Tag Archives: Swan Theatre

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

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

Richard III – YPS – September 2006

Experience: 3/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Jennie Buckman

Company: RADA

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Friday 8th September 2006

They were performing on the set for the RSC’s Much Ado About Nothing – a Cuban bar – with a pole, light bulbs strung round the place and bits of broken up tarmac on the stage. This made for lots of crunching sounds as people walked, danced, etc., and left lots of bits on costumes. At times, given how much Richard was leaping about, it was like a crunchy soft shoe shuffle. Very unfortunate. The RADA set itself was a simple white sheet, hung over the back balcony, and used for silhouettes, projection, and with a slit for a doorway. Very effective.

The costumes were very retro. Doublet and hose for the men, period dress for the women. While it’s nice to see lots of lean and muscular masculine legs, there was no benefit in choosing this style. It didn’t add to the production. There were some costume changes, because of the doubling.

Overall, this production needed better editing of the text. The already excessive one hour twenty-five minutes overran by 15 minutes – a long time to expect young kids to sit still on a gym floor. I was toiling towards the end, because of the long drive up. The opening was strangely drawn-out, and for me it added nothing to the production. For about five minutes before the start, there were two couples standing in the front corners, chatting quietly to each other – whispering sweet nothings, judging by the actions. A couple of servants appeared at the curtain, and shortly afterwards the house lights went down. The King came through the curtain, with the Queen, and the three couples began a dance. While this was going on, Richard of Gloucester crept slowly onto the stage, finally launching into one of the most famous opening lines of all time. At least he could indicate the King when talking about “this sun/son of York”. And we were shown, in mime, the initial stages of Clarence’s arrest. Otherwise a slow way to start a play that already has time problems.

From there we jump straight into Richard’s hyper performance – waving his arms around like he’s trying to use semaphore as well as speak the part, striding the length and breadth of the stage just to show us his legs do work. This was definitely over the top, and I wondered at the time if such a young actor would be able to handle the demands of this role.

Fortunately, the next scene we get is Anne escorting King Henry VI’s body to church. Despite her early attempts to outdo Richard in the histrionics department, this gradually settled down into a nice exchange between these characters, Richard displaying his brass neck to full advantage, and Anne managing to find it in her heart to call a truce, if not forgive entirely. I don’t know if this is a really tricky scene to do, or if it’s so well written it’s almost infallible, but at least the performances were shaping up.

Other good points: the servants we see at the start turn into the two murderers, both excellent performances. First murderer, Forest, is played with a Welsh accent, and displays a perfectionist’s commitment to the important task of bumping off a member of the royal family. He lays out his bundle of implements carefully, checks them all, and then puts on his apron and large red rubber gloves with precision. All this business takes him right through the dialogue, so he’s ready for action when Clarence wakes up. The second murderer, Dighton, is much more panicky, but recovers himself as quick as you like once Forest reminds him of the money involved. Clarence himself was very good in this scene. Without the preamble of his fatal dream, he has to start from scratch, and manages to express greater panic in pleading for his life than I’ve seen before. Here, it worked.

I liked the use of silhouettes to show Richard at prayer with the monks, and also the bribing of the audience to shout “Long live Richard, England’s worthy King”. Sadly, the money was fake, so being typical peasants, we refused to do anything for it, but Richard was still offered the crown anyway. While they might have edited out the dream scene before the battle, I did like they way the ghosts spoke their lines all together – not only saving time, but emphasising the sheer number of people Richard had both pissed off and bumped off during his villainous career. One slightly naughty tweak to the text gave the young king, Edward V, a play on words that allowed Richard and Buckingham to laugh sycophantically. “Fie! what a slug is Hastings, that he makes not haste to tell us…” instead of the “comes” in my edition. Still a good laugh, so I’m not complaining.

