Tag Archives: RSC

Timon Of Athens – October 2006

Experience: 6/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Adrian Jackson

Company: Cardboard Citizens

Venue: The Shakespeare Centre

Date: Thursday 26th October 2006

This was the best management seminar we’ve ever attended! Not that we actually expected to be attending a management seminar, but that’s the framework Cardboard Citizens were using to present this play, one of the many ‘difficult’ ones in the Shakespeare canon. Great performances, good production, interesting if messy staging.

It was held in the Shakespeare Centre, where we’ve been before for the Winter School. On arriving, we were given name tags, which included our occupation – I put housewife. We were also asked to put a coloured spot on our tags to show our rough annual income. I went for the yellow blob – one of the poorest in society – but there were plenty of other colours on display. (If I went again, I’d probably make up some fantastic career and opt for bags of money.)

The audience accumulated in the Woolfson Room, and a number of the actors mingled with us, introducing themselves, passing out business cards, and as it turned out, searching for a mole, an audience member who was to play a part in the performance. Then we had the ‘induction’. This was presented as a motivational training course to inspire us to change our lives. All the actors doing this part were in smart business suits, and there was a flipchart with some prepared sheets. We were first asked “Who is the most powerful person in this room?”, and most of the responses were shouted out by the actors, by the sound of it. They ended up with Will Shakespeare as the definitive answer – the greatest ever management guru. Various plays were put forward as examples. The two best I remember were “Comedy of Errors – an example of identity theft in the commercial environment”, and “Hamlet – prioritising your ‘to do’ list”. Brilliantly done, very tongue-in-cheek.

After this, there was some motivational haranguing, spliced together with clips from the play (Timon), and then we’re exhorted to change our lives – if you don’t like where you are, go somewhere else. This was our cue to move through into the Queen Elizabeth Hall for the main action of the play. Mind you, it took several increasingly direct nudges to get us to go. Anyone would have thought we were an unadventurous bunch. Unadventurous and slow!

Once seated (I’ll spare us the long trek in between), more motivational speakers took over while a second induction course was held, mainly for the press. The speakers caught the style very well, and managed to deliver potentially useful information as if they were talking complete bollocks. Or were they? There was enough ambiguity in the performance to keep me happy – they didn’t tell us what to think, just played it fairly straight and let us make up our own minds, but with enough detail so we could follow a number of different paths for ourselves. Well done. And the ‘play’ hadn’t even started yet!

Nor does it now. Next, we were introduced to Roger, the mole. He was “making a change” in his life – tonight he was about to act for the first time in a play, performing the role of Timon’s servant, Lucilius. (Of course I’m looking up all these names later – you don’t expect me to know them all, do you?) They did a little rehearsal, and Roger did just fine. Lucilius did even better, getting a tasty bride and loads of money to boot!

Then there was a pause while the newly inducted joined us. Actors were dotted around, doing exercises, breathing techniques, meditating, working on a laptop, etc.

Now for a description of the layout. Or, hopefully, a sketch of the layout. (Hope that scanner’s working…)

 

There were also a couple of tables at the back of the platform, and various artificial potted plants dotted around, not suspecting the fate that awaited them! (Always good to create a bit of suspense early on).

Once the press folk were all seated, we were treated to another question – what would we do if we didn’t get to see Timon of Athens, as we were expecting? Actually, the way the evening was going it wouldn’t have surprised me if the whole cast had just gathered on the stage and we’d had a long chat about life, the universe, and everything. But I digress.

After our expectations had been confronted, we were treated to a variety of actors coming forward to (presumably) talk about the play. I say presumably because most of them spoke in a foreign language. I found it all quite funny. I don’t know if I’ve adequately got across how much humour there was in all of this, and that set the scene for these actors to give us their talks, with various gestures and the odd English word popping up here and there. Also the sound effect of a dog barking. Somehow it all worked, and was really funny, in a nice way.

Well, that’s what happened before the play began – I may have missed some stuff, and put some things in the wrong order, but that’s how I remember it. Now for the actual play.

