Review – Hamnet, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 17th May 2023

Posted on May 18, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

Re-opening the Swan Theatre after its pandemic closure is Lolita Chakrabarti’s adaptation of Maggie O’Farrell’s 2020 novel Hamnet, a fictionalised account of the Shakespeare family, based on their son who died aged 11. Like nearly all influential novels of the 21^st century, I haven’t read it, but I daresay you have, gentle reader. And so have many other thousands, otherwise the production wouldn’t have more or less sold out at the Swan even before its opening, gaining at West End transfer at the Garrick at the end of September.

But first things first; let’s have a quick word about the refurbished Swan Theatre. Plunged into darkness by Covid, it’s sprung back refreshed three years later and looks a proper treat. Super-comfortable fold out chairs make it easier to get to your seat and give you a great view of the stage. The upper floors create the impression of luxury teak bannisters and give the whole venue a classy feel. This isn’t the Royal Shakespeare Theatre’s little brother anymore, it’s a fully-fledged grown-up theatre all of its own. Fantastic job!

Maggie O’Farrell’s book transfers smartly to the stage, with a first act that depicts the early days of Will and Agnes’ courtship, her pregnancy with Susanna, their marriage (in that order), the later arrival of the twins Hamnet and Judith, and Will’s ascent in the playwrighting business, requiring him to move to London, keeping the family at home. The second act shows his rise to fame set against the backdrop of family activities and health problems back in Warwickshire. Judith is a sickly kid but Hamnet is a robust, precocious young cove with bags of energy and even more cheek.

SPOILER ALERT! When the Plague hits the village, it makes straight for Judith much to the devoted Hamnet’s horror. Agnes relies on her herbaceous remedies as usual, but the word goes out to Will that he must come home. Terrified that Judith will die, Will rushes home, only to be relieved to find a healthy Judith; but the Plague has taken Hamnet. The subsequent grief and ways in which the family members cope with it form the rest of the play. It’s a strong story, strongly told. Perhaps the first act is a little slow in part, but the second act races through with a growing sense of urgency as we reach the inevitable conclusion.

What’s in a name? asks Shakespeare in Romeo and Juliet and it’s a question that gets a lot of attention in this play. Everyone knows who William Shakespeare is, but who’s this Agnes? Wasn’t he married to Anne Hathaway? Maggie O’Farrell discovered that in her father Richard’s will he names her as “my daughter Agnes”. So maybe Anne was just a shortened form or a pet-name for her; and it’s clearly the goal of both writer and adaptor to put her at the heart of the play, so she’s reinstated in her full Agnes glory. Neither the book nor the play mentions either the names Shakespeare or Hathaway in an attempt to leave their reputations behind and just portray them as an ordinary rural couple; thus they’re both only ever Agnes and Will.

And as for Hamnet; apparently it was a local variant on the name Hamlet, so when Will’s renowned tragedy of the same name appeared a few years after his son’s death, it was quickly assumed that the choice of name was clearly influenced by the lad. And it may well have been simply that obvious; or, it may be that Shakespeare took the name from the Scandinavian legend of Amleth, whose fortunes and adventures are clearly the source for Will’s eponymous tragic hero. Taking his son’s name in vain, without clearing it with Agnes first? Honouring the memory of his son in what would probably be thought of as his finest piece of writing? Or pure coincidence? Audience: you decide.

There is a little imbalance between the two acts; they almost feel like they’re telling two different stories. To help connect the two, Hamnet and Judith appear in spirit form in the first act, which adds to a sense of dramatic irony; we know the boy’s going to die soon and they don’t even know he’s going to be born yet. I thoroughly enjoyed the overlay of Will’s London theatricals on top of the crises happening back home; rehearsing the death of Tybalt whilst the Plague has hit the family, unable to control his temper during the final scenes of Comedy of Errors – and I thought it was a very nice trick to have the same actor play both Hamnet and Thomas, the boy actor who is struggling with the girls’ roles, emphasising how the two halves of Will’s life interweave.