Not so good points: they could have cut a lot more of the play, especially much of the women’s wailing and cursing, the pre-battle dream sequence, and the opening dance. It was a difficult piece to choose from an editing point of view. I don’t know if they were given a free hand, or a shortlist, or what. The action is all very well, but the heart of the play is the nature of Richard’s villainy and its outcomes, and that didn’t come across so well in this version. The humour was fine, but it didn’t satisfy me.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Much Ado About Nothing – YPS – September 2006

Experience: 8/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by John Hartoch

Company: Bristol Old Vic Theatre School

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Tuesday 5th September 2006

This was excellent. But for the severe truncation of the play, it would have been a 10/10 performance. I was amazed to find these actors had completed only the first year of a two-year course – several looked so accomplished I would have thought they were already professionals.

Although this telling was succinct, there was time to cover all the high points of the full version, and to include some original business as well. At the beginning, two soldiers march a surly-looking fellow (Don John?) onto stage. Leaving him in the middle, they march to one side and prepare to fire. Another man appears (the Prince?), and gives the signal to shoot. The guns fire, and streamers shoot out – it’s a joke! Not that the chap being shot at enjoys it much.

Then the regular plot starts, with Leonato telling his daughter and niece of the Prince’s return. I was delighted with this Beatrice (Emma Clifford). She nailed Beatrice’s character beautifully – full of chiding without any real malice, but unable to hold her tongue for long. Michelle Lukes was as lively a Hero as I’ve seen, registering a lot more of the character’s emotions, especially during her repudiation at the church. Adam Thomas gave a good performance as Leonato. An older student, he had the advantage of his own years to convey Leonato’s, and he carried the part well, doing a good impression of a bumbling amateur during the deception of Benedick.

When the men arrive, we confirm that the characters in the initial mime were indeed the Prince and Don John. Oliver Millingham plays the Prince as a lively man, fond of practical jokes and arranging other people’s lives for them. Claudio (David Oakes) is tall, handsome and full of nobility and courage, while Benedick (Peter Basham) is a robust type, older than Claudio, and with a healthy dislike of marriage. He pines to “see a bachelor of three score again.” His sparring with and wooing of Beatrice were lively and entertaining, and he moved into the more sombre scenes smoothly and convincingly. His was one of the best performances in a good all-round cast.

Don John was a credible villain, sulking even more after his humiliation at the fake firing squad. Neil Jennings doubled this part with the second watchman, which gave him a chance to show a lighter touch in a comedic role. Another of the best performances came from Nick Whitley as Borachio. He slipped onto stage during the Prince’s promise to woo for Claudio, and seeing what was going on, hid himself behind the curtain to overhear. After they left, he strolled onto the stage, bottle in hand, to let us know his intentions. Nick looked very assured and gave plenty to this small, but important, supporting role. Don John’s other servant, Conrad, was played by Paul Jellis, who also played the friar. Conrad was fine, and I liked the friar, especially when he settled up with the Prince once Benedick agrees to marry.

The parts of Hero and Margaret were being alternated, and today Margaret was played by Notzarina Reevers, doubling with first watchman. Both of these were good performances. Margaret had her flounces from time to time, but she was still the loyal maid enjoying her part in snaring Beatrice for Benedick. First and second watchmen were a great double act, as first watchman had to assert her authority and retain her pike (they only had one between them!). She did this easily, and took to swinging it around in a dangerous manner, as when Dogberry is questioning Conrad and Borachio. Good fun.

So to Dogberry (David Edenfield) and Verges (Matt Barber, doubling as Messenger). Dogberry is such a difficult part to do nowadays, and I’ve rarely enjoyed it. This part was naturally cut right down, yet the character came across just fine, and the climactic “O that I had been writ down an ass!” was very funny. One of the few parts that benefited from the cuts. Verges and Messenger were small parts, and well done, though without much scope for catching the eye.