I won’t go through it in such detail, mainly because I can’t remember it so clearly. The play itself was interspersed with various actors telling us their experiences of being homeless – often very moving, and an interesting juxtaposition with Timon’s situation. We start with the two toadies bringing gifts to Timon, and see his generosity to Lucilius and others. He feasts his friends lavishly, and can even accommodate the philosopher Apemantus, who criticises Timon’s excesses. For the feast, some of the tables that form the front platform are moved slightly to become two dining tables, which allow for extra seating at dinner. The highlight of the meal is several large towers of Ferrero Roche chocolates, apparently real, judging by the number of wrappers being thrown around later – this is a very rubbish-strewn production.

All of Timon’s ‘friends’ praise him enthusiastically, and he responds by giving away even more of what he doesn’t have – we learn from his steward that Timon has racked up major debts, but he’s completely oblivious, and refuses to listen to his steward, the only character who really cares about him. The obvious parallel I could see with today’s world is the excessive debt so many in the UK are living with. At some point, these debts will have to be paid, but how? And it’s never clear how Timon comes by his money – another parallel with today, where the credit just seems to pour in from nowhere. The bankers funding Timon are shown here as City types, tapping away at their laptops while sending others out to collect what’s due.

Finally, Timon is down and out, unable to meet his creditors’ demands, but confident that his ‘friends’ will rally round. They give the usual range of excuses – sorry, but I’m a bit short myself just now, it’s not a good time to be lending money, and the outright winner – I’m so miffed that he didn’t come to me, his best friend,  first that I’ll not lend him anything! Even Timon has to admit defeat. But, being a man of extremes, he doesn’t just shrug philosophically and learn his lesson. Oh no, he has to go to the other extreme and start raging at all humanity.

First he has his servants invite all these false friends for another feast, only this time, the fare is a lot less pleasant. Bear in mind that Shakespeare has Timon offer his guests water and stones. Well, I hope they were faking it in this production, because when Timon says he’ll provide the food and drink, he means it, literally! All the product of his own body. I was suspicious when the carafes were filled with yellowish fluid, but the full horror became apparent when the lids are lifted off the plates, and ‘turds au naturel’ are presented to the understandably upset dinner guests. They’d probably been starving themselves all day so they could leech more effectively off Timon’s hospitality, so the nastiness of the proffered repast was suitably effective.

It’s at this point that one intriguing aspect of the staging came forward. There are actually three actors playing Timon. Bit unusual, but there we are. The main Timon was the one regular actor in the cast, and at this point, another actor takes over the part, really giving it his all in venting Timon’s rage. I wasn’t sure at first why they’d done it this way, but it may just have been to emphasise the different stages of Timon’s experience – all hunky-dory, rage, extreme cynicism. It seemed to work OK, and certainly kept me on my toes, though I wouldn’t recommend it as a regular feature.

We had a break now, quite a relief after all we’d been through. Meanwhile, the cast began to rearrange the set even more. Timon had been pretty stroppy before the interval, and various pieces of furniture had been thrown about a bit. The actors now made it worse. Much worse, including opening up a big hole in the front platform floor. Plants were flung over, rubbish was everywhere. This wilderness was Timon’s new home. And, appropriately enough, we had a new Timon to go with it. Timon 3 skulked about this debris, giving us the benefit of his revised view of humanity. He’s visited by various people, though this is a much trimmed down version from what I can remember. He finds gold again – is he the world’s luckiest man? – but does nothing with it, gives some away but that’s all. He has realised that gold can’t buy friendship, only hangers-on, but he despises everything so much, he’s not prepared to do any good with it either. Eventually he dies, and his epitaph is read out. End of play.

