windows centre back. There were also some wind chimes by the window, Edwina’s favourites, and after establishing these with a breeze blowing through the open doors early on they occasionally moved about when the doors were closed, just to remind the lovers of Edwina’s presence. Spooky. And good fun.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Othello – January 2008

7/10

By: William Shakespeare

Directed by: Michael Grandage

Venue: Donmar Theatre

Date: Thursday 31st Janaury 2008

The advantage of the Donmar is that, even at the back of the stalls, we were only four rows away from the action. I do love this theatre.

This production was pretty good too. I haven’t seen Shakespeare done in this more than intimate space before, and it worked pretty well. The down side is that there’s no room to put extra characters on stage to pad out the larger scenes, so here the Duke is in conference with only one other member of Venice’s governing body, a trifle sparse for realism. But it does trim everything down to the essentials, and some aspects of these plays come out all the clearer for that.

Here the staging was minimalist, as you might expect. A grating ran along the floor in front of the back wall, and allowed for some dripping water. There were just a few hints of a canal-based society, in the rings attached to the back wall, for example. There was a lovely effect when some golden curtains dropped down from above to create the bedroom scene – a beautiful mist of golden rain. There were also some canopies used earlier in the play, but as we were in the back row, I didn’t get a very good view of these.

I also didn’t get a good view of James Laurenson as Brabantio, as he was located above us on the balcony for the opening scene. This wasn’t a problem, as most of the dialogue came across perfectly well, and Brabantio was soon downstairs, determined to get his revenge for his lost daughter. It was an OK performance, but again I found I lost a lot of his dialogue during the play. Roderigo was good, a gullible nobleman, but not quite as stupid as some I’ve seen.

Othello’s speech to the court was interesting. I got the distinct impression he’s a real storyteller, embellishing real incidents to get the most drama out of them – a drama queen but with some basis in truth. He also seems to believe the stories he tells, and this suggested to me his readiness to believe other people’s stories. Chiwetel Ejiofor paced his performance very well. At first he just didn’t seem to get what Iago was trying to tell him, showing he was free from any suspicions of Desdemona, then as he grasped what was being said, he was all too ready to embellish it himself. This man has never learned to temper his emotions with thought, unlike Iago, who has more thought than emotion in this production. At times I felt that Othello was falling into the traps as fast as Iago could set them, and some indication of Iago reacting to his good fortune would have been welcome. However.

Back to the earlier scenes. I was aware of Desdemona’s willingness to deceive her father – despite her demureness, there’s a real spirit there, and perhaps less pure innocence than she would have us believe. I did think her love for Othello was pure, but she’s not as above board as is often made out. After all, she prevaricates about the handkerchief instead of coming clean, so she’s certainly capable of lying. I found her less convincing towards the end, although these are difficult scenes for any actress.

The killing worked well, with Othello strangling her on the floor, then putting her on the bed. As we were in the back row, we could easily hear the “noises off” – they were right behind us – including Amelia’s calls which interrupt Othello in the act. This final scene has a strange rhythm. There are lots of long speeches from Othello, while others stand around, amazed, “and know not what to say” (Hermia, Dream), which can seem a little odd. Likewise, Amelia, determined to dish the dirt on her husband, now she knows just what he’s been up to, spends most of her time telling us she’s going to tell all, before getting round to actually doing it. I did feel this time that it was touch and go as to whether the listeners would believe her or her husband, but once he’d stabbed her, it was obvious to everyone who was telling the truth. This interpretation made a lot of sense to me.

So, overall I enjoyed the performance, even though I found myself nodding off a little at the start of the second half (more tired than I realised, and not enough happening on stage). My main concern was the weakness of Iago. He told us that he hated Othello and why, then he did everything he could to bring about his downfall, so I have to believe he meant it, yet I couldn’t have told from his body language or delivery of the lines that he was remotely bothered about the man. I don’t need actors to writhe around in fits of agony, nor go bouncing off walls, but I do think such apparent passion for revenge would give us some tell-tale signs, especially during the soliloquies. There are people who bottle up their emotions, true, but they’re a lot less interesting to see performed on stage than in other media – we’re there, for God’s sake, so give us something to work with! Anyway, the lines were spoken well, and I understood from those what was going on inside this Iago, so that will have to do.