The set was very simple, as they have to be. Apparently they must be able to be set up and taken down in ten minutes. A curtain formed of four parts hung at the back of the thrust, with words from the play writ large across it. Underneath these were printed dictionary definitions of some of the words, e.g. love, honour, scorn, folly, etc. Two boxes covered in cloth stood towards either side of the curtain, with individual words on each side, echoing the curtain’s decoration. These boxes were moved forward, singly or together, to form seats, tables, plant pots, etc., and other props were added as needed; chairs, trees, altar cloth, and so on. Live music came mostly from behind the curtain, and sometimes on stage or from the sides. They’re a talented bunch, these actors, as they played all the instruments themselves.

The costumes picked up the general theme, as most of the outfits had a word or two painted on them. The Duke had both “Love” and “Scorn” on his trouser legs, Claudio had “Noble”, Benedick had “Sport” and Beatrice had “Scorn” across her stomach. The Prince was in off-white, Leonato in grey, and Don John in black. Because it was so short, there were no costume changes, so Hero had to start off in her wedding dress (white, drop-waisted, with a voile skirt), while Beatrice was wearing bright red, and Margaret wore a fetching blue number. The watch had pudding basin helmets.

One obvious difference from yesterday was the power of delivery. These guys could really fill the space, vocally. I heard virtually every word clearly, and they obviously knew what their characters were saying as well. There were a few problems with sightlines being blocked, but that’s a natural hazard in this space. All in all, this was an amazing production.

Some of the business has already been covered. The scene where the Prince, Claudio and Leonato convince Benedick of Beatrice’s love was a masterpiece. With Benedick lurking behind the curtain, though not completely out of sight, the Prince dishes out the ‘parts’ to the other players. Leonato, an enthusiastic amateur, manages to drop too many of his pages, and there’s a lovely moment of panic as all three scramble to find his lines. As the Prince and Claudio walk and talk, Claudio’s sword accidentally pulls back the curtain, threatening to reveal Benedick, who has to grab it to stay concealed. This amuses the others so much, they make another pass by the curtain to repeat the trick. Frankly, they were laughing so much that it nearly made Benedick a liar when he says their conference was “sadly borne”.

Finally, to tie the production up, the introductory scene was repeated – Don John was led onto stage, the firing squad prepared to shoot, the Prince raised his hand to give the signal – and then the lights went out, leaving us with a lovely, ambiguous ending. We all loved it so much we applauded past the house lights going up, so they took their final curtain call in semi gloom. Great fun, and I hope they all do well in their future careers.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

All’s Well That Ends Well – YPS – September 2006

Experience: 6/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Gavin Marshall

Company: Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Monday 4th September 2006

This was the first Young People’s Shakespeare that we’d seen. Apparently they’re strictly limited to 75 minutes per performance, so the text has to be drastically reduced. This was (possibly) the first time these had been performed by acting students – normally fully fledged RSC actors do these productions.

The remaining text for this play focused intensely on the main characters. Ten performers covered all the parts. This made several things very clear. Firstly, I understood for the first time the importance of showing up Parolles as the fool and coward he is. Bertram’s judgement is so poor, as it is in rejecting Helena, that he needs a wake-up call. Secondly, I could see more clearly how determined Helena is to earn Bertram’s love – it’s a quest story, though as usual Shakespeare has turned it upside down by having the woman seek the man – very Women’s Lib.

Finally, seeing the truncated version made me appreciate Will’s talent even more. Not only can cut-down versions of his plays be very enjoyable, but I have greater insight into how important the ‘non-essential’ parts are. They don’t just pad things out, they contribute a lot to the characterisation, they allow the audience time to absorb what they’ve seen, catch up with the plot from their neighbours, and keep the rabble amused. The short version is fine, and I can still enjoy the longer version, too.

Full scale productions also have the advantage of more people on stage, which gives more opportunities for fun. I’m thinking particularly of the scene at the end where the King, not having learned his lesson, promises Diana her choice of husband from among his noblemen. When you have a dozen or so spare nobles pottering about on stage, there’s a lot more to be made of their reactions – here it just whizzed by without comment.

