Tag Archives: Complete Works

Henry VI part 2 – February 2007

8/10

By: William Shakespeare

Directed by: Michael Boyd

Venue: Courtyard Theatre

Date: Saturday 10th February 2007

At the end of the previous play, we had seen Margaret’s picture presented to the King – basically, the actress herself standing in a large picture frame, wheeled on to the stage. This framing device was used several times throughout the series, sometimes lowered down from above. As this play starts, Margaret arrives in person, to be presented to the King by Suffolk, who has married her in France as the King’s stand-in (and carried through with the nuptials?). All is well, until Gloucester, as regent, reads the marriage contract, and discovers that the bulk of the English holdings in France are to be given to Margaret’s father, while she herself comes without a dowry. As Henry takes his new bride off to be crowned, the leading nobles thoughtfully remain on stage so we can eavesdrop on their discussion.

They’re not happy bunnies, not one of them. The only slightly positive prospect is that they might unite against this foolishness of the king, but no, they still bicker and fight amongst themselves, with the naughty Cardinal seeing this as an opportunity to oust Gloucester, and the regent being concerned about England’s wealth and prosperity. Others take sides, and Richard, Duke of York is already planning to take the crown he believes he deserves. I see trouble ahead. The scene was well played, and got across the deepening divides in English government circles. (And you think Tony vs. Gordon is bad!)

Next we see the Duchess of Gloucester, a prototype for Lady Macbeth, trying to seduce her husband into bidding for the crown himself. It’s all glossed over as being a dream, but we can see she’s an ambitious lady, and when her husband leaves to join the king, she arranges a session with occult practitioners, to get more information on her glorious destiny (Maureen Beattie can play an obsessed woman to perfection). Unfortunately, the chap who’s organising all this is in the pay of the Cardinal and Suffolk – more plotting and machinations. He’s also played by Jonathan Slinger, as he’s not yet got going as Richard, so we know he’s up to no good as soon as we see him. He’s pumping up her fantasies, as if they needed it, helping her rise to a greater fall.

The political divisions are reinforced with the following scene, where several petitioners are looking for the Lord Protector to give him their petitions, and are intercepted by the Queen and her “close” supporter, Suffolk. Their petitions to the Lord Protector wind the Queen up terribly – she wants to be the wife of a powerful king, and resents the airs and graces which the Duchess of Gloucester has been putting on. The battleground is set, and now we’re going to watch several hours of it all unfolding.

Bickering and dissension flare up even more in the English court, and Henry, poor benighted soul, manages to make the worst possible decision, by selecting two sworn enemies to act as regent in France. Gloucester shows his wit and wisdom during a hunting scene, by shrewdly making a chap who’s pretending to have been cured of blindness expose himself as a liar.  Unfortunately, the trap has already closed around his wife, and her disgrace leads to his inevitable dismissal as Lord Protector.  The wolves gather.

Richard, Duke of York (Richard III’s daddy), explains his claim to the throne to Salisbury and Warwick, using stones to demonstrate the bloodlines from Edward III. His reasoning is clear, if a trifle long-winded and both men agree to support him in his claim. Meanwhile Gloucester, now unprotected, is brought down by the scheming court, and France is lost to the English crown. What more could possibly go wrong?

Well, Ireland rebels, and York is sent off to deal with it. Gloucester is bumped off, and Warwick and Suffolk square up to each other, Warwick accusing Suffolk of the deed (accurately), and Suffolk brazening it out. However, the commons make a temporary impact on the play, by demanding that Suffolk be executed or banished immediately for Gloucester’s death, so the King banishes him. His final scene with Margaret is almost touching, given that they’re a pair of villains. Oh, and the Cardinal also dies, and Suffolk is killed by some sailors when trying to go abroad, as revenge for Duke Humphrey’s death. So with several of the troublemakers now dead, will things be more peaceful? Not a chance.

To keep the country unsettled, the Duke of York has arranged for Jack Cade to lead a revolt of the common people, claiming that he’s the rightful heir. He’s soon defeated, but not before giving us a potentially entertaining look at what the country would be like if the less well educated were running the show. They even get someone up from the audience, and take them off to be executed! (But they came back again, whew.) On the Duke’s return, demanding that Somerset be thrown into the tower as a traitor, the real quarrel breaks the surface, and York announces his claim to the throne. Civil war has begun. The play ends with the first battle, a Yorkist win, but more is to come.

One aspect of the staging that I particularly liked was the recycling of the dead bodies, and there are plenty of those in this play. Gloucester, the Cardinal, Suffolk and the rest, all reappear during the play, especially during the Jack Cade sequence, as ghostly versions of themselves, and as participants in the action. It’s noticeable that the Duke of Gloucester and the Cardinal have got over their spat since their deaths – it’s nice to see them working together for a change. It was also interesting to see how this gave a very strong sense of the killings all being linked, and of the death toll mounting up and building even higher. And in many ways it reduced the confusion there can sometimes be in these plays, as actors are reused in different parts. Instead of having to stop and think who’s playing what part, I found I could just relax and go with it. Plus you have to get those dead bodies off stage somehow, so why not under their own steam? They’re also helped by a kind of Death figure, played by Antony Bunsee, who opens the doors at the back for them as they leave for the other world.

Another theme that worked its way through the whole set was bones and stones. York uses stones to show his claim, and bones appear several times during the plays – the conjuring scene, a scene with Joan of Arc, etc. I wasn’t sure what this meant, but with such a long time span to cover, I feel it helps to bind the plays together. Also, there’s a lot of prophecy in these plays, which can seem a bit redundant in some ways. After all, Shakespeare’s audience knew their recent-ish history pretty well, I assume, so they’re not going to be surprised at the twists and turns. I suspect this is a way of reassuring the audience, of letting us know that we’re in safe hands – a kind of “Next week, on Henry VI” trail of forthcoming attractions. Perhaps he’s also being a bit tongue-in-cheek, knowing full well his audience knows the story, and also knowing that several characters take the prophecies the wrong way.

