Tag Archives: Greg Doran

A Midsummer Night’s Dream – August 2008

10/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Gregory Doran

Venue: Courtyard Theatre

Date: Monday 18th August 2008

This may be based on the production Greg Doran did several years ago, but it seems so different now, and I suspect a lot of that is down to the brilliant stage that the Courtyard has become, as well as the extra experience Greg has mustered in the interim. The set has a mirror wall at the back, which reflects the action on stage wonderfully. I was aware a few times of seeing someone’s reflection, and I loved the images that conjured up. For instance, when Titania has her eyes anointed by Oberon, she’s spotlit, and there’s a lovely reflection of her in the distance. I saw this as showing the parallel universe idea – with the juice on her eyes, she’s about to enter another world where she’ll behave and experience life completely differently to normal. As that’s one of the themes of the play, it fitted in perfectly, and added to my enjoyment.

The rest of the set was magical as well. Light bulbs hung from the ceiling, and these  lit up to represent the fairy activity, as well as being lowered down to create a forest. There was a huge moon globe hanging back left, which was lit in lots of different ways, and apparently made a steady journey across to our right during the first half. It was so smoothly done that I just didn’t notice it at all, until it was already there. We found out later that they had hoped to bring it back during the second half, but the flying fairies got in the way.

The play itself started with Hippolyta and Theseus having a sword fight in Greek masks and armour – she wins – and they both seem very happy. Servants come on, and they change into modern gear before the group of contentious folk arrive. As the concerns of Egeus, Hermia, Demetrius, etc. are aired, Hippolyta is very unhappy to hear about how Athenian law regards women’s rights in marriage. She brushes Theseus away with a sweeping hand gesture or two, and storms off before his “Come my Hippolyta”.

Lysander’s gifts to Hermia are gone through in detail, ending up on the floor, along with the trinket box Hermia had been keeping them in. Lysander is casual, almost scruffy, Demetrius is prim and uptight. Hermia is a girly girl, well used to bossing men around – she snaps her fingers for Lysander to pick up her box of trinkets – but she has a temper, and they all know that when Helena calls her a dwarf, there’ll be trouble. Helena is a bit of a drip to begin with – specs and a baggy cardie – but maybe that’s the depression.

The mechanicals were very good. They brought on a burger stand and a portable tailor’s cubicle. Unlike Flute, the tailor is really keen to play a woman, and starts selecting cloth as soon as he gets the part. Bottom roars at some women in the audience, to demonstrate just how scary a lion can be, and really does scare them, but they get over it, just as he, eventually, gets over his sulk at not being allowed to play the lion.

Puck emerges from a pile of bin bags, with hairy legs – goat presumably – and hoof-like boots. He often stamps them for effect. The fairies use dolls, and the Indian boy is still a puppet. Titania and Oberon are really not getting on – he’s a bit fierce. Her speech which we heard earlier in the day, came across very clearly, and her arms were certainly moving. I reckoned Oberon is moved by Helena’s speech partly because it’s the kind of devotion he’d like from Titania. Puck has to stop Lysander waking up too soon, and falling for him!

For the first encounter with Hermia and Lysander, the fairies get involved, steal their luggage, and then bring back their clothes on hangers to cause some confusion. They react to what’s being said, agreeing with Helena that she’s ugly (how unkind, and untrue), and repeating some words while prompting some others. They wake up Hermia when Lysander’s gone, and they really rounded out these scenes, so much so that I found myself missing them later on when it was just Oberon and Puck.

Titania going to bed with her fairies singing their song was quite nice, but the silhouettes behind the mirror wall were excellent. We see the fairies she’s sent off to do various tasks, and then a big shadow looms up, and the fairies are scared. They run off, and this huge shadow of Oberon appears to lean over Titania and put the flower drug on her eyes. It’s wonderfully menacing.

The first half finishes with Bottom getting his new head – it’s a big one – and the others running off. Bottom’s attempts at singing were hilarious. He has to overcome a tendency to bray, then he starts dancing along with himself, and he’s trying his best to do all the moves – the DJ shuffle, etc. Titania wakes up, and she’s all over him in no time. The fairies seem to enjoy Bottom’s jokes – they laughed more than we did.