This production started with a song, a kind of wailing, which we came to realise was a mourning dirge for the recently deceased Count of Rousillion. The actors processed from the side to form up in two lines on the stage, women to the left, men to the right, with a priest figure in front, ringing a bell. The singing wasn’t too bad, though I felt they were trying to be overly ambitious with the harmonies, given the few singers available. Either that, or they were just a bit shaky in this department.

After the funeral, Bertram takes his leave, and we get our first insight into Helena’s wit, as she spars with Parolles, Bertram’s follower. The story rattles through – the King welcomes Bertram, the Countess discovers Helena’s affections and supports her in going to the King to see if she can cure him, bearing in mind her double reason for going. She cures the King, claims Bertram and so begins the long chain of unhappy events. Bertram quits the court, to go off to the wars (has the man gone mad? or does this just show how much he loathes his new wife?). Helena, having returned to Rousillion, sneaks off after him, leaving the Countess to inform the world that she has died. In Italy, she encounters the very women who can help her to win Bertram – just how lucky can one girl get? The widow with whom she lodges has a daughter, Diana, who has caught Bertram’s eye. Now the widow makes out that Diana’s virtuous, but it seems to be a bargaining tool, because from Diana’s behaviour it’s obvious she fancies a bit of nobleman herself, and it’s only her mother’s advice to fend them off till the marriage is sealed that’s kept her pure! Anyway, they agree to help Helena, and Bertram’s fate is sealed – he can’t outwit one woman, what chance does he have against three?

Parolles is also up against it when he’s kidnapped by his own team, and soon reveals all in front of Bertram, fresh from his tryst with Diana/Helena. Back at the French Court, the three women confront Bertram and all is, hopefully, made good.

With such a shortened script, there was very little time to play around. Parolles’ part probably suffered most, as it usually relies on business and a fancy costume to get across the humour, and much of that was cut out. But there were some lovely pieces of staging.

Firstly, there was a nice touch during the opening funeral scene. Simple hand gestures indicated dirt being thrown onto the coffin. The stage was almost bare – only six stools positioned at the back of the thrust, carrying a bell, a purple cushion, a crown and a drum. Actors took their places here often at the beginning of the previous scene, so the action was almost non-stop. Actors also stood there when a letter their character had written was being read out so they could say the words themselves.

A messenger arrives at one point, sits on the stage, and proceeds to take his shoe and sock off to tend to his sore foot. Parolles comes on, and tries to sneak a peek at the messenger’s bag, or at least nick his hip flask. No chance – this messenger has obviously encountered Parolles before, and he’s not letting anything out of his sight, eventually sitting on his bag to stop Parolles walking off with it.

The hip flask featured later, as the messenger, now playing a soldier, tries to chat up a woman in the audience, even offering her a swig, which she declined. As an officer looms up, the soldier hides the flask with her, but sadly the officer is wise to this, and he ends up losing both woman and flask.

The audience were also involved when Parolles is about to be tortured. As he tries to get away, he grabs the legs of someone in the front row, and has to be dragged off, screaming. He made a wonderful coward, yelling his head off when he thought he was about to be killed.

That’s about it. The costumes were plain and functional. Parolles had a red scarf to indicate his flashy dressing! Generally, there were weaknesses in delivery, with a lot of lines being lost, but overall it was well played and enjoyable.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Love’s Labour’s Lost – August 2006

Experience: 9/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Michael Kahn

Company: Shakespeare Theatre Company

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Friday 18th August 2006

Hooray – another wonderful American production! First, the pre-show. The director, Michael Kahn and the composer, Adam Wernock, spoke with us for about 45 minutes on the creative processes that led to the production being as it is. That is, the director spoke, the composer mainly listened, and Carol Rutter, who chaired the whole thing, took much too long to put the questions. However, it was very informative. Kahn explained how the theatre had come about – the library it’s attached to had (and still has?) the biggest collection of Shakespeare folios in existence. They decided about 25/30 years ago to make use of a courtyard area for productions of the plays, and this proved so successful they had to expand. Unfortunately, the library wasn’t keen to be involved, and so at this point the citizens of Washington DC chipped in and contributed enough money to enable a theatre to be created within a run-down area of Washington that was being redeveloped. He commented that since most residents of Washington are transitory, politics being what it is, this was quite remarkable (but then Will has a habit of turning up trumps!).

