Tag Archives: RSC

Review – Pericles, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 10th September 2024

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There aren’t many Shakespearean plays that one misses out on during a lifetime of theatregoing, but Pericles is likely to be one. I’d never seen this play before, and, indeed hadn’t looked at the text for at least 45 years. But there’s no doubt this is a fascinating play – rarely can the old phrase “from the sublime to the ridiculous” be so appropriate concerning the pen of our Beloved Bard.

Alfred EnochWith more episodes and locations than your average picaresque novel, we follow the fortunes of Pericles as he leaves Tyre (where he is Prince) to sail to Antioch, where he hopes to marry the unnamed Princess of that city state. To win her hand, he must answer a riddle; failure to answer it results in death. Pericles solves it in an instant, but making the solution public also results in death – bit of a Catch-22 there, probably a riddle worth avoiding. Therefore he flees Antioch before he can be murdered. Next, he reaches Tarsus, stopping by to offer food to the famine-stricken city; shipwrecked on leaving Tarsus, he lands in Pentapolis, where King Simonides is allowing the winner of a jousting contest to marry his daughter Thaisa. Naturally our hero wins the contest, and Thaisa’s hand. But all is not well; sailing back to Tyre, they are shipwrecked (again) and Thaisa dies giving birth to a daughter, Marina. Following tradition, Thaisa’s body is placed in a coffin and cast off into the waters, never to be seen again. Or is she…?

AntiochusThat’s enough storytelling to fill a book and we’ve only just reached the interval. Pericles must be the direct opposite of Waiting for Godot, where, famously, nothing happens. Here, everything that could possibly happen, happens. However, the early scenes of the play – up till Pericles’ arrival in Pentapolis – are (there’s no point beating about the bush) absolutely awful. Not, I hasten to add, because of the RSC’s production, Tamara Harvey’s direction or the company’s acting; it’s simply the words with which they have to grapple.

Pericles aloftIt is largely believed that the play is a collaboration between Shakespeare and An Other Writer; Shakespeare wrote the good bits and AOW did the rest. The mystery man is likely to be George Wilkins, an innkeeper, criminal and pamphleteer, and an associate of the King’s Men acting company, hence his familiarity with Shakespeare and his work. The language in those opening scenes is flat but garbled; intractably impersonating the florid style of the silver poets who had gone before, but falling far short of the standard required. Fortunately, the use of judicious cuts combined with the happy circumstance that Pericles is one of Shakespeare’s shortest works, means we can get on with the decent meat of the play after about half an hour or so.

SimonidesThe average Collected Shakespeare will list the play as one of the comedies. But there is some tough material here: incest, kidnapping to be sold into prostitution, death during childbirth; frankly, not a lot to laugh at. However, these elements are balanced with some truly engaging scenes and performances, resulting in many feelgood moments and comic sequences. The highlight of the production is King Simonides’ not-so-secret machinations to engineer a marriage between Thaisa and Pericles, a blissfully funny performance by Christian Patterson. All the scenes set in the brothel prickle with danger and corruption; and if you love a happy ending, I can’t think of a bigger jump from despair to elation than that experienced by Pericles in Act Five.

The ropes that bindJonathan Fensom’s simple set is dominated by ropes, suspended and intertwining; a perfect choice for a play where so many scenes are set at sea. Claire van Kampen’s evocative music is delicately and moving played by Elinor Peregrin’s team of five musicians, strong on woodwind and percussion. The text has been smartly cut and revised so that what remains of Gower’s chorus-type introductions to each act have been given to Marina, even before the audience realises it is she who is speaking. There’s only one directorial decision that jars; the artificial and showy use of hands aloft by the background ensemble. Perhaps it’s meant to recreate the dumbshows of the original text; whatever, it just looks silly. Stop it.

