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Review – Middlemarch Parts One and Two, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 31st October 2026

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The Casaubons

©Johan Persson

George Eliot’s Middlemarch is considered one of the finest novels in the English language. As an English undergraduate, I remember buying the chunky Penguin paperback and starting to read it – and it became one of those many books that I started and never finished. Not because I wasn’t enjoying it, but because I simply didn’t have the time. Have you seen how many pages it is??

George Eliot

©Johan Persson

It occurred to me as I was reading it all those years ago, that if George Eliot had been writing in the 1970s, she would probably have been a scriptwriter on TV’s Crossroads. I appreciate that will be an unconventional and probably unwelcome opinion. What, however, is welcome, is to watch the RSC’s two-part adaptation at the Swan Theatre, to see for oneself just how good a book it is, without having to read it! Decades ago, their outstanding and equally long Nicholas Nickleby, adapted by David Edgar, made me determined to read Dickens’ original. Would Nina Raine’s new version do the same for Middlemarch?

Dorothea and Celia

©Johan Persson

Adapting such a major and well-known work for the stage is fraught with problems; perhaps none bigger than the fact that, as with nearly all novels, it starts small and grows as its threads, characters, themes, events all develop. As a result, Middlemarch Part One is expository, introducing characters, setting scenes, creating relationships. Dramatically, it’s limited. If this were indeed a soap opera, don’t expect much from the end of episode cliffhangers – they’re just not that exciting.

Cast

©Johan Persson

If ever it was vital to see the two parts in chronological order, it’s with Middlemarch. Indeed, if (like me) you didn’t know the story and only booked to see Part One, I think you’d go home feeling very short-changed. However, see both parts on the same day and all the work you put in for the matinee pays dividends in the evening. Everything falls into place, situations that were left hanging are resolved, and there’s even a happy ending. George Eliot can look back and say that her work here is done. That’s because she is a constant presence throughout the whole six hours, introducing the story, acting as a narrator, and casting an affectionate, proprietorial eye over the proceedings.

Dorothea and George Eliot

©Johan Persson

But she’s more than that. There’s always a forceful power when a work of art grapples with its own creative process. John Fowles’ French Lieutenant’s Woman is a prime example, both in novel and film form, where the creation of the work is as important a dimension as the work itself. On a (maybe) lesser level, think of Spandau Ballet despairingly asking Why do I find it hard to write the next line? in the pursuit of defining whatever it is that is True. In Nina Raine’s adaptation, George Eliot becomes almost a life coach in Middlemarch, helping her characters find ways out of their predicaments, criticising their behaviour but also having to defend herself against her portrayals (Rosamond rounding on Eliot saying you don’t think much of me do you is a fantastically meta moment). Many’s the time when Eliot doesn’t have the answer and her facial expressions as performed by Amanda Root simply suggest let’s play it out and see what happens. This creative device is either going to endear you to the production or alienate you. For my part, I loved it.

Set dominating Rosamond

©Johan Persson

Grace Smart’s set truly excels with a blank stage surface but with hidden secrets beneath a myriad of traps. Open a trap and you never know what lies under there; it’s as unpredictable as a nineteenth century provincial advent calendar. The set also features a series of vaulted arches high above the stage, suggesting a church or a town hall, two aspects of life which would dominate smalltown society in the Victorian age. I confess it’s only in retrospect that I appreciate the appropriateness of the overhanging arches; whilst watching the plays, I didn’t feel that the plot and subject matter sufficiently dovetailed with the overriding sense of religion that these arches convey. True, the plays are bookended with candles and hymn-like singing, but this element of spiritualism fades as we get into the meat of the story.

Ladislaw

©Johan Persson

In fact, what primarily comes across from the text and performance is a world of financial management and mismanagement, the growth in understanding medicine, and the will to reform politics – debt, doctors and democracy in fact. It’s how Eliot’s characters cope with this changing world that gives the work its spark. They are real people, handling the devastation of unexpected poverty, disastrous marriage, alienation and the fear that your sins will find you out. This all bubbles beneath the surface of the behavioural requirements of polite society; and this production expresses that conflict between a brave public face and private disaster beautifully.

Mr and Mrs Garth

©Johan Persson

The marvellous cast, many of them playing several roles, handle this mammoth task superbly. Amanda Root is exquisite as Eliot, creating a conduit between the audience and the characters, probing, questioning and cajoling her creations to make sense of their choices and motivations. Nia Towle is mesmerising as Dorothea, the very definition of an upright citizen as her high aspirations lead her into a calamitous marriage that will continue to blight her even into widowhood. Lizzie Annis is delightfully guileless as both Celia and Mary, delicately bringing out the comic potential of both characters. Ian Drysdale is superbly withering as the humourless, selfish Casaubon, and marvellously open and generous as the moral Caleb.