It’s during this second part that we see most of the actors’ stories. There’s also a sub-plot about Alcibiades, an Athenian captain, who seems to be more of a genuine friend to Timon. One of Alcibiades’ friends is to be executed for murder, and Alcibiades pleads for him to be shown mercy. The senate are not sympathetic, and his temper gets the better of him. Piqued, the senate banish him. He leaves, but returns and conquers Athens. Quite a sub-plot. And what does it have to do with Timon’s story, we wonder? Well, here it echoed the lack of gratitude shown by Timon’s beneficiaries. The man whom Alcibiades pleads for has done good service to Athens in its wars; he’s earned his pardon, as far as Alcibiades is concerned. The senate begrudge everything, and get their comeuppance. There’s also the contrast with Timon – Alcibiades has earned his reputation and whatever money he has, while Timon is praised, but we never learn for what. Was he a valiant soldier? Did he carry out some great feat, or render some service to Athens? We never find out, and it’s the unsubstantiated nature of Timon’s wealth and reputation that underpins his downfall. Alcibiades can raise troops loyal to him to take revenge for his treatment. Timon is left to rage impotently at the whole world.

It would have been nice to have rounded off the evening with a reference back to the management seminar idea we started with, but it was an exhausting evening to watch, never mind perform in, so I’m not surprised they ended it with Timon’s epitaph. The energy of this staging was amazing. Not just in terms of the physical energy, but the way the actors blended the various aspects together. It was a great piece of teamwork, and I would happily see this company again.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Julius Caesar – September 2006

Experience: 6/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Sean Holmes

Venue: RST

Date: Friday 29th September 2006

As Steve put it afterwards, this was effectively a radio play on stage. Not as a criticism, more as an appropriate way of describing the production. The set was non-existent, apart from microphones dangling from above (at first I thought they might be light bulbs). We could just see the musicians at the back of the stage, to left and right. Props were brought on as necessary, but were few and far between. A tailor’s dummy served as Caesar’s statue, and for the storm scene we had actual rain and a thunder board at the back. Otherwise, all was created by lights and acting. When Cassius and Brutus withdraw to Brutus’ tent, a square of light delineates it for us – a lovely touch, very simple and effective. I gather some people have been very unhappy with this set up, but it worked fine for me – text, text, and more text.

This also meant there was no time wasted in scene changes – the action flowed very quickly, and you had to keep your wits about you. The costumes were also simple. The opening revellers had vibrant coloured robes, the soldiers wore red tops and leggings, Roman senators had togas, and the women had simple shift dresses. For the assassination, all white robes were used, with the togas being made of some wipe-clean, non-absorbent stuff. Very practical, even if the slight sheen of the surface did look a little strange. Lots of gore was used, naturally enough, and there was even a small patch left at the front of the stage for the second half – normally these things are scrupulously cleaned up at the interval, but not this time.

The play opens with the revellers enjoying themselves with some Asian-sounding music and dance. It looked for all the world as though they’d been so impressed by the DASH Dream, that they thought they’d try a bit of Asian culture in this production as well. It struck me as out of keeping, especially when I’d seen the rest of the production, but then there’s many aspects of Roman culture I don’t know about. Anyway, the rabble is cleared by two Roman senators, and although I could hear the lines perfectly well, I didn’t feel there was much going on with the characters on stage. The rabble just did as they were told, and there was no sense of them reacting to the senators’ telling off, either to grumble or to be ashamed. This lack of reaction permeated the play, so that it was more like a rehearsed reading at times. However, the lines were delivered clearly, and so I got a great deal out of this production, despite the unusual style of performance.

For the next scenes, Caesar’s arrival, and Cassius’ wooing of Brutus, etc., the staging was interesting. Cassius and Brutus were left at the front of stage, with Caesar and the rest heading to the back. Those actors stayed there, in plain sight, and the cheering offstage was made more apparent by this group being lit at those points. It was very clear who was who and what was going on, including Cassius’ duplicity in seducing Brutus to his cause. The soothsayer was a bit disappointing. He crept up the ramp leading to the stage, reminding me of Hamlet’s ghost from a couple of years back, somewhat melodramatic in such a sparse production.

Brutus’ soliloquy was probably very good, but sadly I was seized with a coughing fit, out of the blue, and not only missed a lot of it, but probably spoiled things for some of the audience. Sorry. I felt terrible about it, not least because I wanted to get out of there to spare everyone, but the ramp to the stage was on the near side, blocking that exit, and I didn’t know if I could make it all the way along the row to the other aisle without causing even more of a disturbance. While I debated this, not an easy thing to do when I was trying not to choke, the fit started to ease, so I held on, but not before I’d had to let out several racking coughs. Not an experience I want to repeat anytime soon.