While I found the political machinations much clearer this time, I still found the sheer number of characters confusing. Many are scarcely introduced to us before they’re deeply involved in the action, so that it’s hard to keep track of who’s who, apart from the major players. Perhaps Will was getting a bit carried away with having a large, talented ensemble to work with? We may never know.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Henry VI part 1 – February 2007

6/10

By: WIlliam Shakespeare

Directed by: Michael Boyd

Venue: Courtyard Theatre

Date: Friday 9th February 2007

I’d forgotten so much about these plays, and this production, that I felt I was watching these for the first time tonight, until I recognised some of the things that I hadn’t enjoyed so much first time round. Firstly, the music. I liked it most of the time, but occasionally it continued to drone on over and behind the dialogue, making it harder to hear what was going on. The smoke machine was fully warmed up by the end of the evening as well, as everything from wisps of mist to full-on fog rolled out of various apertures throughout the performance. I remember being practically choked by the fog at the start of Richard III many years ago – fortunately, this wasn’t so bad.

I also recognised many of the actors who performed tonight, including Keith Bartlett as Talbot, who presumably remembered a lot of his lines from playing the part last time round. Jonathan Slinger, who’s playing Richard III later in the cycle, was preparing us for that role with a bit of limp and the suggestion of a shoulder, as he played the Bastard of Orleans – an unfortunate name, I always feel. Clive Wood, as Richard, Duke of York, also hinted as his son’s deformity during the scene with Joan of Arc, by adopting the crookback and grimacing – both nice touches. I shall watch for more hints during the next two plays, when Richard of Gloucester makes his appearance.

The set we saw during the Two Gents production (many moons ago now) was indeed the Henrys set – very industrial looking, with a large spiral staircase encased in a metal tube centrally placed towards the back of the stage. It allowed for a balcony, and the two big doors at the bottom were regularly thrown open and clanged shut to set scenes for us. One staging that was repeated through this play, and, I suspect, the others, was to have a phalanx of people standing in the doorway, with lights behind throwing them into silhouette, giving an impression of a mass of people. They entered slowly, demonstrating the power of the particular group, and in the case of Henry VI’s coronation in France, this emphasised the bitter discord amongst the English nobility, as the group breaks apart suddenly and descends instantly into vicious bickering. Poor Henry, young as he is, does all he can to broker a peace deal, but only ends up making things worse. Firstly, he picks one of the faction’s symbols to try to encourage both sides to overlook their differences – a tricky manoeuvre at the best of times – and then he expects two enemies to work together to further England’s interests in France, without staying to keep an eye on things himself. It’s an excellent portrayal of how a weak ruler can make problems worse rather than better. Reminds me of last night’s King of Hearts, where the Prime Minister understood the need to have a hated right-hand woman, someone who could get tough on dissenting voices within his own party – Henry could have done with one of those.

The Joan of Arc storyline is always a little disappointing from my point of view, but I can understand why Shakespeare wrote it as he did, especially given the nature of the religious troubles at the time. He couldn’t very well have portrayed a French Catholic heroine in his plays – the public, and very probably the Lord Chamberlain, might not have appreciated it. Still, I do find it difficult to accept this version of her story, and tonight that was made worse by the warfare element. I accept that this is exactly what Shakespeare’s writing about, but perhaps our recent and current involvement in war is making me less willing to enjoy representations of the “glory” of war on stage. Talbot is an heroic character, true, and does represent many good virtues – loyalty, unselfish service to his King and country, heroism in battle, etc. – but it’s hard at the moment to be enthralled by battle stories, winning or losing.

The political element is much easier to take, although I was finding it hard to hear the lines tonight – one of the problems of a large thrust stage with so many characters milling about. Geoffrey Freshwater is playing a wonderfully villainous Bishop/Cardinal, whose feud with the Lord Protector will, I fear, end in tears for all concerned. The Lord Protector may be less at fault, but he’s not very effective at controlling the malicious cleric. In fact, he’s not much cop at controlling anything. He sets up a perfectly good match for the King, only to have it overturned once Suffolk seduces Henry with his descriptions of Margaret, daughter of the King of Naples and Suffolk‘s intended mistress. Margaret, doubled with Joan, is a saucy temptress. Looking like a 40s vamp, she’ll be more than a match for most of these men.

I liked the three women who played Joan’s “fiends”. They wore simple red dresses, and emitted strange, low humming sounds, with some crooning noises, which were disturbing and beautiful at the same time. They also joined in the fighting, lining up behind Joan and following her movements as she fenced with first the King and then Talbot, indicating the extra strength she received from them. They also assisted in “persuading” the Duke of Burgundy to re-enlist with the French forces.

There was copious use of ladders, trap doors, and a lowered platform to create different spaces. Sometimes I feel this goes too far, and distracts from the performances. For example, when Talbot’s men swing in from the sides of the gallery, they pair up, hanging over the middle of the stage, and to keep them together, one attaches his line to the other’s, so they can point their weapons. It looks really clumsy. Then, to release themselves, they have to unclip the lines and swing back again – all fine from a health and safety point of view, but not much cop from a dramatic perspective.

Chuk Iwuji was good as Henry, all youth and innocence, coupled with good intentions. I enjoyed seeing John Mackay again. He played Sir Andrew Aguecheek in the last Twelfth Night, and made him both comic and sympathetic. Here he’s the Dauphin, and it’s clear this Dauphin is anything but in charge in France. Much like Henry in England, in fact – they’re well matched in a strange way.