Almost forgot – the play started very abruptly, as is appropriate, without the usual dimming of the lights. Just Iago and Roderigo rushing on, yelling out to Brabantio. Nice touch, and it meant we were all awake for the opening scene.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Much Ado About Nothing – January 2008

9/10

By; William Shakespeare

Directed by: Nicholas Hytner

Venue: Olivier Theatre

Date: Wednesday 30th January 2008

We’d seen such a great Much Ado last summer in the Swan, part of the Complete Works, that I was a bit worried that we wouldn’t appreciate this one fully. I didn’t have too much to worry about, though. While it wasn’t as lively as the RSC production, this performance had some of the best interpretations of the lines I’ve heard, and seen. Some of the business was off the text, but still incredibly funny, and the relationship between Beatrice and Benedick was detailed and moving, as well as bringing out the humour brilliantly.

The set used the revolving box from The Alchemist (Oct 2006), with wooden slatted walls on two sides, and pergolas along them. There were flats with upper windows at various angles behind the box. Furniture was brought on as needed, and with the revolve, the next scene could be set up without distracting us from the current scene – very effective. During the marvellous overhearing scenes, there was a pond in the main area, and it’s put to good use – both Beatrice and Benedick fall in it. Although this set up allowed for greater flow between the scenes, I did feel the pace was a bit slow at times.

The costumes were a mixture, part Jacobethan, part Olde Worlde, as far as I could tell; let’s face it, I’m not an expert in these matters, and that’s probably why I don’t get put off productions that have made unusual costuming decisions. Anyway, I liked them. So there.

There were several of the female cast on stage at the start, nibbling away at fruit and the like, and chatting. Leonato arrives with Beatrice, and joins them. I do like this kind of opening –we have to pay attention for longer to see what’s going to happen. Unfortunately, they work best if the audience cooperates, and this time we had a chatty couple behind who weren’t going to give up their talking time just to allow us all to drink in the atmosphere being so carefully set up for us. (B*$^&@#>.)

Along comes the messenger, giving Leonato a letter, and so out of breath he has to sit down for a bit. They get him some food and water to wash in, etc. Beatrice is sprawled on a chair at the end of the table, and joins in with her bitchy questions from there. It’s a good start, giving us the background, the information that Hero fancies Claudio, and the beginning of a understanding of the relationship between Beatrice and Benedick.

When Don Pedro does arrive, attended by various nobles, the bows and curtseys are quite formal, indicating that Don Pedro, a prince of Arragon, is pretty senior in this society, and not to be trifled with. He, on the other hand, has no concerns about trifling with other people. I was very aware in this production that he seems to be determined to get involved in everyone else’s life, and doesn’t seem to have much of a life of his own. The reactions from Claudio later on, when Don Pedro is spelling out how he’ll woo Hero on Claudio’s behalf, make it quite clear that Claudio isn’t keen on the idea, but doesn’t know how to get this point across to the prince. Likewise, when Beatrice has made it clear that she’s been romantically involved with Benedick before, and it didn’t end happily, the prince suddenly announces he’s going to play a trick on both Beatrice and Benedick to get each to fall in love with other, and all for sport! What a great laugh they’ll all have. It’s a really unpleasant side to the prince’s character, and I’ve never seen it brought out so much before (or I just never spotted it before). Admittedly, Beatrice has just made a faux pas – not only does she reject Don Pedro’s suggestion that she and he could become an item, she possibly triggers the offer by getting a bit frisky, and slapping the prince on the bum! It’s possible he feels hurt (emotionally, that is) and wants some revenge, but I didn’t get that from this performance. On the whole, it came across as the prince just being incredibly insensitive to the feelings of those around him, and this may partially explain why Don John, his brother, doesn’t like him.

Back with the prince’s first entrance (I hope you’ve got a cup of tea, this may take some time), Benedick and Beatrice are soon sniping at each other, while the others drift off towards the back of the stage. That was one of the things I liked about this staging – the set design made it easy for characters to drift in and out of the main playing area, whichever one was facing us at the time, and to wend their way around as the set rotated, making this much less static, and much more interesting. I got the impression that Benedick is fending Beatrice off – he’s had enough of her rough tongue, and wants to avoid her as much as possible. Yet, when he’s trying to talk Claudio out of being in love with Hero, he readily refers to Beatrice in superlative terms. She “exceeds her [Hero] as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of December”. Pretty clear what he thinks of Beatrice as a woman, then. And this lays the groundwork nicely for the declaration of love in the church.