The plotting rattled on in the meantime, and again there was little background reaction to Brutus taking over the conspiracy and leading it down the path of virtuous failure. Cassius really should be doing more here, I feel, but at least the dialogue was crisp and intelligible. Off they go to encourage Caesar to go to the Senate, and the idea that he might lose out on the crown really got across, both to Caesar, and to the audience. Of course, he didn’t want to look like a total wimp either, but he might have put up with it if there hadn’t been anything at stake. The wipe-clean togas were a bit of a giveaway, but all went to script (and to history, for once), and soon Caesar lay dead, pumping blood like a vampire drive-through. The interval came soon after, following Mark Antony’s brief soliloquy over the corpse. So far, so good, though nothing spectacular.

One point to mention, though. During Antony’s speech, at the line “And Caesar’s spirit, ranging for revenge,” Caesar’s body did indeed rise up and stood there, joining in the speech, mouthing along to “Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war”. The ghost then wandered off gradually, reappearing as required, leaving the bloody and torn toga to represent the corpse being shown to the masses. Interesting staging. We’ve seen before that there are limited ways to get a dead body off stage – they can either be carried off or walk off. Otherwise they just litter the place up (as in Venice Preserv’d, I seem to recall, at the Citizens, many years ago. And that was a small stage, gradually getting smaller as the bodies mounted up). This was as good a way of handling it as any other, and certainly got across the point that this was Caesar’s ghost we’re seeing, handy later on for those who don’t know the play.

The second half was where this production came to life. Antony’s manipulation of the populace was masterly, as usual, so much so that he had to rein back the riot he’d provoked to add the finishing touch – the details of Caesar’s will  which showed how much he’d loved the people of Rome. All balderdash, but when can you ever trust a politician? This was much more lively than anything that had gone before, and the whole production gained energy from it. Brutus’ magnanimity, fine in itself, is once again the conspirator’s Achilles’ heel, and civil war ensues.

I’ve mentioned the effective use of light to create Brutus’ tent. The scene between him and Cassius was well played, still not in as much detail as I’ve seen before, but with much more emotion evident. I especially noticed the mention of Portia’s death, and how it affected Cassius, genuinely, I think. It seemed odd to have Brutus then deny all knowledge of the event when the other generals gather to discuss strategy, but it looked like he was either unwilling to discuss the matter, or checking to see if the information was good. Most likely the former. Again, Brutus overrules Cassius in matters of strategy, and they head to their doom.

Caesar’s appearance to Brutus was simply done, with Caesar’s ghost standing at the back of the stage, and spotlit during his lines. The microphones that I mentioned at the start were used to good effect here, as they had been throughout the play, giving a bit of echo and amplification to the ghost’s voice.

The short scene with Antony, Octavius and Lepidus came over much better than I’ve heard before. It’s clear what’s going on, and also that Antony is as guilty of treachery in advance as the conspirators. Octavius seems to be playing his cards close to his chest, though from his comment ”some that smile have in their hearts, I fear, Millions of mischiefs”, it’s clear he views Antony much as Antony views Lepidus. All predators on the prowl.

The setting up of the battle scenes was excellent. A rush of soldiers across the stage, leaving battle debris behind them – in an instant we’re there. As soldiers die, they lie there, and when they’re needed as another character, they simply get up and join in again. Simple, effective, and with the earlier rise of Caesar, easy to accept. In some cases, soldiers have cloaks thrown about them, which they can throw off to become another character – Brutus, Cassius, etc. This speeds things up enormously, but despite the potential confusion of so many short scenes, the final act comes across very well, and was quite moving. The final tableau, of Octavius and Antony standing over the defeated Brutus’ body, echoes their earlier meeting, as Antony realises he’s got into bed with as ruthless an operator as himself, and starts to shake.

Although this production was lacking in some areas, I found it interesting and stimulating. It’s nice to see a completely different approach and get a new perspective, though I wouldn’t want to see so little passion in every production.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Tempest – September 2006

Experience: 3/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Rupert Goold

Venue: RST

Date: Thursday 28th September 2006

I was a bit disappointed with this production – I expected it to be better than it was. There were some aspects I liked, but on the whole I found it uninteresting and somewhat dull.