The second half starts with Snug being chased by the fairies, who steal his paper, and then Quince appears, trying to get away with his bike. The fairies pull that to pieces, and the bits chase him off the stage. Wall is also chased off by a paper man, flying through the air at him, and presumably made out of the paper stolen from Snug.

Oberon wants to know if Puck’s done his job, and Puck reports back on Titania’s new obsession. Oberon runs at him, and I wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he’s really pleased with the result. Puck then tells him he’s sorted out the other matter, but unfortunately for him, the outcome of that blunder is about to turn up.

When the lovers turn up we get all the permutations; Will really goes for broke here with all sorts of declarations of passion and rejection. I would have liked more reaction during this scene from Puck – he tells us he loves this stuff, but he’s looking really miserable while he’s watching it. I noticed that Helena was wavering between enjoying the attention of the men and hating them for treating her so badly. At one point, Lysander and Demetrius slide across the floor to be near her while she chides Hermia for her behaviour, so different from their earlier friendship.

When it came to putting the lovers to sleep at front of stage, Puck had got fed up with how long Lysander kept chatting after he’d lain down, and was doing the hand chattering bit. The fairy porters nearly put Hermia in the wrong place. They’ve had to pick her up as she was too tired to make it on her own (mainly because they kept pulling her back), but Puck has to stop them, and as they reverse to get her in the right place, fairy Health and Safety kicks in and they do the beeping sound.

Then Oberon releases Titania from her enchantment, and here he emerges from behind the trolley that Bottom is sleeping in, which Puck wheels to the back of the stage when he takes the ass’s head off. Theseus and Hippolyta arrive, and when she tells her story of the Spartan hounds, he tries to butt in, but she keeps on. He finally gets a word in edgeways, and tries to show off with his boast that his hounds are bred of the Spartan kind. She’s not impressed. The lovers are really unsure of themselves when they wake up. Hermia isn’t sure if Lysander loves her again, while Helena is convinced it’s all been for nothing, and that Demetrius still doesn’t love her. Her realisation when he does declare his love for her was lovely to see, as was Hermia’s happiness at getting Lysander back.

Bottom recovers well, and takes a long time deciding on the title for his poem, for both parts. This speech got more laughs than usual. His gestures made it clear what he thought he had!

The other mechanicals are clearly depressed, and it’s not helped by Flute going on and on about how they would have got sixpence a day if they’d been able to do their play. Bottom turns up, and after failing to give them any information on his recent experiences, tells them to get ready to perform. Flute is too nervous to contain himself, hence the comment about clean linen.

The couples arrive, Theseus and Hippolyta first. There are more reactions from the youngsters this time to Philostrate’s descriptions of the potential offerings. Lysander in particular seemed keen to see the tipsy bacchanals, but despite Philostrate’s total dissing of Pyramus and Thisbe, Theseus goes for it.

The prologue was nervous, and then ‘truth’ arrives on stage to prepare the audience by telling them the whole story. As he names each one, the characters appear on stage, and as it’s only a small space, it soon gets crowded. Wall is taking up a fair bit of room, and Thisbe gets crushed against the post, still grinning. Lion can hardly find a way through. ‘Truth’ manages a respectable somersault during his stint. Various characters appear and head off again as this stage audience haven’t got the hang of shutting up!

Wall hasn’t got a convenient chink, so we’re treated to his nether regions, clad in red Y-fronts. Thisbe’s remarks about ‘I kiss your stones’ were directed at those items, while ‘I kiss the wall’s hole’ was similarly accurate.

Moonshine was treated badly by the on-stage audience, but we stuck up for him -‘ah’, we all said. The lion had memorised his lines remarkably well, for someone who had only a small strip of paper to study up to that point. (He showed it to Bottom earlier when the latter was devising a great long speech for him to say.)

Thisbe didn’t want to let go of her scarf, so it had to be passed through the curtain, and then changed for the red one, to show the blood. Pyramus’ death scene went on for ages, and was very funny. He even came back to life so he could stagger back to the stage. He’d been lured off it by Hippolyta’s expression of pity – probably developed a taste for posh bird – but he ended up back on stage. Thisbe’s death scene wasn’t as moving as some have done it – it was shaping up that way, despite Flute not even attempting a female voice, but the he/she put an emphasis on his eyes being a  green as leeks, and the laugh kept us away from the emotions. The other actors did peer around the curtains, and that got a laugh as well. Earlier, the whole stage had moved over when the Duke and gents got up to collect champagne, and Wall was a trifle exposed for a moment.