Our seats were fine, and very comfortable – which is just as well, as we’re in the same ones for all four productions! Roll on the rest of the cycle.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Henry V – February 2007

6/10

By: William Shakespeare

Directed by: Pippo Delbono

Company: Compagnia Pippo Delbono

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Thursday 1st February 2007

This lasted for only an hour and five minutes – the projected time was an hour and a half, so we were back in our room good and early – hooray! On with my notes.

My first laugh came when I looked at the cast list, and saw:

“Henry V                                     Pippo Delbono

Friend of the King                   Pepe Robledo

The French                                Gustavo Giacosa”!

I’ve heard of doubling, but this is ridiculous! Anyway, I had a good laugh about that, which left me in an appreciative frame of mind for this production. I realised it was going to be a mish-mash, songs, dance, some of the text perhaps, conveying the feeling of the piece rather than a production of the actual play, so I was prepared to sit through anything at all for the hour and a half. Actually, I quite enjoyed it, till near the end.

We started in total darkness, with some of the actors clumping around quite loudly, on the stage and round the back and sides. Finally, we got a little light, but only on the surtitle screens, as Henry (though we don’t know it’s him at the time) starts accusing various people of high treason. At each accusation, we hear a wheelchair clattering onto the stage, and position itself at the back. When the lights come up, we see three men sitting in a row at the back of the stage, and Henry is sitting? standing? near the front, using a microphone. He calls forward one of the men, who stands up, and moves to the middle of the stage. This was Gustavo Giacosa – he was very tall and extremely thin, with most of his ribs showing, and at his execution, he folded gracefully to the floor.

With the three men off the stage, another man, Pepe Robledo comes on, naked to the waist, with a bucket, and begins to scrub the floor. He informs Henry that Falstaff is dead, and goes through Mistress Quickly’s lines about his death. Henry is just lying at the front of the stage during this.

I don’t remember the order of everything else, but this is most of what happened. Someone brings on a tall plinth, about waist-high for most people, and Gustavo comes on, wrapped up in a long coat and with a muffler, and using the most amazing flexibility of his legs, puts first one foot on the plinth, then steps right up onto it. It was amazing, and got a good laugh from the audience – reminiscent of John Cleese and the Ministry of Funny Walks. Other actors formed a double line either side of the stage, and Gustav calls out “The King, the King” several times. Henry comes on, fairly diffident at this time, and gradually growing in confidence. Gustav leaves the plinth, and the other actors also leave the stage, as Henry starts shouting “I want France”. The way he said it was very funny. Then we saw the Dauphin, elegantly dressed, sitting on a chair, talking about tennis balls – all colours of balls. After this, the rest of the male ensemble danced their way onto the stage, some hand-in-hand, and formed up behind him. He was laughing a lot, and waving his long limbs around. This became the paean of praise for his horse, and for once, we actually get to see the fantastic horse walking onto the stage (an actor wearing an elaborate horse’s head headdress), opening its fan and standing on the chair to sing a lovely song to the enthralled ensemble. Very talented, this horse.

When in France, and around the “Once more unto the breach” speech, we see the ensemble, finishing with Gustav, assemble themselves into an emotionally moving sculpture to the rear of the stage. The first actor places himself very carefully, lying along the floor, and the others place themselves so they can lean gently on him, and in this way they build up a mound of human bodies. This obviously represents the many dead, on both sides, as a result of the war. There’s also a lot of holding hands over faces, and especially eyes, as the number of dead makes its impact. Later, another symbol of death occurs when the ensemble enter in a line, and start to lay themselves on the stage from the front to the back, lying on their backs, to the sound of Henry reading out the list of the dead. Once done, Henry takes the opportunity to leap around a bit over their bodies and do his peculiar little dance routine, which I still have no explanation for.

And it was around this time that I started to lose interest in the piece. One major symbol of death was fine, but this went on so long it started to become overstated. Fortunately, there wasn’t much to go. Pepe came on, minus an arm and a leg, using a big metal pole as a crutch, and thumping it into the ground very emphatically. He then starts crying out “The war is won”, and seems to be grinning from ear to ear, although in this situation, it’s a little difficult to tell if he’s smiling or crying. He does look at Henry, and the two of them exchange looks of satisfaction, but then Pepe moves back, and the tone changes – he seems to be grieving. Then the actors rose from their places, congregating towards the back of the stage, and after a few more lines from Henry, he and Pepe move to join them and the lights go out. That’s all folks. They take their bows, making the most of it before they go off. A number of people seemed to have really liked it, but I have heard louder applause in the Swan.

Other points include the horse coming on to grieve over the dead body of the Dauphin – I think this happens before the mass grave demonstration towards the end. There was a lot of music used during the production – possibly taped – songs of various kinds, and often played at the limit of endurance, even with a little distortion to the sound at times. The whole production had a balletic quality; they used movement and semi-dance a lot, and the whole piece looked choreographed. The performances were mainly external – based on movement rather than internal emotions and thoughts.

Overall, I got some ideas from it, and I did enjoy some of the humour. The cast, particularly the two leads, seemed to be very good at engaging with their audience to tell their story, and it was easy to get involved right away. I wouldn’t go out of my way to see this kind of theatre again, but I wouldn’t completely avoid it either. We both agreed it was a good job we’d booked to see Merry Wives The Musical again this trip, as we might have felt a bit cheated at only getting an hour and a bit of performance out of a trip to Stratford.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Merry Wives The Musical – January 2007 (2)

10/10

By: William Shakespeare, adapted by Gregory Doran, music by Paul Englishby, lyrics by Ranjit Bolt

Directed by: Gregory Doran

Venue: RST

Date: Saturday 31st January 2007

This was the last time of seeing this musical this time round, and one of the last times we’ll see a play in the main house as it is. Boo hoo. Although, as we were in the Gods, and the seats were neither as comfortable nor gave us as good a view as what we’re used to, the regret isn’t too strong – we’ll manage.