After the prince’s arrival, Benedick is quick to mention that he’s bursting to tell him everything – blabber mouth. I loved the delivery of these lines. Simon Russell Beale has such an ability to speak Shakespearean lines as though they made sense, which means they often do, and this was no exception. Along with the other members of the cast, I must add, who all contributed to this intelligent and intelligible production.

This was one of those occasions when the stage revolved to allow the characters to move into another part of the premises. As the men are talking, well, actually, as Benedick is railing against marriage with short contributions from the other two, they move round into the prince’s bedchamber, so he can change his shirt. While he does this, and after Benedick has left, the prince and Claudio discuss Hero, and the prince comes up with his plan to do the wooing for Claudio. Claudio keeps trying to get some words out to express his concern about this, but doesn’t quite manage to say anything. Off they go, and the effect of their conversation will be picked up by others shortly.

Leonato has a short conversation with his brother, Antonio, who informs him that the prince is in love with Hero, and intends to woo her at the dance. It’s exciting news, but this time Leonato restrains himself, and decides to wait and see what happens. He’ll warn Hero though, just in case. Next we see Don John, the sulky one, brooding intently round the back of the set. Conrad, one of his servants, tries to advise him to be more sociable, as he’s only recently been reconciled to his brother, but Don John is determined to be himself, and sulk as much as he wants to. This makes him sound like a stubborn teenager, but Andrew Woodall played him with some gravitas, making me wonder if he was just suffering from depression. Borachio arrives, with the news about the wooing, and this time, it’s the correct version, that the prince intends to woo Hero on behalf of Claudio. The prospect of throwing a very large spanner in the works cheers up Don John enormously – he almost smiled – and off they go to cause mischief. It’s always nice to know where you stand with the villains.

The dance scene begins with the ladies, Leonato and Antonio sitting in the seats at the side of the floor; the other men haven’t yet arrived. Beatrice’s comments on the unsuitability of any man to be her husband are entertaining enough, and her comments about men with no beards are funnier because her uncle, Antonio, is clean-shaven. The bickering continues between different couples as the dancing gets underway, and eventually the set rotates us round to where Beatrice had just been told something about herself by a masked man. Who can it be? The nose of his mask is extraordinarily long, yet the form seems familiar. Zounds, it’s Benedick, but did Beatrice spot him? I should think so, despite her obvious delight in knocking back the wine. Benedick comes off second best, again, and his reactions are clear, despite the disguise.

Now Don John does his evil work with Claudio, deliberately mistaking him for Benedick. Frankly, this is absurd, given their respective shapes, but we mustn’t let that get in the way of an enjoyable bit of theatre. And in any case, Claudio’s sulk doesn’t last long, as eventually Don Pedro tells him that Hero is won. Before that, we and the prince get to hear Benedick ranting at great length about how terrible Beatrice is. Honestly, to listen to him go on and on and on, anyone would think he’s besotted by her. Even though he asks the prince to send him away on some impossible mission as soon as she reappears with her relatives. Mind you, he does dash off almost immediately after that, so he’s clearly still upset at his verbal pasting from Beatrice.

She, on the other hand, has brought Claudio along to be given the good news about Hero, and rightly divines what’s upsetting him. It’s noticeable how little Claudio has to say at this point – everyone on stage notices, never mind the audience. With the RSC production last year I was reminded that actually Hero and Claudio have probably not spoken at all; here it was just a reflection of Claudio’s youth and inexperience. He reminded me of Romeo – all passion and flowery romantic words, but no real understanding of relationships, nor any real trust in Hero, as it turns out. It’s often a concern as to why she’s willing to take him back after his treatment of her, but this production handles that very well. Later. (It’s at this time that Beatrice lets her hand stray too far, and ends up having to deflect the proposal from Don Pedro.)

His first attempt at upsetting everyone having lost its momentum, Don John now picks up Borachio’s offer to delude the prince and Claudio and derail the marriage altogether. It’s not altogether clear why Borachio is doing this. I assume it’s because he supports Don John in mischief. The RSC had Borachio being the only man who actually woos Hero, and who wanted to stop this marriage to give himself a chance again, but here it’s not specified. I also realised for the first time that we never actually see this discovery scene. It’s so well described that I feel I must have seen it, yet it’s only in the words. This makes me realise how important some of these apparently trivial scenes can be.