Before the start, a screen at the front of the stage showed a painting of some sort of radio receiver, on a huge scale. The opening lines were unusual – a shipping forecast that mentioned “North” and “Iceland”, and gave a storm warning in the traditional clipped form of such broadcasts. The speaker part of the radio then faded as the lighting behind revealed the ship’s radio cabin, where all the storm action took place. Ariel appeared towards the end of this scene, to indicate his involvement in the adverse weather conditions.

The good point about this staging was that the lines were fairly clear, and we got a chance to see the various characters – John Hopkins as Sebastian showing his craven character from the off – and Ariel’s arrival was interesting. However, I found the whole sequence off-putting for a number of reasons. Firstly, the shipping forecast makes it clear that the island we’ve arrived at is either Iceland, or somewhere else in the north Atlantic – a frozen waste instead of a Mediterranean rock. Those sailors must have been extraordinarily bad to have arrived in the North Atlantic from Tunis, headed for Naples! If they wanted to get across the connotations of Iceland (barren waste, prison-like, possible Frankenstein?(this was Steve’s thought)), surely we didn’t need such a specific reference. Secondly, the cramped cabin, while making the point that the aristocrats are seriously in the sailors’ way, does make the scene pretty static, and the sense of a life-threatening storm is lost. (Although Jean-Luc’s experience at synchronised ship-rolling probably came in useful here.) Nor did it help that Ariel reminded me of Lurch, the Addams’ family butler. All in all, not the most auspicious start.

Second up, we have Prospero’s account of the family history to Miranda. The scene opens with Prospero standing at a brazier, with his back to us, wearing a fur rug attached to a head-dress made out of an animal’s sacrum and tail bones. Or as I thought at first, some alien life-form that had invaded the island while Prospero wasn’t looking. (I suppose it was inevitable that Star Trek references would start to pop up in what is, after all, a pretty surreal play by Shakespeare’s standards.) The scruffiness of their home, the need for serious warmth on a Mediterranean isle that just happens to be in the North Atlantic, all these things I could live with. I wasn’t taken with Miranda, though. I accept that she’s been on this island from a young age, with only her father and Caliban for company, so she doesn’t know much about the outside world or social graces. And there’s no reason why daughters of aristocracy or royalty always have to be good-looking – our own royal family proves that. Still, I wasn’t keen on a Miranda who looks and acts like a ten-year-old who would rather be playing with her dolls than getting interested in the opposite sex. Her gawkiness was matched by an expression which made her look more pugnacious than usual, although her manner was anything but. In fact, this character could have slept through the entire play for all the animation she displayed. Not a criticism of the actress, who was fine later on as Portia in Julius Caesar, but another way in which this production failed to engage me. It made it hard to believe that Ferdinand would have fallen for her – it may just have been strategy on his part, but it wasn’t played that way as far as I could see. I also found Ariel’s first appearance here rather comic – he pops up out of the brazier! All we see is his head sticking up. Given that I found his appearance pretty funny anyway, I couldn’t take this seriously, although his later ‘magical’ appearance from behind the door was more effective.

Apart from the cramped cabin, the set was a barren landscape, with a mound of debris slightly off-centre, and bits of plank etc., sticking out of it. There were a few poles forming some kind of support for an upturned half-boat, or what was left of it. This appeared to be Caliban’s only shelter, and he’s hiding inside this boat when we first encounter him. As he’s attached to it by a long rope, he also drags it round with him, and it becomes his cover during the storm when Trinculo discovers him. One aspect of the production I liked was the repetition of this dragging theme – Caliban drags his boat, and also some logs. Ferdinand also drags logs, and there were other echoes of this throughout the play. I found this a good visual theme.