Rachelle DiedericksAlfred Enoch gives a compelling performance as Pericles; a truly noble character who rises above all his misfortunes to remain magnanimous, honest and beneficent. Mr Enoch embodies these virtues throughout the play with his clarity of interpretation, physical agility and the sheer emotion of that final scene. As his long lost Marina, the ever-reliable Rachelle Diedericks is a chip off the old block, conveying the essence of purity and decency, pleading her case for survival with lucid clarity. There are also excellent performances from Philip Bird as the super-reasonable Helicanus, Christian Patterson as the excitable Simonides, Leah Haile as the modest Thaisa, Kel Matsena as the noble Lysimachus and Alfred EnochJacqueline Boatswain as the kindly Cerimon and a truly villainous Bawd, matched with an equally vicious Pander played by Felix Hayes.

An excellent opportunity to see a rarely performed Shakespeare; not exactly a masterpiece but containing some of his best characterisations and individual scenes. After Pericles leaves Stratford on 21 September, it transfers to the Chicago Shakespeare Theater from 20 October.

Production Photos by Johan Persson

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – As You Like It, Royal Shakespeare Company at The Holloway Garden Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 24th July 2024

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Tucked behind the main Royal Shakespeare Theatre building and constructed on the gardens by the river you can currently find the Holloway Garden Theatre, first opened in 2021 as a way of Getting Theatre Back in those miserable Covid times, and now freshly renewed for a summer season of As You Like It, the perfect outdoors play, in a brand new production directed by Brendan O’Hea.

CompanyThe perfect outdoors play? Yes, because apart from a few introductory scenes in Duke Frederick’s Court, it all takes place in the Forest of Arden, a mere hop skip and a jump from Stratford-upon-Avon; although I’m not sure lionesses ever roamed Sheep Street as they do in this particular Forest. But the play is awash with woodland glades, notes pinned on trees, shepherds and shepherdesses, and exiled gentry living the country life as best they can. Odd, perhaps, then, that Liam Bunster’s set doesn’t give one nod to greenery or flora, but instead is a rather sterile blue wooden affair that looks more like a packing crate than a grassy nook. In fact, there’s no “scenery” as such, nor indeed “furniture” anywhere to be seen – so at least that allows us the audience to use our imagination to create our own personal Ardens.

Celia and RosalindNormally, with an RSC production, you can tell from the start that the director has a vision for the play – whether it be transplanting it to a different era or location, or discovering insights due to some creative gender-swapping, or promoting a theme from within the text to give it some extra depth. There’s no obvious vision for this production; and, at 85 minutes without a break it sometimes feels its main purpose is just to get to the end as quickly as possible. To be fair, there is some argument for doing that with an open-air production; if the weather changes at the Holloway Garden Theatre, there is no hiding place from wind and rain apart from whatever coats you brought or a classy RSC rain poncho.

Audrey and TouchstoneThis is a distinctly shortened version; and whatever benefits that brings – concentrating on the main thrust of the plot and, dare I say it, Shakespeare’s Best Bits – inevitably it suffers in other ways. One of the cuts is to remove some of Touchstone’s pontifications; personally, I think that’s a shame, as I rather like his wordy comings and goings. Part of the charm of the play is the balance between the Courtiers and the Country dwellers; in this production, the Countryfolk distinctly play second fiddle and at times you feel the production rather ignores them. A good example of this is how, because of the doubling-up of roles, Touchstone and Audrey’s marriage is sidelined in the final nuptial scene; so there are three couples, not four, at the end. This creates an imbalance and doesn’t give equal weight to their relationship. Another side effect of rattling through the play is that some of the plot developments seem to happen extremely suddenly, making what is already a slightly unbelievable plot even more unbelievable at times.

AmiensThere are, however, some splendid aspects of this production. Nearly all the cast also play instruments throughout the show and this device fits seamlessly into the text. The play has a number of songs, which frequently today come across as archaic and somewhat out of place. However, Catherine Jayes’ music is totally beguiling and beautiful, and with the entrancing and evocative voice of Natasha Magigi as Amiens, this is the best music in a Shakespearean context I’ve heard for decades.

Also, for no apparent reason, apart from the sheeDuke and Jaquesr fun of it, many of the cast use strong local accents for their characters; so we have a Geordie Jaques, a Brummie Duke Senior, and an Irish Celia. Somehow, these accents add to the musicality of the production, and certainly give an extra dimension to the comedy of the play.