The final dance included the nobility, and then Puck enters through the curtains to start the fairy song. It was a great performance, and much enjoyed by everyone, to judge by the response. I’m looking forward to seeing it again, at least once.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Coriolanus – March 2007

7/10

By: William Shakespeare

Directed by: Greg Doran

Venue: RST

Date: Wednesday 28th March 2007

This is the last production, and performance, we’ll be seeing in this version of the main house – ever! I felt quite sad at the end, although given that the seat I was in tonight wasn’t at the best angle for my back, I’m sure I’ll appreciate the improvements when they come. Still, we’ve had many a happy hour in this theatre, and I’m looking forward to a backstage tour on Friday.

Coriolanus is a fascinating play. It’s not done very often, though Steve says he’s always surprised by this – each production we’ve seen has shown it’s a very interesting piece. There’s so much to it that I’d be up all night if I tried to report everything I saw tonight, so here’s the gist.

First off, I recognised so much in this production that echoed other Roman and Greek productions in this Complete Works Festival. I don’t know if this was deliberate, or just the natural effect of seeing so many Shakespeare plays together – all the common threads are highlighted. The Titus Andronicus was represented by the steps leading up to the stage, the Julius Caesar by the opening scene of plebeians causing a rumpus, the Troilus and Cressida by the angled wall, and the Antony and Cleopatra by smeared paint across the columns and the wall. Quite an achievement (or quite a coincidence, depending).

The set featured the steps at the front, a wall which could move down towards the front and which had a window high up on the right giving a view of the Volscian flag, and large doors on the left and right. It also angled to form a sloping roof. There was a series of square arches going off into the distance – these were raised and lowered as required, and formed the opening set. For some scenes, all these items disappeared, and we had a bare stage – very effective during Volumnia’s pleading scene.

The costumes used red for Romans and grey for Volscians. It’s a common technique, and does at least distinguish the two sides effectively, but like any colour coding, it can look a bit naff when it’s overdone. The style was a kind of Elizabethan version of Roman, with pleated skirts for the Roman soldiers, and bog standard olde worlde rough clothes for the workers. The pleated skirts had an extra frill at the top, which frankly looked absurd, especially on the Tribunes. However, the women had decent costumes, and the performances largely rose above such mundane matters.

The performance I liked best was Janet Suzman as Volumnia. She portrayed all her authority and total commitment to Roman patrician values (state before family) without making her a blinkered battleaxe. This Volumnia obviously knew exactly what price her son would have to pay in letting Rome off the hook, and her dignified grief on her return to Rome was very moving. At the same time, her enthusiasm for sending her son off to war at an early age so that he could earn honour is still appalling – if fewer women took that attitude today the world might be a bit safer.

Timothy West as Menenius was as good as I’ve seen in the part. I followed all his long-winded speeches this time, and although I think there’s more humour to be got out of his mistaken beliefs in the second half (that Coriolanus will listen to him, then that he won’t listen to the women), I really got the sense of Menenius’ laid-back authority with the people.

Coriolanus was played by William Houston, whom we’ve seen before as Sejanus, and as Roman General in Believe What you Will. Is this a trend? I find his physical behaviours tend to be repetitive, even mannered. He has a stance which he adopts at every opportunity, wide-legged, elbows bent, and hands clasped, and while he may deliver the lines well enough, I find this monotonous position rather distracting. (It wasn’t helped tonight by the pleated skirt.) However, this was a good performance, and showed more versatility than I’d seen before, so there’s hope yet. I was particularly impressed with his appearance at Aufidius’ feast, and his delayed emotional response to Volumnia’s pleading. What also came across very clearly is that Coriolanus is haughty, but not vain; he doesn’t seek glory or riches for himself, it’s all done for the good of Rome. However, he’s a warrior through and through, and doesn’t see why the common folk who don’t fight for Rome should have a say in how the city is run, and that includes voicing their approval of him as consul. His outspokenness gets him into trouble time and again, and while I can respect and admire his skills as a warrior, they cannot compensate for his lack of social and political skills.

