Katie Wimpenny Archives - The Real Chrisparkle

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!

The first of two Shakespeare plays to be staged at the Sheffield Crucible this autumn, Titas Halder’s production of King Lear boasts the must-see billing of Ian McDiarmid as the foolish fond old king. This is an intelligent, stark production, more cerebral than emotional, acted on a largely blank stage with just a round sunken pit in the centre, surrounded by earth. Nevertheless, it’s visually powerful, with an inventive and effective lighting design by Ryan Day, functional costumes by Richard Kent, and an eerie soundscape by Emma Laxton. Indeed, it’s remarkable what an atmosphere can be created by the right combination of smoke, light and pea shingle.

Despite its being five minutes short of three hours, the plot moves at a cracking pace, and the clarity of the storytelling is outstanding. The characterisations are, for the most part, strong and memorable, and the acting is superb. McDiarmid’s Lear is a sarcastic, entitled bighead, quick to ire, with a withering tone of voice that could make even the most virtuous of daughters flinch. When Cordelia refuses to play the adoration game (an assertive, no-nonsense performance from Bebe Sanders) this Lear isn’t merely disappointed and disapproving; he truly despises every inch of her being.

After being outwitted by a Goneril and Regan more power-hungry than he could have imagined, his descent into madness is structured, logical, and totally believable. His snide, mocking personality becomes pathetic and pitiful; but because he was such a difficult man when he had his wits about him, it’s hard to feel sorry for him. It’s much more of a study of how a fool can give away his power by trusting people who are not to be trusted. One’s sympathies are much more extended to Mark Holgate’s noble and faithful Kent, David Birrell’s easily duped Gloucester, and a truly upstanding Albany played by Milo Twomey.

Katie Wimpenny and Justina Kehinde are both exceptional as Goneril and Regan; in particular, Ms Kehinde’s unhinged glee at plucking out Gloucester’s eyes is a remarkable portrayal of the visceral pleasure by one ghoulish monster at the total domination of their victim. Both are keenly attracted to Fode Simbo’s Edmund, another intelligent, credible, and unsensational portrayal of a man who (as he sees it) is simply trying to get what he feels is rightly his – and not remotely concerned about who gets hurt in the process. There’s one more absolutely superb performance – Max Revell as the Fool, whose every move mimics and scorns Lear’s own movements, creating some extraordinary, contorted shapes in a remarkable physical performance.

Arresting from the start, this is a stunning, engrossing and totally lucid production, full of fine performances and intense atmosphere. You won’t shed a tear for Lear and Cordelia, but you will make the conscious decision never to give all to your daughters.

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!