From the second year or so, he was invited to be artistic director of the new theatre (although I’m not sure if he had such a grand title then). Since that time they’ve performed five Shakespeare plays each year, doing over twenty of them in all. They’ve also had strong links with the RSC, which has brought over its productions regularly. Sometimes these clashed, and after a while, the Americans stopped trying to compete, and just avoided doing the plays the RSC was bringing over.

Because of these links, Michael Boyd was keen to have the company over for the Complete Works Festival, and his only request was that they do a comedy. Apparently everyone was relieved when they chose Love’s Labour’s Lost, as no one else wanted to do it. Kahn had first seen the play many years before at the National, directed by Olivier, and was scared to find there were no laughs in it. As he was due to direct it, he re-read the piece, and developed a strong sense of the play as commenting on relationships between men and women, and particularly the way the men were becoming more feminine, while the women were very strong and kept trouncing the men easily. He likened it to the situation at that time, the 1960s; young men wearing robes, with long hair, going off to India to meditate and attempting to find spiritual enlightenment, while women were burning bras and discovering their strength and power. So he used a contemporary setting for his first production. Later in the talk he observed that any way of staging Shakespeare is valid as long as it serves to illuminate the text, and doesn’t simply hijack it for the director’s own purposes. (Here, here!)

For this production, he decided to return to the 60s setting, for two main reasons. Firstly, he was interested to see how it would work looking back over forty years, given our different awareness and understanding today. Secondly, because the setting still conveys much of the sense that Shakespeare was trying to get across with this play. Like most reflections or talks on Will’s work, he started by describing LLL as a very complex play (come on then, tell us which Shakespeare play isn’t complex?). The specific problems with this play are the lack of plot, and the incredibly rich language and word plays, much too obscure for most modern audience members to grasp. Shakespeare is just showing off how good he is with words (no argument there) but without the skills as a dramatist that he develops later, the play lacks the substance of other works such as Much Ado. Paradoxically, Kahn asserted that despite these difficulties, whenever LLL has been staged, it has been successful; the play seems to have some inbuilt attraction.

The composer got a few words in about this time. Because there’s so much poetry in the play – the would-be-lovers are always penning love sonnets – they decided to put them to music, so the composer had a lot of work to do, researching American bands of that time and choosing suitable tunes to match the rhythm of each verse. Some parts of the poem were used as a chorus, and when they realised all four actors were on stage at the end of the first half, with their instruments, they added a full blown musical number to round off the half (see below for effect). Although some of the actors had some experience with their instruments, none had enough for this, so they all had to work really hard to reach a good level of proficiency.

To the performance itself. What a treat! I tried to calm my expectations before we saw it, as the pre-show had made it sound really good, but I didn’t have to worry. We saw the set during the pre-show – Indian temple/palace, lots of vast pots with orange/yellow/red flowers, lavishly decorated pillars, a couple of seats and a couple of palm trees. The King of Navarre was translated into an Asian nobleman/king, bent on raising his spiritual awareness, and welcomed three American rock stars to join him in this three year retreat. They made the inevitable mistake of signing up to the celibacy thing just before Berowne reminded the King he’s got an imminent meeting with a woman, the King of France’s daughter, no less. How stupid are these guys, to forget a thing like that? Anyway, we had some fun seeing the King tell off Costard for consorting with a woman, knowing that he’s going to suffer for love himself before long. Costard was played as an American hippy which fitted well with the setting but didn’t get some aspects of his part across so well. Still he was good fun, especially the spliff-rolling and slogan chanting.