Now for the water feature. The sunken pool on the terrace comes into its own. Benedick sends one of the household maids to fetch his book, rather than a boy. He then has one of the best soliloquies in Shakespeare – I love the way he disdains marriage, then spends ages spelling out his ideal woman. When the prince, Claudio and Leonato arrive, the slatted walls serve for cover, and Benedick nips behind one, taking his chair with him. At one point, the folding chair decides to fold up, and we have one of those lovely moments when the people on stage have to ignore an obvious giveaway, just so they can carry on with their entrapment. They include the music in this production, and it’s quite enjoyable, though I’ve never figured out why Balthazar is going on about what a bad singer he is. Anyway, it’s pleasant enough, and then the three conspirators get down to business.

This is one of the best scenes in Shakespeare’s comedies, and these actors got full measure out of it. Leonato has tremendous difficulty remembering what to say, unlike the two soldiers, who’re obviously used to practical jokes. Benedick’s reactions are marvellously funny; in fact it’s difficult to know which way to look during this scene. They helped out by having Benedick move around a lot, eventually lurking behind the chair he’d draped his jacket over at the start. I did like they way he sidled up to the thin pillar of the pergola and tried to hide behind it – Wile E. Coyote might have managed it, but cuddly Simon…..

They staged this scene so that the prince and his cohorts wend their way to the back of the stage, only to return for their final lines. Benedick, meanwhile, has come onto the main part of the stage, and begins his lines (I think). When they return, he’s trapped, and ends up diving into the pool to hide – massive splash. This was funny enough, but then, after a long pause, while the others are busy trying not to crack up completely, the top of Benedick’s head appears over the side of the pool. The expression in Simon Russell Beale’s eyes was hilarious. And the idea that the others couldn’t see him was farcical (good farcical, that is). After the others leave, Benedick stays in the pool for a bit, thinking through what he’s just heard, and leaning on the side of the pool as if he were at a spa. When Beatrice comes on to call him in for dinner, he’s out of the pool, and stands there, dripping wet. After her tart summons is over, there’s the wonderful line “‘Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner ,’ there’s a double meaning in that.” Benedick’s euphoria as he grasps this fictitious straw of hope is side-splitting.

And, just so we don’t get bored, the next eavesdropping scene follows on immediately. Will knew when to report a scene, and when to show us it in full. This time it’s Hero and Ursula setting the trap, and sending Margaret off to lure Beatrice into it. This time, the set has been on the turn, and so Beatrice is able to hide better than Benedick. Again, she reacts well to the two women’s chat, even putting her hands through the slats to try and strangle Ursula after some pointed comment. She also thinks about hiding behind a pergola pole at one point, but finds a better opportunity to overhear them. One of the maids is mopping up after the last big splash, and Beatrice borrows her hat, mop and bucket. In their talk, Hero and Ursula have lost sight of Beatrice, and look around for her, eventually spotting the lady herself, despite the amazing disguise. Ursula signals to the “maid” to carry on cleaning up, and when she accidentally knocks her bucket into the pool, indicates she should get it out. This Beatrice attempts to do without giving herself away, and the inevitable happens – another splash! This was even funnier, though we knew it was coming. Hero and Ursula are soon off the stage, and Beatrice heaves herself out pretty quickly – these dresses soak up a lot of water – and heads off to dry herself.

By now, Benedick has not only dried himself, he’s had a shave as well, and the prince, Claudio and Leonato discover him round the other side of the stage. He tries to hide his face, but they soon discover what’s going on and let rip with their jests. Benedick manages to get away with Leonato to discuss a matter of some importance, leaving the coast clear for Don John to plant more evil seeds in men’s minds. And now the interval.

The second half opened with Dogberry and the watch. Dogberry has always been a problem for me. His mangling of the language has rarely come across well, and there’s often a problem with the reactions of the watch members. If they don’t spot that Dogberry’s talking rubbish, it reduces the humour for me. It works much better when Dogberry’s talking to the gentry, although then there’s a risk of patronising attitudes spoiling the fun. All in all, he’s one of the trickier clowns. Here we have Mark Addy taking him on, and he did a respectable job with it. Verges, played by Trevor Peacock, plays an old doddery man, who lines up behind Dogberry whenever they have to bow, leading to an unfortunate alignment of head and bum. Not the worst watch I’ve seen, by any means, and they catch the villains Conrad and Borachio well enough.

