Following on from last month’s fantastic King Lear, and with the same cast apart from a change of “star performer”, Jamie Glover’s Twelfth Night is nothing if not ecologically sound, keeping the same set as Lear except that they’ve shovelled up the pea shingle to adorn someone’s driveway. Why not? Consequently, the only hint of colour in the set is from the golden globe in the backdrop representing, I presume, the sun, which deftly switches to a very atmospheric moon during the early (and superbly realised) shipwreck scene.
Otherwise, if you’re looking for colour, you have to fall back on some of the costumes. The majority are in black and white, save Olivia’s stunning green dress, Orsino’s plush red outfit and, of course, Malvolio’s fabulous yellow cross-gartered stockings. For music, we have three strolling musicians who occasionally come on to accompany David Birrell’s Feste. I’m used to Feste being quite a young, jocund chap, but this Feste is middle-aged, tends towards the morose and is thoroughly cynical, and his songs very much echo Orsino’s dying fall observation. A fascinating and well-performed characterisation; but I felt that the music didn’t help the play along at all, and simply introduced a few lulls and longueurs, pausing the action when we really all just wanted to get on with it.
This is one of those awkward productions when the sum of all its parts didn’t add up to the whole. No question, it’s a fantastic cast, none more fantastic than Matthew Horne’s Malvolio, a performance of sheer quality. Prissy of speech and pedantic of gesture, you instantly get why everyone else in the household despises him; anyone would. Matthew Horne’s verbal delivery of the role is as exquisite as you hope for; if you only associate him with sitcom-land, this performance is a true revelation.
In particular, his cross-gartered scene is brilliant, with the character engaging in a newly found sexually charged identity, including just the right level of outrageous physical comedy. But the antics of his three onlookers, Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian, with whom you usually laugh along, here just seem peripheral and, frankly, a bit of a nuisance. When Malvolio is duped and thrown into jail, and in his final scene where he swears vengeance on them all, it’s one of those occasions where you really identify with him and are truly uncomfortable about how badly he has been treated.
Other strong performances come from Katie Wimpenny as a very chirpy and believable Maria, James Chetwood as a genuinely funny (rather than slightly embarrassing) Sir Andrew Aguecheek, and Harry Redding as Sebastian. Mark Holgate divests the character of Antonio with the same level of nobility that he displayed as Kent in Lear, and Bebe Sanders carries much of the play with a very intelligent portrayal of Viola. And Justina Kehinde really comes into her own once Olivia abandons her mourning and vivaciously begins fancying Cesario.
All these excellent performances, yet the feeling that overwhelms you about the whole production is that it’s a little bland, a little tame. Some cutting of the text means the show proceeds quite quickly (pausing for songs notwithstanding) but that also means scenes stop and start regularly and it doesn’t have a natural flow. A full Friday matinee audience didn’t laugh much, especially in the first Act; and, overall, I just wanted more.
Three-sy Does It!