This was not just as good as before, it was even better. Firstly, we knew what to expect – we’d seen such a great performance at the Winter School. Secondly, we had a completely different view, and although we lost some of the detail, especially seeing the expressions, on the other hand we got a much better overview of the action, which helped enormously when there was a lot of action on stage – the final fairy scene, for example, was much clearer, and I suspect it was more due to our position than any change in performance, though of course I can’t be absolutely sure.

Thirdly, knowing this was our last time, and that we’re getting towards the end of the Complete Works Festival, and the end of the main house as we know it, made it all a bit more emotional. I noticed some changes in the performances – as if the cast have relaxed even more into their parts, and with relatively few performances left, are going even further with the business. There was more detail with Mistress Page and the first letter, and I noticed a number of other “upgrades” as we went through, though none I can remember for these notes, sadly – maybe they’ll come back to me later. One point I must note down tonight – the houses rotating into haystacks – I’m not sure if I noted that down before.

Our seats were quite uncomfortable in the first half – less room and less cushioned than downstairs. However, the couple next to us moved for the second half, so we were able to spread ourselves out and it was much easier to relax and enjoy the show. I still think they need to introduce the “Merry Wives” tune in the overture – it’s the main theme, and the one everyone’s going to come out singing or humming to themselves.

The audience seemed quite quiet for the first half – I wasn’t sure if we just weren’t hearing them so well up with the Gods, but they livened up for the second half, so maybe it just took time for them to get warmed up.

I’m still impressed by how well all the characters are introduced. It’s a complicated play, with lots of sub-plots, and although the priest and doctor never get round to exacting their revenge on the landlord of the Garter, everything seems much more straightforward in this version. I like the way Anne Page and Fenton are introduced to us in the traditional way of musical lovers, so we know they’re going to get together at the end. And the introduction of Henry IV dialogue in places makes the Mistress Quickly/Falstaff storyline work much better. So, apart from the quibble about introducing the main theme earlier, I find the whole adaptation pretty brilliant, and I do hope they revive it sometime soon – perhaps when they have the new main house?

One final point – I must remember to have a hanky ready if I see this again – I was sobbing heartily during Ford’s song asking forgiveness from his wife. Lovely.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Merry Wives The Musical – January 2007 (1)

Experience: 10/10

By William Shakespeare, adapted by Gregory Doran, music by Paul Englishby, lyrics by Ranjit Bolt

Directed by Gregory Doran

Venue: RST

Date: Friday 5th January 2007

Another big change. This time, the cast seem to have got to grips with the production and given it a good shaking out. Everything gelled tonight. I could hear more of the words, the music fitted with the dialogue better, and the weaker singing voices had strengthened up. I thoroughly enjoyed the first half, and although the energy drops a little in the last quarter, I still found the whole experience much better than first time around. In fact, the musical aspects had improved so much that the “Merry Wives” song no longer seems the highlight that it was!

Specific changes to performances: Slender had developed even more in small touches, including kissing Mr Page when they meet for the first time. Alistair McGowan as Ford seems to be getting more expression into his performance, and his voice has definitely come on. His song to Mrs Page asking for forgiveness was very moving tonight, and I was reminded of The Taming of the Shrew in reverse. We had been warned that Judi Dench did something different every night when coming on at the back of the stage, but tonight was the same as we’d seen before – reacting to the size of the buildings with surprise and confusion.

Our seats were to the right of centre this time, across the aisle, and I actually preferred this, as I found I could see the whole of the stage in one glance, which is absolutely vital in a production where so much goes on. I spotted a lot more detail, although I still missed Dr Cauis’ performance between injecting himself in the neck and falling into the buck basket – if we get to see it again, I must look out for that. I saw so much that I hadn’t before, but I can’t be sure what was new and what I simply missed, so I’ll just include it all in the first set of notes.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Pericles – January 2007

Experience: 3/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Dominic Cooke

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Thursday 4th January 2007

What a difference from our previous experience! These seats were central, but they were in the back row of the upper gallery, and our view of the action in the first half was severely limited. Fortunately, having seen it before, we could at least fill in some of the details for ourselves, and the modern pentathlon was still mostly visible. But had we been sitting here when we first came, we probably wouldn’t have rated this production, and might not have wanted to see it again. This layout seems to be creating serious problems for the audience, or not, depending on your position.

I still enjoyed the second half, however, as most of the action takes place in the middle. In fact, we probably had a better view of the scene where Marina and Pericles meet. I was certainly very moved by all that section, through to the rediscovery of Thaisa. Shame about the first half.

I thought one piece of action was new. When Lysimachus, the governor of Mitylene enters the bawdy house, he “chested” Boult a few times. Neither Steve nor I remember this from the first performance we saw. I was unsure whether some of Gower’s gestures had changed – perhaps we were just seeing them more clearly than before. Otherwise, it seemed much the same, and I found myself wondering whether the changing nature of the promenaders made it less likely the actors’ performances themselves would develop so much over the run.

With the talk from this afternoon still fresh in my mind, I was more aware of the introduction of Marina. I knew they were using the same actress to play both Antiochus’ daughter and Pericles’ daughter, echoing the abandonment and actual/potential incest, although again I felt the risk of incest between Marina and Pericles was non-existent in this production. I was watching when the actress came on to represent Marina, still a baby, and to do her crying for her, and I got a sense of the spirit of Antiochus’ daughter returning to haunt Pericles. Do right by this one to clear your debt to me, sort of thing. I wondered how those who didn’t know the play took this staging, and whether it confused them. I also found myself wondering how close the coast of Ephesus was to Tarsus, and whether Thaisa’s coffin could have realistically floated there in the time. Get a grip woman, it’s only a play, and a fantasy play at that!