Margaret is helping Hero dress for her wedding, and when Beatrice comes on with a stinker of a cold, Margaret ends up being the lively one. Beatrice evidently didn’t get dry quick enough after her swim. Dogberry turns up just as Leonato is putting the finishing touches to his outfit, and so gets sent off to do the interrogation himself. His lines were funny, and his taking of the wine, including a bottle or two for later, was entertaining.

The church scene is a pivotal one, and this staging brought out the ups and downs very well. First, there’s the lovely entrance of the bride, and the groom’s party. It’s all very solemn and full of expectation. Then there’s the shocking accusations against Hero, and everything’s thrown into confusion. Leonato is enraged against his daughter (silly old fool, too keen on the prince, that’s his problem), Hero is amazed, Beatrice is appalled, the prince’s company, except Benedick, are cold, and the friar keeps his cool remarkably well. There are a number of meddling friars in Shakespeare’s works – this one gets away with it. After the prince’s departure, and after Leonato has been calmed down (no easy task), there’s a quieter phase when Beatrice and Benedick get a chance to talk. I was very aware that there’s no time to reflect on the situation during the manic part of the scene, and it’s lovely to have this section when we can really feel the emotions that have been stirred up. I usually relate best to Beatrice’s grief and anger, probably because they’re the main emotions on show, and I feel it’s important to register what a huge disruption this event has caused to everyone. Benedick manages to express his love for Beatrice now she’s no longer sniping at him, and he sounded a bit surprised at saying it, or perhaps he was just surprised how easily it popped out. For all the context and content, it’s lovely to see the two of them talking as human to human, and learning to work together.

Now Dogberry confronts the villains, and confounds them with his incisive wit, his sharp interrogation techniques…. You’re not believing this, are you? OK, it’s the usual scene, with Dogberry most insistent he be “writ down an ass”. His indignation was lovely to see.

Next Leonato and his brother meet up with the prince and Claudio, and nearly come to blows. Antonio even heads off to fetch his massive broadsword, bigger than himself, and waves it around dangerously. The danger is more that he’ll accidentally hit something than that he’ll actually fight with it, and it was nicely humorous. They soon get it off him, and then Benedick arrives with the serious challenge. The change in his manner is noticeable. He delivers the challenge sincerely, and with enough temper to suggest he really does know what he’s doing with a sword. Just when the prince and Claudio thought things couldn’t get any worse, Dogberry and his watch arrive with the prisoners, and all is revealed. Leonato also turns up, with his brother, and after telling Claudio what he has to do to untarnish Hero’s memory (they think she’s died), suggests that Claudio marry his brother’s daughter instead, “almost the copy of my child that’s dead”. Pity he didn’t warn his brother about this – he nearly spoils the plan by his reactions.

As they all leave, and the set rotates, we see Margaret has been listening in, at least to the last part of this scene, and so realises that Borachio has been arrested, and that she’s probably played a part in getting Hero falsely accused. She’s quick to recover her wits, though, as Benedick asks her to fetch Beatrice to him. He ruminates about love, letting us know he’s not very good at poetry, and then when Beatrice comes they have one of their usual sparring matches, though without the bitterness that was present before.

For the tomb scene, Claudio actually lies on the tomb (hints of necrophilia there, I feel), and as he’s singing his hymn, we see Hero being brought on to watch by her father, from behind the partition. She takes a good long look at Claudio, and then nods to her father, indicating she’s willing to marry him. This was a good piece of staging, as it lets us see that she’s made her own choice, very important after what’s happened.

For the final scene, the ladies all enter with veils, and Claudio resigns himself to marrying some young woman, then has all the joy of finding Hero returned (yes, of course I cried). When Benedick asks the friar to add him and Beatrice to the wedding plans, he puts his hands over his face for a moment before coming out with the dreaded words “honourable marriage”. The poems turn up, and she grabs hers and eats it before he can read it, then reads his, giving a really evil cackle at his pathetic attempts at rhyme. It’s a lovely happy ending, and we applauded for a long time. For all its problems, this is a hugely enjoyable play, and this was one of the best productions I’ve seen of it.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

A Trip To Scarborough – January 2008

8/10

Variations on the original play by R B Sheridan (itself an adaptation of The Relapse by Vanburgh, itself an adaptation/sequel to a play by Colley Cibber) written and updated by Alan Ayckbourn

Directed by Alan Ayckbourn

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Monday 28th January 2008

And what a wonderful trip to Scarborough this was! The blending of the various time settings was pure Ayckbourn, and the “original” 1800 stuff sparkled like a jewel against the more modern scenes. All the long-windedness trimmed down to a few vital (in both senses of the word) scenes, and some comic set pieces by a modern master as well – what joy.