The auction scene

©Johan Persson

Peter Forbes is hilarious as the blustering Brooke, and truly sinister as the malignant Raffles, Emma McDonald invests Rosamond with a very believable sense of entitlement and vanity without ever making her a pantomime villain, and Gunnar Cauthery is superb as the posh Sir James and heart-on-his-sleeve Farebrother. His moment of realisation that he stands no chance with Mary is exceptional. Rory Alexander gives us a feckless but likeable Ladislaw, dithering his way through life, Andrew Richardson is great as the principled but emotionally rudderless Lydgate, and John Hodgkinson is outstanding as the cold, calculating Bulstrode, and steals every scene as the outrageously positive Trumbull. In a production full of serious, demanding scenes, Mr Hodgkinson plays a lively part in the two brilliantly funny scenes – the will reading and the auction, both of which warrant the ticket price.

Fred and Mary

©Johan Persson

Ebenezer Gyau is also terrific as the lazy and irresponsible wastrel Fred, lamenting his bad luck and failed schemes whilst carrying off all the elegance of someone who’s never done a day’s work in his life. Penny Layden brings wonderful characterisations to all six of her roles, and there’s superb support from Anita Reynolds as the hearty Mrs Vincy and accidental murderer Mrs Abel. There isn’t the slightest suggestion of a weak link throughout the whole cast.

Brooke and Ladislaw

©Johan Persson

Overall, as a theatrical experience, the excellence of Part Two doesn’t quite make up for the perhaps inevitable dramatic sparseness of Part One. But patience is a virtue and once this dramatisation fully gets going there’s no stopping it. And, yes, when I got home, I downloaded Middlemarch onto my kindle, which must be a good sign. The production continues at the Swan Theatre until 16th January.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 3rd September 2024

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I’ve come to the conclusion that the world consists of two types of people; those who understand spy stories, and those who don’t. Much as I would like to be part of that first group, I fear I’m one of the latter. I’ve never read a John Le Carré novel, and I never got into all that Tinker Tailer Soldier Spy stuff on TV either. So I am probably the wrong demographic to comment on Chichester’s new production of The Spy Who Came In From The Cold. But when did that ever stop me before?

Le Carré, of course, was a real spy (don’t worry, I’m not the first to blow his cover) so one can only assume that everything in the books – and indeed as portrayed in this stage adaptation by David Eldrige – is pretty realistic. Worn out agent Alec Leamas is given one last job by his control – to return to East Germany, where he had been “our man”, and pose as a defector. However his real job is to frame one Hans-Dieter Mundt, ex-Stasi officer and head of the Abteilung, as a double agent. Naturally, things don’t go according to plan.

Jeremy Herrin’s crisp production looks suitably bleak and comfortless from the outset, with Riemeck’s upturned bike representing its owner’s early departure from this world. George Smiley stands aloof for much of the play, observing the activity below from a balcony, where he has presumably gone to retire (clue – he hasn’t retired.) The sets and props are minimalist, allowing our imaginations to fill in the gaps. Ominous, frequently threatening background music composed by Paul Englishby adds to the unsettling atmosphere.

David Eldrige’s script assumes a basic knowledge of the world of Smiley, which I clearly don’t have. I appreciated and enjoyed the introductory scene where the various characters are introduced with their political backgrounds and how they feature in the story landscape. But terms like Praesidium and Circus and Abteilung meant nothing to me, and although you can make a good guess as to their relevance, I felt I was backfooted from the start, and mentally constantly running to keep up with my understanding of what was going on.

There are time changes in the story too, which don’t help when you’re already somewhat at sea. Fortunately, I don’t feel too bad about that, because judging from the overheard comments of other theatregoers at the end of the show, I was far from the only one to have only a slight grip on exactly what happened; once I had read the Wikipedia synopsis of the book so much more of it made sense – but surely, that shouldn’t be necessary? However, there’s no doubt that the adaptation succeeds in emphasising the amorality of this spy world, and the double-crossing continues right until the very end.

Rory Keenan is excellent as Leamas throughout. Down-at-heel, down-at-heart, cynical through and through; he’s exactly how you would expect a world-weary spy to look and behave. Ian Drysdale is also great as Control – if this was James Bond, I think he would be M – effortlessly polite, ruthlessly persistent, concealing a vicious interior beneath a gentlemanly façade. The ever-reliable Philip Arditti is great as Fiedler, Mundt’s second in command, especially in the courtroom scene. And Agnes O’Casey is a very believable Liz, the proudly communist librarian who gets entangled in a love affair with Leamas.