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Winter’s Tale – January 2007

8/10

By: William Shakespeare

Directed by: Dominic Cooke

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Wednesday 3rd January 2007

I enjoyed this performance much more than the previous time. We were sitting across from our first seats, and a gallery higher, which gave us a very different perspective. Having just had our own New Year celebration, I felt more in tune with the opening scene, and I was able to get into the swing, helping with the countdown, etc. Although I missed some of the scene, as it was played out right underneath us, I did catch up on the parts that Time had been blocking before, so overall I was more engaged from the start. I suspect it was partly due to our familiarity with the layout, partly because we were in a better position (and a complementary position to our earlier experience), and some credit also has to go to Robert Smallwood, who gave us Winter Scholars a superb lecture on the play, which he considers his favourite, if not indeed Shakespeare’s best. Based on his lachrymose experiences, I must admit to having a touch of the Smallwoods tonight, several times.

I was only aware of one difference in the staging from last time. As far as I could tell, the music that played over the opening scene was here restricted to just one part of the scene, which helped enormously. I could be remembering it wrongly, of course – it’s amazing what even a few short weeks can do to my memory. Other than that, the staging was as before, but this time I was aware of much more, and could see a lot that I’d missed first time round.

I was well aware how angry I felt at Leontes when he arraigned his wife when she’d hardly recovered from giving birth – the bastard. I wanted to hiss and boo him, but there wasn’t really a good opportunity (not without getting myself evicted, anyway). I could also feel a desire to throw things down onto the actors innocently performing below – a strong temptation which I fortunately resisted (see eviction point above). The promenade layout meant there were far more restrictions on the view from the upper gallery than normal, but although my perch was a little precarious at times as I leaned this way and that to catch as much as I could of the performances, I still found myself caught up in the play as I hadn’t been before.

Autolycus was just the same, and still failed to impress me. He seemed quite dull and uninteresting, without much detail to the performance. Nudity is all very well (in his case, VERY well!), but it’s not enough for this part. After the talks today, I was more aware of whether certain lines had been cut – it appears both bits our speakers thought would be dropped or severely edited were included pretty fully – the sheep shearing computation, and the reporting of the reconciliation scene, which was done very well. At first we have a lone reporter putting some copy onto his tape recorder, then someone official-looking comes out with a microphone to report more details, then another chap, even more important, adds the final touches. I thought it worked very well, especially in the light of today’s press conferences and spin doctoring waffle.

I still found the “shelf” that doubles as Mamillius’ bedroom and Leontes’ study (or has he just installed himself in his dead son’s bedroom to appease his grief?) ludicrously small – Leontes must have a pocket kingdom if that’s how big the rooms in his palace are. I did spot what Mamillius is playing with at bedtime, though – he’s tossing up a cuddly black bear, just like the one that’s going to eat Antigonus! I saw more of that bear this time, too, as it came on opposite us, and I noticed how quickly the promenaders cleared out of its way when it chased the poor old man. Shame! If they’d ganged up on it, they might have saved him. (Not that I was planning on rushing down there to lend a hand.)

I was more aware of the various decorations hanging from the ceiling this time, both the New Year’s celebration streamers and the sheep shearing flags. With several Winter Scholars in the audience, that was a bit of a distraction too, as I checked out their reactions occasionally. Having said that, the time flew – I’ve no idea when it finished, and I only glanced at my watch once, which is unusual, even in a good production.

I liked the way Time used music to convey the passage of sixteen years – his radio played “Catch a Falling Star” before his speech, and afterwards it was “California Dreaming”. The sheep shearing celebrants were clearly hippies, and Autolycus more of a drug pusher, but that fitted with the set up, as did the rather spaced out chap who tried to join in the group dance without a partner.

A friend commented on the statue facing away from most of the audience, which is a fair point, and I still think this layout doesn’t really suit the Swan – perhaps a purpose-built auditorium with careful consideration given to sightlines might work OK, but not this mish-mash. However, it was still enjoyable, and I was very pleasantly surprised at how much I felt it had improved over the first viewing.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Pericles – December 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Dominic Cooke

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Thursday 14th December 2006

This was a very entertaining evening. I may have found it better than The Winter’s Tale because I was more used to the changes in the Swan, which has, after all, been my favouritest theatre in the world, but then again, this production used the space quite differently, and we were sitting across from our previous seats, and had a much better view of all the action. In fact we only really missed the wedding between Pericles and Thaisa. All the rest was either clearly visible, or, even better, right in front of us, on the sloping ramp.

The costumes were a mix of African traditional with natural geometric patterns and earthy colours, and modern. Cerimon was initially dressed like a hippy earth mother, and the suitors for Thaisa wore fetching outfits, all matched, of blue tops and tight white shorts. (Is it just me, or is it warm in here?) The starving folk in Tarsus were suffering a fashion breakdown, as all (except the king and queen, of course) were swathed in grubby cotton sacking. Overall, it was a wonderful combination of colours and styles which worked effectively to accentuate Pericles’ travels, the diversity of cultures he visits, and the dangers he faces – the opening sequence has guards toting automatic rifles forcing the peripatetic audience members into place to hear Pericles face Antiochus’ challenge.

That Antiochus is a right bastard. Not only does he seduce his daughter into an incestuous relationship, but he’s so determined to keep her, he’s willing to chop off the head of any young man who dares to sue for her hand. In theory, of course, the guy just has to decipher the riddle to gain her, but there’s no way Antiochus is going to let anyone live who figures out what he’s been up to with his daughter. So either way, they’re for the chop. I did like the way the man standing behind Pericles on the dais started sharpening his knife as soon as Pericles accepted the challenge.

Pericles’ trip home and thence to Tarsus went very smoothly. I liked the way Cleon, King of Tarsus, is worried at first that his country is being invaded. We could hear the sound of helicopters overhead, suggestive of both rescue and invasion. Despite the relief effort, at least one starving citizen didn’t make it.