The two later time periods – 1942 and this year – are set in the Royal Hotel, Scarborough, and the action take places in the foyer. There are a couple of hotel servants, Gander and Pestle, who shift between times zones like experienced Time Lords, although they’re not required much in the 1800 scenes. The 1800 scenes are in a mixture of rooms, but as the present day hotel is hosting a fancy dress party, with 19th century period costume, this makes for some entertaining possibilities, and is obviously easier on the cast, as they don’t have to keep rushing backstage to get changed.

The 1800 scenes were a very trimmed down version of a play that has already been through various versions. They mainly occurred in the second half, although the start of the play showed us Hoyden sitting on the steps, holding a doll. Lord Foppington is due to marry Hoyden, the daughter of a Yorkshire gentleman, but his impecunious younger brother gets there first, pretends to be Lord Foppington, and gets the girl. To be fair, he did ask his brother for money first, and if he’d come through for him, then the risky marriage would have been off, but the Lord isn’t one for giving money away needlessly to his family, when he could give it away needlessly to his tailor, wig-maker, etc. (Actually, they didn’t bother with wigs in this production – I suspect it would have been too much to do in the quick changes.)

This story is echoed in the modern scenes, where a valuable manuscript is being sold by the daughter of a wealthy local knight, Sir George Tunberry, without his knowledge, and the dealer, Lance Foppington, is having to fend off the attentions of another young dealer, John Townly, who’s threatening to spill the beans. There’s also a couple of young businessmen staying in the hotel. They’re supposed to be in Aberdeen, at a conference, but they’ve skived off to have some fun in Scarborough instead. One of them spends his time talking to his family on his mobile, pretending to be at the conference, while the other has been caught by his girlfriend having sex with her sister, and now his entire family are giving him earache about it.

In 1942, there’s a regular shindig going on off stage, as some of the pilots are drinking to celebrate a successful mission, except it turns out one of them has been grounded. There’s a mother and daughter also staying at the hotel – the mother has recently lost her husband, and the daughter’s husband is MIA. The main storyline for this period, though, is the mysterious wife swap that one of the guests has done, starting out with wife A, then bringing wife B back from the theatre, and finally reappearing with wife A again. What can this mean? Pestle and Gander are determined to find out, which they do, but sadly without persuading wife B she’s in danger.

All these stories were nicely interwoven, and it was remarkably easy to tell which period we were in. Lighting helped, and the costumes of course. There was a band for the party who gave us music throughout, appropriate to the time zone we were in, and joined in some of the dialogue. The best bits for me were the three airmen giving us their impression of the Andrews sisters (well worth the price of admission alone), Gander’s explanation for deciding to shout “corporal” at wife B (she’s too young to be a sergeant, too intelligent to be a private, and too good-looking to be an officer), and the final revelations in the original time zone, with Lord Foppington getting his comeuppance, and his brother getting a wife.

As usual, this was a good ensemble performance, but I did enjoy some parts a little more than others. I was interested to see Ben Lambert playing the various incarnations of John Townly; he was in French Without Tears last February, standing in at short notice for another actor, and did a very good job. He was fine here, allowing for the fact that his Scottish accent in the early stages was meant to be terrible. Richard Stacey as the penniless brother, the grounded Flight Lieutenant, and one of the modern businessmen, was amazing as the lead Andrews sister, and gave a good account of the 1800s stuff. They were all allowed to really mug up their asides to the audience, and they made full use of it. And Terence Booth, who also stepped in last year to help out in If I Were You, another Ayckbourn, gave us a fine pair of comedy villains in Lord Foppington and his degenerate descendant Lance Foppington, the crooked dealer, slipping in a cameo as Len “the spiv” Foppington just for good measure.

It’s hard to put any more detail to this now, as it all blends together so quickly in my mind. We would have seen this again at the Connaught if we’d had a free night, but as it is, we’re glad we’re saw it last night.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me