For me it was a production that asked more questions than it answered. I’ve no idea why, for example, for most of the play some of the characters were seated at the back of the stage waiting for entrances whilst others weren’t. And although I was always engrossed by what was going on, that’s possibly because of the top quality acting and cat-and-mouse conversations rather than anything to do with the plot itself. If you’re a Smiley aficionado, you’ll love it; if you’re a Le Carré virgin, read a synopsis before seeing the show – it will help.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Backstairs Billy, Duke of York’s Theatre, London, 27th December 2023

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Every year for the last ten years – apart from in 2020, *obvs* – we’ve taken a trip to the capital for a few nights between Christmas and New Year to take in some shows and hit the London sales. And our first target of the 2023 season was Marcelo Dos Santos’ Backstairs Billy, a refreshingly amusing couple of hours spent in the company of the Queen Mother, her faithful servant and a couple of racing corgis. Dos Santos’ Feeling Afraid as if Something Terrible is Going to Happen was one of the big hits of 2022’s Edinburgh Fringe so I was keen to see some more of his work.

William Tallon – or Billy to his friends – was recruited into the Royal Household at the age of fifteen, and twenty-seven years later became Page of the Backstairs in Clarence House, a position he held until the Queen Mother’s death in 2002. The play is primarily set in 1979, and we see Billy taking complete charge of the minutiae of the Queen Mother’s daily living – her entertaining guests, her planning her day, her deciding what to eat, and so on. We also see how he gets on with the Queen Mother’s secretary (not very well) and other members of staff over whom he holds great sway. It’s a way of life that works well for both page and royal, but when a gentleman caller by the name of Ian becomes something of a tricky overnight guest, relations with the QM also get a little strained.

It’s an enjoyable play with nicely drawn characters – even the minor ones – that makes you both laugh and – not quite cry, but you do feel sadness coming through from time to time. It escalates to some moments of unexpected and delightful farce, such as when an artwork, which is unmistakably a dildo, keeps cropping up in unwanted and royal hands. Ian masquerading as the Prince of Lesotho provides a very funny scene of mistaken identity which is played beautifully. And there’s also a very poignant scene with the ageing Lady Adeline who can’t understand where Bertie has gone, much to everyone’s nicely handled awkwardness.

But this isn’t all just drawing-room comedy; there is a dark side to the play, which I didn’t feel was either fully believable or comfortable to watch. The Queen Mother has her own way of taking Billy down a peg or two and showing him who’s boss. When his gay escapades start to intrude on the integrity and indeed security of the Royal Household, and she appears publicly to disapprove of his wanton sexual behaviour, she punishes him with a pretty revolting task designed purely to humiliate him. However, we’ve already seen her when they were both younger, back in 1952, when Billy first came into her service, encouraging him to wear a Royal tiara and necklace and to explore in his gayness. In modern parlance, she groomed him; and there’s a significant disconnect between her treatment of Billy then and in 1979. If this is meant to show that her own attitudes to homosexuality have changed over the years, it doesn’t work; it comes across as simply inconsistent.

You can absolutely believe that we are in the Garden Room at Clarence House with Christopher Oram’s stunning set – immaculately tasteful and regal, and with a huge amount of consideration going into the positions of the floral bouquets. Tom Rand’s costumes for the Queen Mum are elegant, practical and are precisely how you would expect her to have dressed at home. In fact, all aspects of the production are superbly done.

Penelope Wilton leads the cast as the Queen Mother and it’s a role in which she revels. You get the feeling that the QM is so used to public life that she never really has a private moment in which to be herself; it’s a delicate, measured, considered portrayal, with no words ever out of place or wrongly delivered, even when she’s talking to herself. And of course Dame Penelope has terrific timing that beautifully exploits all the comic possibilities of the script. She is matched by Luke Evans as Billy, an imposing, authoritative stage presence who flips perfectly from being the respectful servant to the intimidating boss with ease, and always with a touch of flamboyance.

Iwan Davies is excellent as new household recruit Gwydion, all nervous hunched shoulders and painfully out of his depth, Ian Drysdale is also superb as the no-nonsense secretary Mr Kerr, always on hand to reprimand Billy for any misjudgements, and there are great supporting performances from all the cast, especially Eloka Ivo as the unpredictable Ian and Ilan Galkoff as the wet-behind-the-ears but keen young Billy.

A crowd-pleaser of a show that looks absolutely perfect in all respects and tickles our memories and any preconceptions we may have had of the Queen Mother, more than twenty years after her death. Terrific performances, and Mr Dos Santos is rapidly becoming a playwright to seek out.

 

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!