It’s extremely well-acted throughout, but particularly by the main two actors, Madeleine Mantock as Agnes, and Tom Varey as Will. Ms Mantock plays Agnes full of spark as a girl and a young woman, which turns into strong, courageous resilience as the horrors of losing a child completely shape the rest of her life. Tom Varey’s Will also has a cheeky spark as a young man, that develops into a kind of maturity as he gets older, although of course he’s not averse to going out drinking with his theatrical buddies.

Peter Wight is excellent as John, Will’s gruff and impatient father, disapproving of everything his wayward son gets up to – and by association, with the rest of his family. He also entertains as the larger-than-life actor Will Kempe, all wind and ad-lib; very nice. There’s great support from Elizabeth Rider as Will’s hardworking mother Mary, Harmony Rose-Bremner as the grumpy Susanna, and Sarah Belcher’s vindictive Joan, Agnes’s stepmother.

I really enjoyed Alex Jarrett’s performance as Judith; her brief speech about what do you call a twin whose other twin has died was possibly the most poignant moment of the whole production. What’s in a name? again. And it’s a very believable and winning performance from Ajani Cabey as Hamnet/Thomas, both sprightly and spritely, running rings around his mother and sisters, and hopelessly devoted to Judith.

A very enjoyable sideways glance at a family you think you know a little bit about but who in fact are largely anonymous to us today. Plenty of relevance to the present time, and an ultimately very rewarding evening at the theatre. Catch it at the Garrick from September 30^th to January 6^th if you’re too late to see it in Stratford!

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Birthday Party, Harold Pinter Theatre, 17th February 2018

Posted on February 20, 2018 by therealchrisparkle

Do you remember doing your A-levels, gentle reader? If you had the…pleasure…of that experience, you won’t have forgotten it. Staying up half the night cramming in essays on everything left right and centre – well for me it was English, French and German, but that’s not the point. We knew that one of the A level papers in English would have a question on Harold Pinter. Our teacher took us through The Caretaker, and I voluntarily read The Homecoming – but didn’t understand it of course. We also read, in class, The Birthday Party, and our teacher suggested we should write an essay on it for homework, but he wasn’t going to insist on it. We already had enough on our plate.

But I was entranced by The Birthday Party and started an essay on it at 7pm which I finished at 1am. I had no idea where I was going with it but I just felt the need to express my reaction to it. I handed it in, hoping that the labour of love would get me some brownie points. But I got more than that. The teacher marked me a straight alpha for it, read it out to all the other classes, and told everyone “here is a man who really loves his subject.” I’ll never forget that. And I got a Grade B in English A level!

This was Pinter’s first full-length play, originally staged in 1958 when it ran for a dynamic eight performances, no doubt curtailed because of the savaging it received from the critics. Only Harold Hobson in The Sunday Times (always the most reliable observer of drama of his age) recognised Pinter’s talent and saw in the play what others failed to see. Since then it’s had precious few revivals in the UK and I’ve been waiting for a chance to see it for over forty years. Hurrah that Ian Rickson’s production has arrived at the Comedy (I mean Harold Pinter – appropriately) Theatre, and I could not wait to book.

How the memories came flooding back. On the written page it’s very hard to get a feel for this play. Just how menacing is it? (Very.) Just how funny is it? (Surprisingly, quite a lot.) What does it mean? (Now you’re asking….) Here’s the bare bones: Stanley (morose, unkempt, petulant, seedy) has been staying at Meg and Petey’s seaside boarding house for a year now. Petey is a deck chair attendant so is out all day and in all weathers (although who sits on a deckchair in the rain?) which leaves Meg the run of the house, doing the cleaning and the cooking and generally looking after Stanley. He is their only guest. So is he really a bona fide boarding house guest, or just a figment of their imagination, a son figure to complete an otherwise empty family set-up?

Shattering the status quo, two mysterious men, Goldberg and McCann, arrive, looking for a place to stay. Meg is unsure at first, but they’re gentlemanly and flattering and win her over with ease. But what of their relationship with Stanley? It seems like he knows who they are. It seems like they know who he is. And what appears to be at first polite, distant dealings with him turn into haranguing, menacing, threatening interrogations that he cannot cope with. It’s also, apparently, Stanley’s birthday (although he denies it) and a party is scheduled for 9pm that night. What could possibly go wrong?