Aufidius is another important part, and this time I found the performance somewhat crude. This actor has a tendency to wide-eyed declamation, possibly with some nostril-flares creeping in as well. This, coupled with some stiffness in movement made the part less interesting for me this time, although the dialogue all came across pretty well, and his changing motivations were clearly, if a little crudely, expressed.

The Tribunes were also a bit weak, I felt. It may be a bit unfair to compare them to the excellent performances we saw with the touring production a few years back (Tom Mannion and Geoffrey Freshwater), but I couldn’t help noticing the lack of detail in these roles this time. Other supporting actors were very good. I liked the servants at Aufidius’ feast, and the plebeians worked very well in this production – it was a good strong start to the play.

Other points I noticed: the turning point in Menenius’ persuasion of the plebeians at the start seems to be his opportunity to ridicule the chief troublemaker by likening him to a big toe. Once that chap’s lost his authority, Menenius has no opposition to his point of view. This fits very well with my understanding of Roman society, where rhetoric was more important than facts, even in court cases. The turning point for Coriolanus, listening to Volumnia, is her threat that he will be remembered shamefully, not as a hero. The fickleness of the people is a theme shared with Julius Caesar, and jealousy and envy have plenty of work to do, along with pride. The constant dilemma is this – the mass of people want leaders, but don’t want to be held to a discipline. Bugger. So heroes come and heroes go, each one discarded when they threaten the masses’ comfort zone, or are no longer required, or when the war crimes tribunal is sitting. I have no idea how this will ever be resolved, so Coriolanus should be doing good business for many centuries to come.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Venus And Adonis – March 2007

8/10

By: WIlliam Shakespeare

Directed by: Greg Doran

Company: Little Angel/RSC

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Saturday 17th March 2007

This was a wonderful hour of poetry and motion, with music. Towards the back of the Swan stage was a smallish puppet theatre, about four feet high and maybe seven feet across. (Sorry, 1.3 metres and 2.2 metres respectively.) In front of it stood a bench, and to either side a chair. The guitarist sat to our left, and Harriet Walter, as narrator, sat on the right. With some classical guitar music, we were off, and Harriet spoke the intro to Venus and Adonis, the dedication to the Earl of Southampton.

As I’d been watching the guitarist, I was surprised to look back and see Will Shakespeare had popped up from behind the bench, and was sitting to one side, penning the introduction. Behind him, the curtains of the puppet stage opened, and the Earl was revealed. I didn’t quite follow why Queen Elizabeth then came on and spent some time with the young Earl – I’ll have to look up the poem when I get home.

Then the poem itself started with Venus arriving on stage in a conch shell carriage, pulled by two doves – a lovely picture. Meantime, Adonis arrives on his horse. He’s a pretty boy (Adonis, that is, although the horse wasn’t bad either), but with absolutely no manners. Venus fancies him on sight, pulls him off his horse (and sends the animal packing), and Adonis doesn’t even want to kiss her! She pleads, she cajoles, she strokes and kisses various parts of his anatomy, all without raising his interest. Finally, she swoons, and, worried that she’s dead, he approaches her to check for signs of life. Apparently this involves kissing her, just to see if she’ll wake up (I don’t remember this technique when I did first aid!). He has a couple of goes to find somewhere to rest his hand (Not the breast! Not the crotch!), he plants a serious smacker on her lips, and she miraculously revives. Following some fairly passionate clinching, which had Adonis adjusting his garments afterwards, he runs off, the churl, leaving Venus sad and lonely.

Next day, he’s out again, planning to hunt boar, and refusing to listen to Venus’ warnings about how dangerous it is. Sure enough, the boar gets him, and Venus is upset, and curses love, and it all ends unhappily. Great fun.