Then Pericles is off again, and, wrecked at sea, is cast up on the shores of Pentapolis. I enjoyed this bit, when the sailors/fishermen find him, and then rescue his armour. The chap who found it was clearly none too happy that Pericles claimed it back, and in the end this staging didn’t make use of the shield, but I suppose that scene is showing Pericles’ luck and/or air of authority. It’s also when he finds out about the availability of Thaisa, the King’s daughter, and decides to become one of her suitors.

The competition among Thaisa’s suitors was the best I’ve seen. At first, the scene is set for Thaisa’s birthday celebration, and the suitors are shown, in the box, bringing her gifts (not in the text, this bit). There’s a couple of bags, one large, one small, a cuddly toy, and a box. When the flashiest one comes along, he seems to have nothing to give her, but at the last minute produces a conspicuous set of car keys – just showing off, if you ask me! Then Pericles arrives, the final suitor, with nothing more than a single rose. At this point, Thaisa doesn’t really pay him much attention – he’s more of a puzzle than anything else.

Next comes the competition, and instead of sword play, we’re treated to a modern pentathlon – shooting, fencing (alright, we got a bit of sword play), swimming, riding, and running. One contestant was dropped after each round. For the first event they lined up on one of the walkways, and shot across to the other. One of the contestants managed to fell a stray bird, feathers floating down to make the point, and Pericles had to borrow (or grab) the gun from the chap standing next to him, as he obviously didn’t have one of his own. Bird shooter was eliminated, and the rest went down to the ground level for the fencing. By the way, Nigel Cooke, dressed like a cook from what I could see, was running a book on the outcome – I know the RSC needs money for the redevelopment, but really! Anyway, with five competitors left, the first four paired up, and when one was beaten, Pericles stepped in to fight the winner. Needless to say, he gets through to the final, and also wins that. Our hero is doing well. Then it’s off to the box for the swimming. A blue sheet is held up, and wiggled about a bit, while the remaining suitors swim two lengths of the box. Another one out, and we’re down to three. On the walkway leading to the ramp, the three eliminatees are sitting with drums, and the three still in it come along in riding hats, and with whips, and sort of mount them (it’s not as bad as it sounds). Then they have a race, with pauses for the jumps, and the sound of the drumming for the hooves. A finishing post is trundled into view towards the end, so we know who’s won. Another one bites the dust, and then it’s just Pericles and the flash git in the final sprint, up the ramp just in front of us. Despite his chubby appearance, and being against a lean, tall, muscular sort of chap, Pericles actually manages to win this one as well – hooray! I was so caught up in the story-telling, that frankly, I didn’t mind this a bit – it was just good fun.

Following the events, there was some sulking as Simonides made a speech congratulating them all, and some clenched teeth were visible through the smiles. But it’s all still to play for, as the competition wasn’t to determine Thaisa’s husband, it was just a bit of fun, a way to pass the time. However, at the banquet later, Thaisa’s obviously very taken with the victorious stranger. She has an interesting relationship with her father, Simonides. They both clearly love each other, in a healthy way this time, but they will keep pretending the opposite of what they feel – in Simonides case, it’s often to test how his daughter really feels, and given the nature of their relationship, that’s quite understandable. In her case, it’s not so clear, unless she’s just picked up on Daddy’s way of doing things. Or perhaps she’s a bit shy of declaring her interest in Pericles outright. Anyway, she pretends indifference, and is secretly (if you can call it a secret when the whole audience knows) delighted when her father tells her to take a cup of wine to the champion of the games. Pericles is pretty taken with her, too, and they have a nice little dance sequence, with interesting suggestions of the two of them trying to blend their different cultures.

Simonides is also pretty keen on this match, because early the next morning, he sees off the other suitors, spinning a yarn about how his daughter wants a gap year before she marries. Off they go, some sobbing with disappointment, and leave the field clear for Pericles. Simonides has had a letter from his daughter expressing her feelings for the man, and he confronts Pericles with it, pretending to be angry. Pericles is thrown into confusion. The last time he was presented with a piece of paper was in Antioch, and he only just escaped with his life. He responds that he hasn’t done anything to encourage Thaisa, and she arrives to be confronted by her pseudo-angry father and …. well, it all ends happily, as Simonides can’t keep up the pretence for long, and before you know it, the happy couple are man and wife.

The audience participation included invitations to the wedding feast, which I thought was a nice touch – go to a play, join in the wedding breakfast. Gower, the narrator, informs us of time passing, and of Pericles receiving news that he has to return to Tyre or risk losing his crown, so without more ado they head off to sea, Thaisa much pregnant. A storm comes up, and here the people at the table start to sway and throw themselves about as if on a storm-tossed ship – a nice segue. Thaisa is helped to the box, and behind a curtain she produces her baby daughter, and then breathes her last …. or does she? Pericles is distraught, and it isn’t helped by the superstitious sailors wanting to chuck Thaisa’s body overboard asap. Fortunately, they have a fully water-proofed coffin standing by (they were obviously boy scouts or whatever the ancient equivalent was – always prepared), and so off she floats, with a covering letter explaining the situation and asking for whoever finds the coffin to put her in a proper grave. Pericles then instructs the sailors to head for Tarsus, as it’s apparently nearer, and he plans to leave his daughter there for Cleon and his wife to bring her up. Given the circumstances of her birth, he names her Marina. Cleon and his wife are only too happy to help, having a daughter of a similar age themselves (regular viewers of Will’s work will be suspicious on hearing this news).

One point to mention on the staging. At the time Thaisa is in the box giving birth, the same actress who played Antiochus’ daughter is spotlit, standing on the ramp to our right, watching the proceedings. I wasn’t sure what this meant at first – was this Antiochus’ daughter haunting Pericles, or taking on the shape of his daughter, or what? Actually, it was a neat bit of doubling, which would have been even more effective if the risk of incest in the later scenes had been brought out. As it was, it made me pay attention, and introduced Marina to us before the break, as she’s all growed up afterwards.