CeliaThe performances are universally excellent. Letty Thomas is everything you would expect from a Rosalind; and especially in her role of Ganymede leads Orlando a merry dance of humiliation in her encouragement of him to be more upfront with his wooing. Christina Tedders’ Celia is outstanding, making much more of the role than usual – full of fun and enthusiasm, giving Celia a real personality. Luke Brady is also superb as Orlando; having injured his ankle, Mr Brady played the part seated at the side of the stage – a true trouper indeed – and it’s a credit to his perfectly pitched performance that the production lost nothing as a result. This did, of course, lead to an unexpectedly humorous sequence where Orlando wrestles Charles; the sight of Peter Dukes playing the swaggering chap in a deftly choreographed sequence of one-sided wrestling holds will stay with all of us for a long time, I suggest. Mr Dukes is also excellent as the exiled Duke, serenely conveying his character’s ability to maintain courtly standards in an unforgiving environment.

OrlandoChris Nayak gives two great performances as the usurping Duke and the wetly forlorn Silvius, and Trevor Fox is an authoritatively melancholy Jaques – strongly emphasising the character’s cynicism. Duncan Wisbey creates a light-footed and physically cheeky Touchstone the clown, and Susannah van den Berg gives great support as Le Beau and Audrey.

Charles the Wrestler and the Usurping DukeThis is a basic production – in the sense that it doesn’t highlight any special aspects or themes, or transport us to another time and place; this is firmly Shakespearean, set on a Wooden O. If the idea behind it is to provide a decent introduction to the Bard for children or Shakespeare-newbies, then I judge this a success. However, if you know the play well and you’re looking for some hidden depths, you might be disappointed. The production continues, with regular 2pm and 5pm performances, at the Holloway Garden Theatre until 1st September.

Production photos by Marc Brenner

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – The School for Scandal, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 9th July 2024

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In these modern days of social media and tabloid press, we tend to think that celebrity gossip is a relatively recent phenomenon. But no! Almost 250 years ago that bright spark Richard Brinsley Sheridan captured the essence of tittle and tattle in his evergreen comedy The School for Scandal, which receives a timely and welcome revival this summer at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre. At the time, Sheridan was riding high on the success of his previous play, The Rivals, and had bought the Drury Lane Theatre from David Garrick and could fill it with his choice of plays and his choice of actors. Think of it as a bit like the government stacking the House of Lords but with arty types.

Lady and Sir Peter TeazleIt was this kind of gossip-based, satirical lampooning that originally brought about the censorship of plays. Henry Fielding’s Historical Register for the year 1736 was the last straw for Prime Minister Robert Walpole, who could take being teased no more, so in came censorship in an attempt to restrain the wit of the current crop of playwrights. Luckily for us, in 1777, the Deputy Examiner of Plays and puritanical Shakespeare fan, Edward Capell, disapproved of The School for Scandal, and wanted it banned. But the Lord Chamberlain at the time, Lord Hertford, overruled him – and that was just as well; how much poorer our lives would have been without the escapades of Sir Peter Teazle and the gossip of Lady Sneerwell.

Lady Sneerwell courtedI’m sure you know the story, but, in a nutshell: brothers Joseph and Charles Surface seem to live very different lives. Joseph, an ascetic and “sentimental” man, is respected by all, but Charles is a debauched drunkard, keeping ill-judged company and spending his money, rather like the late George Best, on wine, women and song – the rest he wastes. But Joseph is a hypocrite, and equally desirous of the secret company of women, no matter to whom they are attached. He keeps the company of Lady Sneerwell, the 1770s equivalent of a News of the World gossip editor, who plots and intrigues to ruin people’s lives for the sheer fun and hell of it. Into this circle comes the young and flighty Lady Teazle, recently married to Sir Peter, a man of good repute but at least twice her age. Add to the mix the return of the Surfaces’ rich uncle Oliver, his attempts to test the morality of his two nephews, and the amorous attention paid to Sir Peter’s ward Maria by the insufferable Sir Benjamin Backbite, and you have a recipe for hilarity – at the very least.