That’s the basic story, but there’s more detail, and this is one production where the detail is everything. The puppets are fantastic. Venus is so soft-looking and voluptuous, it’s hard to imagine any red-blooded man not falling for her. She’s full of little touches – literally, as she can hardly keep her hands off Adonis for most of the poem. She walks so beautifully, each foot lifting and stepping so delicately. When she and Adonis do kiss, her feet lift off the ground one after the other, then her legs float up, then his legs float up, then they’re floating together in mid-air (so much easier with puppets than with real actors), then that cunning love-goddess has swivelled round so they’re lying together in mid-air, then it gets a bit pornographic (kept the audience awake, though). At one point, when she’s lying down, suffering the pangs of unrequited love, she still manages to pull her skirt up to show a substantial bit of leg. Her dance with the hands of death towards the end was good, too, as she leapt from hand to hand so gracefully, expressing her happiness when she thinks Adonis is alive after all. She was worked so well and so expressively that I could easily imagine her face changing to display the emotions.

Adonis is an articulated lump of wood by comparison, which is fine, because that’s what he’s meant to be. Solid, unimaginative, makes me wonder what Venus saw in him. He’s only interested in hunting, and doesn’t care for gurls. Funnily enough, he’s going hunting clad only in a skimpy off-the-shoulder very short tunic.  I suspect he’s actually well aware of his looks, and has set out to flaunt as much of his body as he can. A real pussy tease. Well, he gets his comeuppance, poor lad. When he runs off, he goes right across the stage and out of one of the side exits; a lovely mover.

His horse is good-looking, too, and he knows it. The poem describes him in some detail, and for this part, Harriet moves over to the bench where the stallion is posing, to point out the bits she’s talking about. He’s happy to oblige, but he’s even more interested in a serious bit of equine totty that shows up and flirts with him. She’s the reason he runs off and leaves Adonis stranded in the woods with a randy goddess. As Venus points out, his horse knows how to have a good time with a lady. At one point I thought they might go so far as to have the horses mating on stage – they’re in the right positions, and she does lift her tail – but there’s no coitus, interruptus or otherwise, on show.

The boar is an excellent piece of work, really menacing and LARGE! It comes on after Venus has heard the hounds howling and suspects that it’s curtains for Adonis. Meantime, she’s busy hiding herself as the boar enters, and looks around for someone to gore. His tusks are red, his bristles are big, and he’s a well-muscled killing machine. He checks out various parts of the stage, and there was nearly a nasty moment when he spotted the guitar player, and thinks about giving him a good mauling. But fortunately he heads off, leaving Venus to find Adonis’ dead body.

The other main character is death. And this was done very cleverly. The surround for the puppet stage included some moulding, which came away to form two very long arms with big, claw-like hands. At the centre top of the frame was a round device, which I’d spotted earlier, but couldn’t make out what it was. At this point, it transformed into a skull. Venus spends some time chiding death for taking away her beloved, fending his hands off, and getting really cross. Then when she hears the huntsmen, she assumes all is well, and apologises for her behaviour – this is when she has her little dance with the hands of death. It was quite impressive seeing these big hands float around without getting caught up in anything.

Nearly forgot the hare! When Venus is trying to persuade Adonis to hunt anything rather than the boar, she talks about the hare, and we get to see one – standing up, crouched down, loping round the stage. Beautifully done. And there was also a deer at the beginning, that leapt across ahead of Adonis, and puppet silhouettes that ran across the back of the stage – hounds, deer, and boar.

The narration was also excellent. Harriet Walter did a great job of reading out the poem, fitting it beautifully to the puppet’s actions. The puppeteers also added some noises and comments from time to time, and it all worked very well together. I particularly liked one occasion when one of the puppets looked at Harriet, not sure what to do, and she responded with a shrug. The music fitted in so well, I was often unaware of it, but I did enjoy what I heard.

It was such a complete experience that it’s hard to convey it in words. Little movements by the puppeteers gave such amazing performances from the puppets. Venus raising her head when Adonis is checking her vitals, for example, and Adonis holding his hands over his crotch after their romp, then pulling his tunic back into place. And Venus settling herself down to sleep, cradling her head on her arm. Lots of lovely moments, coming thick and fast, while the narration gives us the story. A great way to spend an hour.