The two scenes with Cerimon are run together here. Thaisa’s waking is well done, as she gives a huge start and cries out. Her last memory is of the childbirth, and she’s understandably confused as to how she got where she is. The one thing I feel needs more explanation in the text is why Thaisa assumes so quickly that she won’t see her husband again. But then we wouldn’t get that lovely last scene, of course, so never mind. Thaisa decides to be a nun at the temple of Diana, for she has landed in Ephesus.

Now we’re following Marina’s story more than Pericles. Growing up to be a beauty, with many talents and a wonderful personality, Queen Dionyza naturally takes a scunner to her overshadowing her own daughter – we knew there’d be problems! After bumping off Lychorida, Marina’s nurse, Dionyza suborns some chap, apparently her lover in this version, to do the same to Marina. Possibly fortunately, some pirates arrive at the exact moment to prevent this murder, and steal her away. The would-be murderer reckons he can get away with his failure, as Marina’s not likely to be seen again in those parts, but hangs around in case they throw her back and he has to do the job after all.

We, however, are off to Mitylene and the bawdy house. Pole dancers do their thing on the ramps, while sailors and others mill around the market place. The music is modern, the lights are flashing – all painting a picture of modern-day sleaze and corruption. No redeeming features to this den of iniquity.

Business appears to be bad. The box is where the bawd and her minions hang out – all 50s style, with a lovely air of seediness. They’re down to their last three whores, and they’re past their shag-by dates. Boult is sent off to the market to find fresh meat, and brings back Marina – a virgin. Hooray! She’ll make their fortunes. Or will she? We see two sailors leave the place, vowing never to enter such a house again – what can be going on? Then we see a man in a grubby raincoat, looking every inch the perv, and pretending to be blind, approaching the door. He’s obviously well known to the occupants, as the bawd informs us “Here comes the Lord Lysimachus, disguised”. Turns out he’s the governor of the place, and when he throws off his covering, they’re all suitably impressed at the way he fooled them all. Hanging the grubby coat on the back of the door, he enquires if there’s any fun to be had, or some such, and they offer him Marina, probably a last-ditch effort to get her to co-operate. He takes on the task with relish, and after a bit of small talk, the others leave the two of them together.

Marina’s clearly not happy with what she’s being asked to do, and as he undresses, taking off his tie and then his trousers, he asks her about her past, how she came to this line of work and so on. Her replies rebut his assumption that she’s a prostitute; as the bawd knows only too well, she’s yet to have intimate contact with anyone! She keeps turning his words against him – when he points out that she’s in a house of prostitutes, she asks if, knowing this, he would come here? She reminds him of his honour, that he is, to all outward appearance, an honourable man, and he ends up giving her money. And then more money. Then he dresses again, and heads off, throwing the grubby coat into the corner – the sign that he’s given up on paying for sex completely. The bawd is at her wits’ end when she finds out. Boult offers to give Marina  her induction course, so they leave him to it, but she manages to persuade him that they’ll be better off using her talents – singing, weaving, sewing and dancing – to earn money honestly. She gives him the money the governor gave her, and he agrees to help her as best he can.

Meanwhile, Cleon has found out that Marina is dead, and who killed her. He’s rather upset, but his wife persuades him to go along with her plan to say Marina died of natural causes, and to mourn her as if they cared. When Pericles finds out his daughter is dead, he’s so grief-stricken, he goes on a seriously long Mediterranean cruise, refusing to leave his cabin, to shave, etc. Eventually he arrives at Mitylene, where the governor comes aboard to enquire after his health (plus carry out customs checks, probably), and finds a man suffering from serious depression. Naturally he thinks immediately of the amazing girl he met at the bawdy house, who has since been wowing Mitylene society with her beauty and wisdom. Fortunately, she happens to be close by, and soon arrives to help the poor unshaven man on the ship. This is such a moving scene, and I found myself sniffling quite a bit during it. At first, Pericles doesn’t want to see or speak with Marina, and he rejects her physically when she tries to touch him. When he does look at her, he’s reminded of his own dear queen, and it’s here that many productions insert some physical attraction for her that echoes the earlier incestuous relationship between Antiochus and his daughter. But re-reading the lines confirms what this production has done – there is no actual reference to, not even a hint of, Pericles having lustful thoughts towards his daughter. Naturally, he’s overcome with emotion as she tells her story, and of course, she doesn’t know who he is at this point. I think that’s one of the difficult things with this scene – clearly establishing who knows what about whom. Anyway, there’s a touching reconciliation. Then the governor shoves his oar in, as he was only holding back from proposing to Marina because she wasn’t of a high enough status, but now he can ply his suit, and is accepted.

When Pericles takes some rest – it’s all been a bit much for him – he sees a vision of Diana, here doubled with Thaisa, who tells him to go and give thanks at her temple in Ephesus. There, Diana’s statue is led on by a group of nuns, among them Thaisa, and after Pericles’ speech of thanks, she recognises him and faints. It all comes out then, the family are reunited, lots of sniffles all round, and Gower finishes off by telling us how all the baddies get their just desserts, and all the goodies are rewarded. A happy ending.

I loved this production, and was totally happy that we’d booked to see it again at the Winter School. All the performances were good, and the whole production had a liveliness and joy of the storytelling that made it a delight to watch, and to listen to. Joseph Mydell was exceptionally good as Gower, as was Richard Moore as Simonides. But the whole ensemble were excellent, and I left with my spirits high, looking forward to another performance. We won’t often see such a good production as this.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Winter’s Tale – December 2006

Experience: 6/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Dominic Cooke

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Thursday 14th December 2006

This production sees the Swan boarded over to create a promenade space, with the seating being in the galleries only. It reminded me of the Roundhouse production, and given how much the RSC has taken on this year with the complete works, doing many productions themselves, it wouldn’t be surprising if they decided to reuse several good productions of the recent past. After all, Michael Boyd has resuscitated his Henrys (seeing those in February).