PinkThere’s just one word to describe director Tinuke Craig’s vision for this production – pink. From the lighting, to the dominant colour of the costumes, to the backdrop, to the props; if it can be pink, it is. The text gives no indication as to why this should be the case; but maybe it simply comes across as a light-hearted, cheeky, luxuriant, slightly naughty colour. I think the question to be asked is not so much why is everything pink, but more, why not?

Lady T and JosephIt’s very much a why not production, in fact. There’s no obvious reason why new scenes and entrances should start via three trap doors in the stage, rather than from the wings; but why not? Nor is there any reason why Sir Peter Teazle’s asides whilst contemplating revealing the little French milliner behind the screen to Joseph Surface should be delivered via a stonking great reverberating microphone – but why not? I’m still trying to work out exactly why that simple device is so funny. When we first witness Joseph Surface in full debauched mode, drinking and enjoying La Vie en Rose with his pals, he’s dressed like a – may I speak frankly? tart in her boudoir – whilst his mates are in corsets and nighties (all in pink, of course). Odd. Very odd, in fact; but why not?

Lady S and Mrs CThere’s an entertaining use of musical leitmotifs; including when anyone – especially Joseph – starts spouting sentiment, a serene theme drifts in, which ridicules it mercilessly. The costumes range from the fanciful to the outrageous, apart from for those characters where respectability is a watchword (albeit with Joseph, a hypocritical one.) Clever use of back projections keep us informed as to where each scene is set; this also works well for the picture gallery scene, where Joseph sells off the family heirlooms at a snip, and for revealing the faked letters that Snake has been devising.

Lady T and Sir PeterA lively, busy, packed and colourful presentation, then. However, what impresses me most about the production is that it tells what can be construed as a very complicated and confusing plot with simplicity and clarity. And whilst most of the characters beg their actors to “caricature them up”, and reduce them to two dimensions, they are all totally believable. The portrayal of Sir Peter and Lady Teazle, for example, shows them to be real people with real problems and concerns and, when you take away the fripperies, a real love for each other. Similarly, whilst Joseph Surface may – on the surface (Sheridan never wastes a surname) – be a disgrace, deep down he is a much more honest character than his seemingly pious brother.

JosephThis is all helped along by some superb performances that truly deliver the characterisations as well as the laughs. Geoffrey Streatfeild is a marvellously realistic and quietly reasonable Sir Peter, proffering confiding glances to members of the audience which engage us in his plight. Tara Tijani beautifully conveys Lady Teazle’s youthful exuberance and excesses, squealing like a spoilt child when he consents to give her more money, but realising over the course of the play that there’s more to life than expensive shopping. Stefan Adegbola’s Joseph is an excellent study of a self-aware man to whom hypocrisy comes as a given, whilst John Leader’s Charles, rather like Richard O’Brien’s Frank’n’Furter, gives himself over to absolute pleasure, but shows us the decency hidden below.

Sir OliverSiubhan Harrison commands the stage as a tremendous Lady Sneerwell, making entrances and exits sideways to allow for her ridiculous dress, plotting magnificently until she meets her match. Wil Johnson is also excellent as Sir Oliver, giving us a fine hail-fellow-well-met characterisation, but mixed up with an East End wideboy Mr Premium and a frail and humble Mr Stanley. Emily Houghton’s Mrs Candour cuts an impressive figure, beautifully gaping with awe at any precious nuggets of gossip that come her way.

SnakeThere’s great support from Tadeo Martinez as Snake, oozing mistrust from every foppish pore, Yasemin Özdemir as a no-nonsense Maria, Jason Thorpe as a petulant Crabtree, Patrick Walshe McBride as a surprisingly realistic Sir Benjamin, and, getting the biggest laugh and spontaneous round of applause of the night, Jessica Alade as the servant Lappet, whose patience with her master Charles suddenly wears alarmingly thin, with a choice of language that you definitely won’t find in the original text.

Lady SneerwellHowever, I think Sheridan would have approved of the modernisations and liberties taken with his precious script. The play’s opening speech, in this production delivered by Lady Sneerwell, casts a net over the whole world of gossip, which here includes a reference to one Baroness M – we all knew of whom she was speaking; and the epilogue, which in the text is given to Lady Teazle, here is delivered by Maria, and, to be honest, why not?