© 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

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

The Rape Of Lucrece – September 2006

Experience: 7/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Gregory Doran

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Sunday 10th September 2006

Now for rape, suicide, and the end of a monarchy. This was an excellent reading of the poem, suitably edited to keep the running time down. Again, it was so warm I was finding it hard to concentrate at times, but the performances were very effective, especially when Jane Lapotaire was taking us through Lucrece’s sufferings – despite being raped, that woman had the stamina and the vocabulary to outlast Patience! We just got the edited highlights, thankfully.

Basic plot. Tarquin’s son rapes Lucrece, after a (relatively) short pause to consider the merits or otherwise of his actions. No contest – lust wins again. She’s in despair, and lets us know all about it, railing against time, opportunity, her husband, etc. before considering a painting of the Trojan War (as you do). She has the wit to send for her husband, and meeting him on her return, appears to have run out of words. After briefly explaining that the King’s son has raped her (serious editing here), she stabs herself, under the horrible delusion that somehow she’s damaged goods and the stain on her character cannot be removed. Personally, I prefer the version of red Riding Hood where the little girl, on encountering a grandma with long snout, long ears and big teeth, takes a gun out of her basket and shoots the wolf (James Thurber, I think). Woman power. Then we have Lucrece’s father and husband wrangling over whose loss is the greater (shades of Laertes and Hamlet). Will no one call an ambulance? (OK, the poet thinks she’s dead, but what does he know? A good doctor, a fully equipped ER, and she might recover!) Fortunately Brutus (ancestor of the Caesar-slayer) is on hand to knock some sense into them. So, off they go to overthrow the political structure of Rome. Yes, it is a bit of a jump, but if you know your Roman history, it makes perfect sense (thank you Mr Parks, my second year Latin teacher).

Several curtain calls (what do you call these when there’s no curtain?), which often seems to take actors by surprise. Did they think we’d gone home? Snuck out while they weren’t looking, or were they too engrossed in their part to notice? I suppose this isn’t a promising subject for rapturous applause, but then you’re not likely to get much passing trade at this sort of thing – only your hard-core Shakespeare fans, desperate to catch a glimpse of this rarely sighted beast.

One final point – the actors had been standing for so long, they actually found it difficult to take their bow; perhaps that explains the response to the applause – they couldn’t wait to get off the stage!

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Antony and Cleopatra – May 2006

6/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Gregory Doran

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Saturday 20th May 2006

There are so many ideas in this play – and in my head. Shakespeare has written a love play/tragedy within a political play within a Roman historical play. Phew. And he probably knocked it off in a rainy afternoon down the pub!

This was a very good production of a very difficult play. I usually find it hard to engage with the main characters, for while I’ve experienced passion a-plenty in my life, I’m not aware of having neglected anything important to dally with my beloved. So I find it hard to feel sympathy for Antony, who has quite clearly lost all perspective in his infatuation with Cleopatra. Perhaps I would find it easier to understand if I could look at her and think “I wouldn’t mind a bit of that!”, but so far I haven’t found any of them that attractive (and at least one was, frankly, repulsive). Lack of maturity or experience on my part, I’m sure.

Octavius Caesar is usually portrayed as a cold fish, and is equally hard to like; to be fair, this production gives him a bit more passion, but also a tendency to shake – possibly intended as a reference to Julius Caesar’s epilepsy, though as Octavius was his adopted son, and not genetically linked as far as I know, it simply proves a bit of a distraction. [Oops. Since discovered he was, in fact, Julius’ great nephew.]

This doesn’t leave many of the main characters to be fond of. Fortunately, this production is replete with excellent performances in the lesser parts. I’ve usually liked Enobarbus – when you’re hacked off with the main characters, it’s always helpful to have a cynic handy who can put the boot in on your behalf. Ken Bones did a fine job, though I would have liked his character to be more prominent (were lines cut?), and for his death scene to have had more impact.

The roles of messenger and fig delivery man (or ‘clown’, as the cast sheet so prosaically puts it) were little jewels of comedy acting. The messenger was so reluctant to return to Cleopatra after his first drubbing that Charmian had to push him on stage, and the look of relief on his face when he finally got away unscathed got the biggest laugh of the evening (and this was one of the funniest Antony and Cleopatras I’ve seen!). The asp pedlar was suitably obtuse about Cleopatra’s intention towards “the worm”, and following a gasp from Cleo as she peeks inside the basket, returns several times to warn her to be careful. It was a lovely performance, beautifully topped off by the knitted red woollen cone he wore on his head.