Caliban is not as gruesome in this version as in some I’ve seen. He’s a bit mucky, true, and also tends to walk on all fours, but he’s not hideously deformed or ugly. Again, I felt sorry for him, but then I’ve rarely found Prospero a sympathetic character, and his treatment of Caliban is the main cause for that. The business with Trinculo and Stefano was amusing, full of sexual innuendo, but I only laughed out loud once, towards the end, at a bit of business I’ve now forgotten. The kids in the audience loved it, and it was certainly in keeping with Shakespeare’s comedy, but again it left me largely unmoved. There never seemed to be any real threat to Prospero from this group, which can happen.

The scene Prospero conjures up for the young lovers was very different from the standard. The three fairies rose from one of the bunk beds in the cabin, and proceeded to carry out a form of marriage ritual, using earth, fire, water and cloth. All the while they produced a weird chanting, which took a little getting used to, but I did like it. There was none of the usual goddesses, and I found this refreshing, and much more in keeping with this reading of the play.

The King of Naples and his cronies were OK, but without distinction. Ferdinand was fine, but with nothing much to play against, this character on his own couldn’t make a real difference. I did like the fake feast, though. The fairies brought on a large seal (deceased) on a sledge. The nasty folk fell to, hands full of bloody blubber, while the good guys stood aloof. Then Ariel bursts forth from the seal carcass, with additional wire effects of wings and claws, and scares the shit out of everyone. Excellent. Incidentally, this Ariel was on a go-slow. I’ve seen this done before – a steady, graceful glide rather than a nimble hyperactive sprite, and it can work very well. Here it was OK, but didn’t add anything for me.

          One thing that did work, though, was the exchange between Prospero and Ariel, where Ariel’s own sense of pity for the wrongdoers’ suffering here effectively triggers Prospero’s own forgiveness. He was obviously heading for resolution anyway, but I got the feeling Ariel’s expression of pity surprises Prospero, and softens his plans somewhat. I could be wrong, but that’s how I took it.

          So now I suppose I have to tackle the hardest subject of all – what I thought of the central performance. Look, I’ve enjoyed so much of Patrick Stewart’s work that I hate having to say anything less than ‘he played a blinder’. Indeed, till this season, I didn’t think I’d have to, such is the man’s talent and experience. I guess I’ll just have to accept that this reading of the play didn’t work for me. I couldn’t get any real sense from the performance of the man’s past, nor much sense of his emotional journey through the events of the play. Unless it was meant to be an unsympathetic reading, in which case, fine. But I couldn’t help feeling there was a lot more to be got out of this major part, and I just wasn’t seeing it. Ah well.

Overall, I felt the staging worked against the text in too many ways, and brought the whole production down.

[Update from the front lines: Steve saw this again in London, and confirmed that it had come on a great deal since we saw it in Stratford. The performances were more expressive, some of the staging had been changed, especially in the scene where we first see Prospero, and he felt it was a much better performance than before.]

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Romeo and Juliet – September 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Nancy Meckler

Venue: RST

Date: Thursday 14th September 2006

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

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

Troilus And Cressida – September 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Peter Stein

Company: Edinburgh InternationalFestival in association with the RSC

Venue: RST

Date: Saturday 9th September 2006

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

King John – September 2006

Experience: 3/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Josie Rourke

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Saturday 9th September 2006

I found a lot of this terribly dreary, and could hardly keep my eyes open. The Swan felt very stuffy and I longed for a breath of air. The repetitive wordiness of the play just started to wash over me, and there wasn’t enough business and action to keep my attention. Like the bastard Philip, dubbed Sir Richard, I became frustrated that nothing was going on.

This was a disappointment, as much of the cast are also in Much Ado, which was excellent. This is not a criticism of the actors, as they were giving perfectly good performances – the production just didn’t have that sparkle about it. The bastard was definitely the best role, and Joseph Millson got a good deal of the humour out of the part. In fact, I thought there was more humour in his performance, if only the audience would have appreciated it better. Maybe it wasn’t so much a leaden production as a leaden audience. But I have seen it done better, especially the Cardinal. It’s as if the cast haven’t yet found out what a good play it can be.

Good points? The bastard, desperate for a fight, constantly being frustrated by all the peace treaties that get agreed! His comments on the “wooing” between Blanche and the Dauphin were entertaining. Blanche was good – it’s a small part, but she made her presence felt. As she was talking about her divided loyalties pulling her in two different directions, Eleanor and the Dauphin were actually holding a hand each – a human tug-o-war.