Don Armado was entertaining too, but even better was his little page, Moth. Often played by a boy actor, here he was played as an Indian servant by Nick Choksi, a young man, who was able to deliver the lines much more clearly and wring much more humour from the dialogue and the situation. Don Armado had a habit of throwing his arms wide and letting his fancy cane fly off in the process. One of Moth’s jobs was to catch this cane, and redeliver it on cue; he did this brilliantly, and I got a lot more out of this portrayal than I have before. I also found Don Armado more sympathetic. He came across as pompous, certainly, but there were more glimpses of his vulnerability, especially when his threadbare clothing was revealed beneath his coat before the duel.

The ladies arrived on Vespas, in pastel shades matching their outfits, Boyet riding pillion with one of the ladies. Their costumes were A-line dresses as short as you can get away with, knee-high boots, and their hair was a combination of 60s straight and 80s big. From the outset, these women were clearly more savvy than the men, which made the attempted wooing scenes all the more fun. One gem of this particular setting was when the wooers approached dressed as Russians. Since this was the 1960s, and they were pretending to be Russian, what better than putting them in space suits with helmets to disguise who they are? The men space-walked onto stage, slowly and ponderously, to the introduction from 2001. Brilliant.

But the highlight of the production was the poem-writing and discovery scene. As three of the men were musicians, naturally they were composing songs to their loves. This scene was marvellous, as the music brought the poetry to life. Longaville actually pushed his drum kit onto the stage for his rendition, and when Dumaine arrived, he threw a cover over himself and the drums. Then, as Dumaine started his ballad, the others joined in, Berowne up one of the palm trees on his guitar, Longaville on his drums, and the King, I think, had a tambourine or some such. Song done, each watcher revealed himself, and after a lengthy equivocation from Berowne to justify breaking their oaths, the first half closed with a song from the group + the King – a great way to end the act.

All the minor characters were good. For once I enjoyed the schoolteacher, Holofernes, and his accomplice, Sir Nathaniel. Holofernes looked somewhat dishevelled and the worse for wear, á la Sir Les Patterson. His conceit was set up very nicely, showing us how pretentious both he and Don Armado were. The nine Worthies part was the best I have seen. Dull, the policeman, was OK, though not up to the standard of the others, while Jaquenetta was stunning and danced provocatively at every opportunity. This was simply the best Love’s Labour’s Lost I have seen.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Two Noble Kinsmen – May 2006

8/10

By: William Shakespeare and John Fletcher (?)

Directed by: William Oldroyd

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Sunday 21st May 2006

What a treat this was! There had been so much to read when we booked for the first part of this Complete Works festival, that I didn’t really take in the details of many of the productions. So I was surprised (and as it turned out, not particularly delighted) to find Othello was an adaptation. I was just as surprised, but this time totally thrilled, to find out that this one-off rehearsed reading of The Two Noble Kinsmen was being done by the RSC Company touring The Canterbury Tales! The same group whom we’d seen and loved so much in January. They had kindly given up a free day in their very packed schedule, as well as the rehearsal time, of course, to give all of us this treat. Naturally, they were very warmly received at the start, and even more warmly applauded at the end. A few brave ones amongst them even stayed to answer a few questions, but more of that later.

The format was: an introduction by William Oldroyd, the assistant director for The Canterbury Tales and director of Two Noble Kinsmen, followed by a performance of the Knight’s tale from The Canterbury Tales, minus costumes, sets etc, followed by the rehearsed reading of Two Noble Kinsmen. They started with the original introduction by Chaucer (Mark Hadfield), bypassing the time in the tavern, and straight into the Knight’s tale. It was short, of course, covered the salient points (although Chaucer did have to nudge the knight back on track at one point), and I realised I was enjoying it much more than I did first time around. Perhaps I did just get the wrong end of the stick last time.