Menas was particularly well played this time. He is Pompey’s follower who suggests bumping off all Pompey’s rivals at the feast they’re having to celebrate their new-found friendship. This character came across as more rounded, with more of a part to play in events than I’ve seen before. Also Pompey deserves an honourable mention, playing the part on crutches, presumably because of an injury. This must have made things difficult, but he still got the part across well.

One thing all these parts had in common was that I could usually make out what they were saying, even if I couldn’t always understand it. Sad to say, I found the volume of much of the early dialogue to low to hear. Given that this late play has some of the most complex language to unravel, I would have preferred greater clarity and projection. I kept feeling there was something I was missing – some underlying context or idea that would allow me to make sense of the whole play, if only I could grasp it, but every idea that came to me fell by the wayside when compared with the massively detailed and richly textured play before us.

I considered the possibility of veiled references to the Elizabethan/Jacobean political and religious situation – Octavius as Elizabeth, Antony as Mary, with Lepidus possibly representing Edward VI. Again, there was theme of boring, dutiful Protestantism stifling and overcoming beautiful, flamboyant (and older) Catholicism. But the play contains much, much more than this. I even looked at the possibility of Antony and Cleopatra representing Adam and Eve, falling from grace through ignoring their spiritual duty. As God, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit were not to be mentioned or portrayed directly on stage at that time, it’s not such a far-fetched idea, but it still falls far short of explaining the wealth of other material in the play.

Betrayal stands out strongly as the most common theme – more so than love, passion or honour. Antony has betrayed Rome’s needs to pursue his relationship with Cleopatra, she betrays him at Actium and appears to betray him in sending conciliatory messages to Caesar, Antony betrays Fulvia and Octavia as well as Octavius, and everyone else changes sides faster than rats deserting a sinking ship.

Yet throughout all this, there is still that sense of an underlying love affair between these two people. Like an ageing Romeo and Juliet, there are many forces pushing them apart, but they cling to their need for one another like drowning people. The political situation that brings them together, the experience, power and lust for life that they share, make them ideal lovers but also make their passion doomed.

And so to the main performances. Antony was a grizzled veteran, calculating, especially in relation to his wives, and politically shrewd, but I was never sure what was pulling him back to Rome at all. There seemed to be no reason to leave Cleopatra. And although he was full of manly swagger, I didn’t sense the charisma that Antony could exert, along with his military prowess, to inspire loyalty from his men (which also undercut the emotional charge of Enobarbus’ death). The character reminded me of an older George Best – great in his day, but now sinking into serious has-been territory, largely due to his own actions. There were lots of nice touches, especially the political manoeuvring with Octavius, showing up the younger man by wrong-footing him, all smiles until he gets what he wants, then abruptly away.

Cleopatra was graceful and beautiful, but too intelligent and determined for my liking. This Cleopatra was a good match for Antony, and together they would have been more likely to conquer the world themselves than to lapse into abject failure. She wasn’t fey enough, not decadent enough. Harriet Walter conveyed both the deep grief and the lighter moments well, for example the tantrums with the messenger, but I didn’t feel enough sense of abandon, of wantonness and wilfulness in the character. This Cleopatra was just too much of a thinker.

The staging was excellent. The bare Swan stage was relatively uncluttered. Various chairs, cushions, throws, etc were brought in as required. There wasn’t much use of the different levels or the balconies that I can recall. The main joy was the back wall, or rather a glass panel in front of the back wall which had been semi-plastered, as if a couple of indifferent craftsmen had started the job, and then buggered off down the pub for the rest of the day. The loose patches of plaster were lit so differently, that the whole stage was transformed – now green, now blue, now misty, now purple. It also gave the effect of a rough map, suggesting a mix of sea and land, as well as the idea of new building and decaying ruins. With all these aspects neatly portrayed in one bold yet simple statement, this has to be the best set design of the season so far, and one that will stay with me for a long time.

[Steve saw the production again when it transferred to London, and considered that it had improved a lot. Both Patrick Stewart and Harriet Walter seemed more comfortable in their roles, Pompey had got over his injury, and the whole performance had picked up a notch.]

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me