You could analyse this play for a year and a day and still not come up with anything like a this is what this play is about statement. But that’s the point. Pinter delights in contradiction and obfuscation. Characters say one thing and do another. They assume several identities. Symbols like Stanley’s missing piano or his toy drum take on a force of their own and challenge you to apply reason to them. But if a clear meaning did emerge, Pinter would have had to go back to the drawing board and start again. The audience is a vital part of the production as they fill in some of the gaps in an attempt to make some sense of what’s going on. But there will always be gaps when watching this play, and my suggestion is simply to revel in them.

The curtain rises to the Quay Brothers’ meticulously realised set; grimy wallpaper peeling from the walls, dark brown wooden panelling that needs updating, dumpy comfortless furniture that reflects the harsh reality of the household. Their costume design is also perfect for the time, location and characters: Stanley’s soiled pyjama top; Meg’s dowdy pinny and dress; Goldberg and McCann’s formal business suits; Lulu and Meg’s glamorous party outfits. For a play and production that relies on high impact lighting cues, Hugh Vanstone’s lighting design works perfectly, from the effect when Stanley strikes a match, the sunlight that comes in from the door that illuminates Stanley’s profile to the shock of the blackout and its subsequent revelations. There’s so much in the background to admire in this production.

Then you have six tremendous performances that really get to the heart of the text, two of which come under the “perfect casting” heading. Toby Jones is chillingly good as Stanley, a fantastic portrayal of this lethargic lump of barely concealed neuroses, pathetically pretending to a greater existence in his past whilst all too closely fearing for his own mortality. No one does “wretched” quite like Mr Jones and he was absolutely born to play this role. And Zoe Wanamaker gives a masterclass performance as the under-achieving, suggestible Meg, waxing lyrical about those lovely flakes and affecting shock but actually aroused when Stanley calls her succulent. Like Shirley Valentine, Meg has had such a little life, and Ms Wanamaker makes you feel her character long ago stopped trying to break out of it. Her “belle of the ball” moments are genuinely moving, as is Petey’s attempt to protect her from bad news at the end of the play – some great characterisation from Peter Wight there in what you might otherwise think is just a filler character. No line is wasted in a Pinter play.

Stephen Mangan and Tom Vaughan-Lawlor are excellent as Goldberg and McCann but a complete contrast from how I would have imagined them. In my mind’s eye Goldberg is almost a stereotype east-end Jew, probably lifted from a not very PC sitcom from the 1970s – very Sydney Tafler-esque (whom I note played Goldberg in the 1968 film which I didn’t even know existed). I’ve always thought of McCann as a thuggish Irish navvy-type; the kind who’d wallop you with a spade and then ask questions afterwards. These imaginary characterisations in my head are so different from the realistic, true to life performances on offer in this production. Mr Mangan gives every one of Goldberg’s lines a weight and resonance that I hadn’t known was there before. This makes the character more sinister and threatening – even before he starts becoming sinister and threatening. You can see in Mr Mangan’s eyes how Goldberg is plotting his every move in a chess game where Stanley can never occupy a safe square.

Mr Vaughan-Lawlor’s McCann is more cerebral than thuggish, in a linguistic fencing match where he forces Stanley into a position where Goldberg can go in for the kill. His newspaper-tearing torture, which I had always felt evoked the sound of bones breaking, is actually more like an attack on the mind than the body and is carried out with such intimidating concentration that it made me feel queasy. The two actors work together so well on their combined verbal attacks on Stanley, with beautifully orchestrated and executed delivery so that the poor man is powerless to protect himself. Completing the sextet is a spirited and likeable portrayal of Lulu by Pearl Mackie, the free-thinking outsider who gets caught in Stanley and Goldberg’s cat and mouse game and pays the price.

This is a simply brilliant production that really brings Pinter’s text to life and surprises you with its humour, its anarchy and its sheer menace. You don’t need to be a Drama or English student to enjoy this one. Seriously impressive and highly recommended.