After the interval, the rehearsed reading began. Straight into the scene where the three queens (promotions there – in Chaucer it’s one queen and two duchesses) sue to Theseus to help them get their dead husband’s bodies to bury. Now Chaucer has Theseus agree pretty swiftly – doesn’t want to bore his readers – but Will (for we believe it was he who penned this scene) takes his time, savours every angle, even has the queens making the most unreasonable demands, to my mind. Only a genius can get away with this sort of thing! Not only do these women want Theseus to fight Creon so that they can bury their husbands, but he must DO IT NOW!, not mess about getting married to Hippolyta first, no chance. It’s no nooky for him till he gets the job done. What also impressed me with this scene is how the women all get a chance to speak, including Hippolyta and her sister Emilia. Fair enough, the knight’s only interested in the fighting bits of his tale, and so the women hardly feature, and that’s fine, but it’s also nice to hear them speak; it seems to me that that’s what Will so often did – gave people a voice who would otherwise never be heard.

Theseus responds pretty well to this badgering – well, the women do give him lots of reverence along the way – and soon Creon is out of office and there are two injured soldiers on the deck who’ve fought for the wrong side and ended up in prison. They get a bit more chat than before as well, telling each other how they’ll get through their life sentences with each other’s support and cousinly love. Boy, does that go out of the window as soon as they set eyes on Emilia.

The action is much brisker now in the play, compared to the story. Almost immediately, Theseus sends for Arcite to tell him he’s banished. Horror of horrors, he doesn’t want to go, but he heads off anyway, determined to come back and win his love, even though Palamon had first dibs on her. Palamon, still in prison, voices his concerns about this.

Now we come to the first major plot change – a whole new subplot about the jailer’s daughter, who has fallen in love with Palamon and arranges to free him. He then goes in search of Arcite, who with remarkable swiftness has reintroduced himself to Theseus’ country, disguised, and worked his way up to something like a squire, serving Emilia or possibly Theseus, I forget which. They meet and arrange to fight, and there’s a touching little scene where they help each other on with their armour, filched from Theseus’ store. It’s amazing how much they love and respect one another, and how willing they are to cut each other into little pieces for the sake of a woman, and one who, let it be remembered, has not yet been told about these frantic lovers, never mind given a choice in the matter! Before they do any real damage, Theseus, ever fond of a bit of hunting, arrives on the scene, and sets them the challenge – come back in a few months with three followers, and fight to the death, with the winner getting the woman. This is a shorter time frame than the Knight’s tale, and many fewer followers – Shakespeare and Fletcher obviously want to cut to the chase. Plus it’s harder to represent a hundred followers on stage compared to the printed, or rather hand-written page.

So off they go, back they come, and stop off at the nearest temple for a spot of prayer. Arcite prays to Mars, god of war, for victory. Palamon prays to Venus for success in love. And Emilia prays to Diana for continued chastity, or, failing that, that the best man wins. Now there’s a smart woman – hedging her bets with a plan B.

There’s an interesting change from the original at this point. The knight understandably gives us the fight in some detail. Shakespeare and Fletcher, on the other hand, ditch the fighting, and stay with Emilia, who has left the arena to await her fate. We hear the result of the battle by report, and so we can concentrate on her reaction. We also hear about Arcite falling off his horse, and he is brought on stage to give us his dying words, leaving Emilia to Palamon. Happy ending.

However, before the credits roll, let us return to the sub-plot. The jailer’s daughter, bless her little heart, has gone a bit crazy at the loss of Palamon. She was due to marry a young local man, but now she’s so far gone she’s convinced Palamon is coming back to marry her (or did Palamon make a promise he didn’t intend to keep?). She happens on a band of country folk who are preparing a small diversion for Theseus, a little dance, and as they’re short of a woman, they ask her to join in, which she does. The diversion, especially the introduction by their leader, a schoolmaster, is blatantly derived from the mechanicals play within A Midsummer Night’s Dream, while the jailer’s daughter treats us to a reprise of Ophelia’s mad scenes from Hamlet – and none the worse for that. Why not recycle some of Will’s greatest hits? After all, we do it often enough nowadays.

After this, the jailer’s daughter is taken home, and to restore her wits, a doctor suggests they tell her that the young man she was due to wed is in fact Palamon come back for her. This seems to do the trick.