Not so good points: Constance’s grief at losing her son did go on a bit.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Much Ado About Nothing – September 2006

Experience: 10/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Marianne Elliot

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Friday 8th September 2006

For the first half, I felt this was the best ever production of anything I’d ever seen, anywhere. I was going to revise my star ratings to give this eleven! Then the second half opened with Dogberry, and the soufflé collapsed. To be fair, this was one of the better Dogberry’s I’ve seen, so it didn’t collapse far, and I would still recommend everybody on the planet to see this production at least sixteen times before they die.

To start with, all the dialogue was delivered so clearly, and with such good understanding of what was being said, that I understood the play far better than I ever have before, and I got all of the jokes, which is no mean feat. The setting worked brilliantly. Pre-Castro Cuba, with lots of heat, bars and cigars, the air was steamy long before the lovers got going. We were entertained to some Latin-American music from the band before the start, and there was plenty more during the show as well.

I can’t possibly note up everything that happened, so here’s a jumble of thoughts and memories. Benedick as a moving pot plant – totally over the top and brilliantly done. We laughed so much at this, that the following eavesdropping scene, with Beatrice, felt a bit flatter, but Beatrice managed to go one better than Benedick and actually creep right up to the bench that Ursula was sitting on. Ursula even put her hand, accidentally, on Beatrice’s, and had to pretend not to notice. Before that, we had a slightly predictable joke when Beatrice moved next to the Vespa parked on stage, and naturally set off the horn. Little bit obvious, but still enjoyable. My favourite part was at the beginning of that scene, when Beatrice enters from the side, and runs along the front of row A to hide at the back, hopefully not treading on anyone’s toes.

Benedick winking at the Duke to get him to insist on Benedick revealing all about Claudio. Borachio’s interest in Hero, causing his jealousy and hence the assistance he gives to Don John. Borachio actually spends time with Hero, which we don’t see Claudio do till after the Duke’s done the deal.

The tempo eases down in the second half, partly because Dogberry is played at a slow pace, and partly because the story gets a lot darker. I realised that what brings Beatrice and Benedick together in this section is the seriousness of what happens to the people they care about – they’re not able to joke about this stuff, and so they’re able to express their truer feelings about each other as well. Once the problems are resolved, they’re back to sniping at each other again, but too late to deny their feelings.

The crunchy floor isn’t particularly noisy in this production – must be the soles of their shoes. Still sticks to everything, though.

Dogberry was OK, making him better than most I’ve seen. I even found some of his jokes funny. Verges we were already familiar with from a couple of seasons at Chichester, and I enjoyed what there was of the part. The watch were good, hiding out amongst the audience to overhear Borachio and Conrad, but on the whole I preferred the YPS watch – they made much more of them, although it was a shorter version.

The second half was more moving. I always feel for Hero in her suffering after the false accusation. This time, Margaret, realising what she’s been involved in, runs from the church, really upset. They made a lot of some pearls which Claudio gives Hero, and to my mind, Hero was just a bit too interested in them rather than the man. Not sure this is going to be a happy marriage for Claudio (but then, does he deserve one?)

Masks for the first ball – the Prince has a lion mask, Benedick a monkey, and Claudio a clown, all very appropriate.

One quibble about the scene with Benedick in his floral shirt – it’s clear he’s changed, and shaved his beard, so perhaps the Prince could have played it up as a bit more of a joke – there’s no ‘discovery’ of the changes, so no need to play it straight.

Wonderful use of a megaphone to bid Benedick “come in to supper”, especially as Beatrice is standing about a foot in front of him at the time. His reaction to this summons was wonderful too – his conviction that there’s a double meaning in her words was beautifully insane and another one of the many funny moments in this production.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Henry IV part 2 – July 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Barbara Gaines

Company: Chicago Shakespeare Theatre

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Thursday 13th July 2006

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

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

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

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

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

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Henry IV part 1 – July 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Barbara Gaines

Company: Chicago Shakespeare Theatre

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Thursday 13th July 2006

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me