Sir PeterA very funny, and well appreciated production, that satisfies all the senses but also tells its story with commitment and clarity. Who knew that the 1770s and the 2020s had so much in common?

 

 

Production photos by Marc Brenner

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Kyoto, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 25th June 2024

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It couldn’t have been more appropriate on a blisteringly hot Stratford-upon-Avon summer’s evening than to turn our attention to climate change. We still frequently hear talk of the famous Kyoto meeting – COP 3 to give it its official title – where 150 countries, each with the power of veto, somehow were able to reach agreement on a subject that has always been extremely contentious, particularly in certain quarters. It was the first time that such international consensus had been agreed on climate change; and although there’s no doubt that the progress hoped for over the subsequent years has been faltering (at best), without it we would surely all be in hotter soup than we currently are.

Stephen KunkenIf there’s one thing that Joe Murphy and Joe Robertson’s new play Kyoto – co-produced by the Royal Shakespeare Company and Good Chance – achieves brilliantly, it’s exposing the extraordinary attention to detail that’s necessary to create a constructive and useful document to which all parties can agree. As I know from personal experience, it can be a most bizarre experience, arguing the toss over a semi-colon here and a conjunction there; one can only imagine the level of pernicketiness needed during a summit like COP 3, to change words, brackets, commas and so on. But the chaos somehow leads to order, and the play demonstrates that superbly.

Stephen KunkenKyoto‘s structure takes us through the early stages of meetings between climate scientists, lawyers and international governmental observers, from 1989 through to COP 3 in 1997. At its heart is Don Pearlman, the narrator, stepping in and out of the action to play his part and to keep us, the Swan Theatre audience, up to speed with how things are going. As an oil industry lobbyist, Don is undoubtedly more anti-hero than hero, as he works with the Saudi representative and others to put a spanner in the works wherever possible. He even creates his own NGO – The Climate Council – partly out of mischief, but mainly to ensure that he can be as close to the decision makers as possible. By the time we reach Act Two, the scene changes to Kyoto, with all the conference’s planning, subterfuge, arguments and eventual, unexpected, success, largely due to the determined and distinctly quirky style of its Chaiman, Raul Estrada-Oyuela.

DelegatesA very important and relevant subject – and there are gripping stories to be told about how it happened and indeed the effect it had on its participants. However, Messrs Murphy and Robertson don’t seem to know which story they are giving us here. Is it the story of how the Kyoto agreement came about, or is it the story of Don Pearlman and the tolls it took on his family and health? Clearly, it’s both, and I found this play over-ambitious, muddled and confusing. So many facts and opinions are bombarded at us that it’s very hard to take it all in and there were a few times where I was frankly lost. And although it’s a lively and highly creative production to watch, with Akhila Krishnan’s video design a work of art on its own merit, many aspects of the production detracted from our understanding of what’s going on.

The CastMiriam Buether’s set presents us with a huge round table, with delegate chairs all around; some of which are taken by members of the audience, who I presume, would feel at the very heart of the debates that take place. The opening scene reveals Don Pearlman being approached by a number of darkly dressed, shady characters, luring him into doing their dirty work for them. Round table? Shady characters? It very much feels like we’ve been plunged into an episode of The Traitors.

CherriesMy main bone of contention with Kyoto is that there is a disconnect between what the play tells us and what the production shows us. The relationship between the play and its audience is – deliberately I’m sure – blurred from the start. Pearlman addresses us in the here and now and takes us back to the 90s. The audience members sitting around the table merge into the action, for example standing up when addressed by their Japanese host. All audience members are wearing COP 3 lanyards, a cute idea that might make us feel more involved, that, however, neither achieves anything or goes anywhere. In a private conversation with the Chair, Ferdy Roberts’ John Prescott offers cherries to an audience member, thereby breaking the illusion that a) it’s a private chat and b) it’s a deadly serious subject.

Jorge BoschThis blurring continues: there’s a scene that ends with the chandelier in the Pearlmans’ hotel suite shattering, due to some suspected vandalism/threat. It’s not a particularly impressive visual effect to be honest as there’s no chandelier and just a few crunchy bits of shard tumble down on to the stage with all the lethal sharpness of sycamore leaves. Then Jorge Bosch playing Raul comes on stage and has to step through the shards underfoot to continue with his next scene, even though it doesn’t take place in the hotel but in the conference room. Our sense of location is blurred; it’s messy and it’s muddled.