There was a long, curved walkway spiralling down from the right gallery level to the ground by what would normally be the main entrance to the auditorium. All metal. There was a walkway across the left front of the gallery, the side we were sitting on this time. At the back, the balconies had been extended forward, to create a reasonable sized room for some of the scenes – Mamillius’s bedroom and  Leontes’ study. It was a bit small, though, and the actors had to keep out of each other’s way so characters could get in and out of the door. I know Leontes shuts himself away, but this is ridiculous! Otherwise, various pieces of furniture, platforms, etc., were brought on as needed.

At the start, there was an actor sitting on the walkway just to my right. He was dressed as a gardener and appeared to be working with a tray of seedlings. I had no idea who he was (he turned out to be Time, who delivers the introduction to the second half), but he blocked my view quite badly at the start, so that I lost much of the emotional aspects of the early stages, especially Leontes inciting Camillo to kill Polixinus. I also found I lost a lot of the dialogue – not sure how much was down to the more open nature of the performance space, and how much down to delivery. The more experienced actors were fine, on the whole, but some of the younger ones weren’t so punchy, and didn’t always inflect their speeches so well. There was music at the start which continued over the dialogue, and I found that got in the way a bit.

Autolycus was as scantily clad as I’ve seen in the Swan, excepting Tales from Ovid, but didn’t impress me (as a production choice, I mean). The sheep-shearing celebration seemed a bit tame – although the promenaders helped in terms of numbers, they were just standing around, and made the whole thing seem a bit dull. It was also a bit off-putting when it came to the more intimate scenes, such as Camillo advising Florizel and Perdita to flee to Sicilia. I still got emotional at the reunion scene.

All in all I felt the production didn’t suit the Swan space, the rearrangements made it difficult to see what was going on, and to hear clearly, and although it was a lively production with a lot of good performances (Nigel Cooke and Anton Lesser particularly) it just didn’t sparkle for me.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Merry Wives The Musical – December 2006

Experience: 6/10

By William Shakespeare, adapted by Gregory Doran. Music by Paul Englishby. Lyrics by Ranjit Bolt

Directed by Gregory Doran (does the man ever sleep?)

Venue: RST

Date: Wednesday 13th December 2006

This was great fun. I tried not to have too high expectations, but it was difficult. The cast was to drool over, Merry Wives can be such fun, and it has the added frisson that this is one of the last two productions we’ll see here before the main house closes for redevelopment. All in all, a mouth-watering, highly charged prospect.

This adaptation and production didn’t disappoint. There’s definitely room for improvement, but it’s off to a good start. We chose to see the winter plays now, and again as part of the Winter School, and we’re already looking forward to seeing this one again. I suspect it will come on for the extra three weeks or so.

The set was lovely. It’s definitely an Elizabethan setting, all gables and oak beams. There are two houses on either side of the stage at the beginning. Chez Page is to our left, while the one opposite may be the Ford’s, though that’s not clear. To make this stage Windsor look more populated, there are false perspective houses towards the back. I was thinking that the actors would have to be careful not to get too close to them, and then a few scenes later, Mistress Quickly (Judi Dench) came on from the back. She did a lovely double take over the size of the buildings compared to her – very entertaining. Just about every part of the set moved to create the other locations; the interior of Ford’s house, the tavern, and the forest. The forest was basically the remaining wooden uprights when the rest of the set had been taken away – a nice, simple way to evoke a wood. Costumes were by Elizabethan out of the 1950’s – an interesting mixture of doublet, hose, and billowing skirts with layered petticoats. It all looked gorgeous.

Performances – all very good. Some quibbles. Judi Dench didn’t entirely convince as Mistress Quickly – a bit too intelligent. But her performance was good, especially the interaction with the houses. Simon Callow as Falstaff was excellent. It’s hard to believe he hasn’t worked here before. He made a great deal of the Shakespearean lines especially, which brought out how entertaining his character can be to others. And his comments on other people’s use of the English language were quite reasonable, given his command of it. Alistair McGowan’s performance as Ford is shaping up very nicely. I would like to see him do more with Brooke, though. Given the range he’s capable of, I would prefer to see more differentiation of the two “characters”, and more of the jealous reaction to Falstaff’s stories. But maybe this wouldn’t fit in with the overall feel of the piece. Haydn Gwynne and Alexandra Gilbreath were fine as the two wives, and took full advantage of the operatic (and even melodramatic) aspects of their roles. Simon Trinder – best Slender I’ve seen, helped by an extra drinking song to open the second half. Paul Chahidi was OK as Dr Cauis – didn’t always get his mangling of English, though. Brendan O’Hea was the best Pistol I’ve seen. Dressed like Russell Brand on a bad hair day, his part came across clearly, and his wooing of Mistress Quickly (they pinched bits from Henry IV part 2 to pad out the story) was great fun.

The music and lyrics were fine, though again I didn’t get all of them. We bought the CD afterwards, so we’ll probably be listening to it a bit before the second viewing. The best songs were the second half opening (a drinking song, where Simon Trinder as Slender gets royally pissed) and the Merry Wives song -a  bit of a hoe-down, catchy tune, and good lyrics. They could do with using this song more in the piece, to pull it together.

I realised there can be problems mixing the musical format and Shakespeare’s language – different rhythms means it can be confusing at first to go from one to the other. Also, I enjoy the original so much, it was a wrench to miss out on some of the dialogue and have to put up with a song instead. Although they did it well, the first gulling of Falstaff lost a lot through being sung, for me. Also, it invites comparison of the writing skills – dangerous territory.

Couple of points to remember – individual eyeshades on Brooke’s sunglasses, and Falstaff and cronies arriving on a half-timbered motorbike. Roll on January.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me