While typing this, it became very clear what the differences were between the Knight’s tale and Two Noble Kinsmen. The Knight’s tale is simply telling the story, with very few embellishments, and very little of the characters and their emotional involvement in the play, which is very suitable for a character such as the Knight. By contrast, Two Noble Kinsmen really fleshes out the bare bones, makes the characters much more realistic, and gives us a much fuller emotional, as well as mental experience. The additional sub-plot adds depth, by showing us the flip side of the desperate, irrational love that seizes Arcite and Palamon. And although there’s plenty of humour in the staging of the Knight’s tale, it’s outgunned in that department by the play, as it is in all departments. Actually, it seemed funnier than the production we saw back in the mid-eighties, when it opened the Swan Theatre. Here’s hoping it’s put on again sometime soon, in a full production.

As far as figuring out which bits Shakespeare wrote and which Fletcher – who cares? The consensus in the post-show talk was that Shakespeare wrote the opening section with the queens pleading for revenge against Creon – very probable. The echoes of Will’s previous work may have been ‘homaged’ by Fletcher, and it was suggested that Will supplied the main speeches while Fletcher stitched it together. I’m not sure, but as I said before – who cares? I’d rather just sit down and enjoy the play.

Anything else from the post-show? Just that the actors themselves found that they could spot Shakespeare’s work because of how well it read, and how it improved with use. They should know.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

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

Hamlet – April 2006

10/10

By: William Shakespeare

Directed by: Janet Suzman

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Saturday 29th April 2006

This was a brilliant production. All credit to the cast, who had to overcome the recent killing of one of their number on Easter Saturday. They honoured his memory by putting on one of the best performances of Hamlet I have ever seen, and I would willingly see it again.

It took me a little time to get used to some of the accents, but after a while I found it helped my appreciation of the play. Different speech rhythms brought out some aspects of the lines I hadn’t heard before, and although other lines were occasionally lost, overall it led to a richer understanding of the text.

The play was edited in some interesting ways I hadn’t seen before. All the “removing” in the post-ghost scene was itself removed, making for more sensible action. Other cuts were very smooth and I didn’t feel I was missing anything important.

The actors were excellent. Apart from Claudius, who never seemed to get beyond simply saying the lines, there was a wonderful richness and depth to each performance. Gertrude was a suitably doting mother, horrified at what she saw during Hamlet’s diatribe against her second marriage. Ophelia’s mad scenes are often embarrassing to watch; here they tore your heart into little pieces as the poor innocent girl fell apart from all the pressure she was under – we could feel the weight of it all as it carried her to the bottom of the river. Her relationship with Hamlet reminded me more of Romeo and Juliet, and I was never so desperate to see two young lovers overcome the parental obstacles and live happily ever after.

Hamlet himself was possibly the best I’ve seen. He conveyed a sense of youth, grieving, resentment at his lot, intelligence, fluidity, and potential kingliness which was remarkable. His reading of the lines in “to be or not to be”, listing all the difficulties of this world – “the proud man’s contumely”, etc – was the best I have ever heard; each item came across freshly and clearly, and I saw them in my mind’s eye as he spoke. Hamlet’s emotional journey was beautifully evoked, helped in no small measure by the tremendous support from the rest of the cast, especially Ophelia.

The staging was good, with a relatively bare stage most of the time. A ramp led down from the back of the stage to a raised dais, giving plenty of scope for ramparts and other spaces. The trapdoor was also well used. Furniture was brought on and off as required, but without distracting from the play. At the point when Hamlet spotted Claudius, Hamlet was on the upper balcony; he took some time to reach the ground floor, giving Claudius time to settle to his prayers, and Hamlet a chance to have second thoughts. Nicely done.

I also want to praise the players. They performed very well, and there was an unusual touch – the player king actually took on the role of the queen/duchess in the Murder of Gonzago – no doubt because the young lad who had played the female roles had obviously outgrown them! Something else to keep the regular playgoer alert and paying attention.

Not that they needed such tricks. There was a rapturous reception from the audience with three curtain calls required. I left the theatre elated and grateful that I’d been able to witness this production.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me