Ingrid OliverThere’s a very poignant moment between John Prescott, who played a significant role as the UK and European Union’s delegate and worked extremely hard to bring sides together, and German Chancellor-to-be Angela Merkel where she marks the commitment both countries have put in to reach this achievement; a solid moment where EU membership truly helped unite old enemies, that I’m sure is meant to suggest a knowing sigh over Brexit.

Jenna AugenThere’s an article in the programme written by Prescott where he describes those final moments of discussion: “We just kept going, 48 hours without sleep, finding compromise and wearing down opposition. But we got there in the end. You could call it “diplomacy by exhaustion”.” A great phrase. But the scene where Raul is ending the debate and knocking down his gavel time after time to signify assent to each remaining article doesn’t reflect diplomacy by exhaustion – it’s more like diplomacy by pantomime. There’s neither a sense of exhaustion nor gravitas, just a ludicrous comedy scene played for laughs; totally the wrong tone for the moment.

Nancy CraneThe final scene is given over to a long eulogy by Shirley Pearlman about Don, who has – sorry, spoilers and all that – died. It was because of all those cigarettes he smoked. Really? We’ve been watching him for the last two and a half hours and he only got his lighter out once, and that was just to set fire to a magazine. The poor man was apparently riddled with cancer. Again, really? He complained of backache once. If the play is meant to give us an insight into Don’s personal situation, it does a pretty poor job. The scene goes on for way, way too long and minimises the impact of presenting the Kyoto agreement. My mind went to the final scene of Death of a Salesman and how succinctly and eloquently Willy Loman’s neighbour Charley notes his passing: “Nobody dast blame this man”. If only Kyoto could have had an ending like that.

Dale RapleyAs you’d expect, the performances go a long way to redeeming the shortcomings of the play. Stephen Kunken gives a superb performance as Pearlman, in a demanding role that requires him to be in the thick of the story and the nonstop conduit with the audience. The ever reliable Dale Rapley is excellent in all his roles including a bullying suave Al Gore and a meddlesome photographer. Nancy Crane is outstanding as the US delegate, trying to play the upper hand because of the importance of her nation but finding herself frequently outwitted. In fact, all the actors playing the national delegates give brilliant performances, including Andrea Gatchalian’s desperate Kiribati, Jude AkuwudikeJude Akuwudike’s dogmatic Tanzania and Togo Igawa’s poetic Japan, whose “welcome to Kyoto” speech that opened the second act was one of the play’s most charming moments.

A highly significant achievement in our recent history, the story of the Kyoto agreement should be kept alive for future generations. And whilst this play powerfully conveys the chaos and market-trading of the conference experience, I wish it had told the story in a clearer, less messy way.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – The Merry Wives of Windsor, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 19th June 2024

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Forsooth, at these times when the UK body politic is working out exactly what the next five years have in store, it’s verily a buckbasket amount of fun to enjoy a laughter tonic in the form of Blanche McIntyre’s brilliant new production of William Shakespeare’s occasionally vicious comedy The Merry Wives of Windsor. It goes without saying that this is a play at which you can throw the kitchen sink, but Ms McIntyre has backed in the entire stock of the local Wickes in a pantechnicon at the stage door – and it works superbly.

FalstaffIt’s a surprisingly complicated plot, if you follow it in depth; that fat fool Sir John Falstaff is down on his uppers and lodging at the Garter Inn, so plans a two-way attack on the hearts and bank balances of local well-to-do Mistresses Ford and Page. When they discover that he’s not remotely serious in his intentions, they decide to double-cross him. Twice. On both occasions he has to be secreted from the Ford house without Master Ford knowing; much hilarity ensueth. However, Ford himself has become genuinely jealous and suspicious of his wife and tricks Falstaff into keeping him updated with the fat knight’s “progress” with her. Once that’s come out into the open, and Ford repents his jealousy, they all decide to trick Falstaff one more time by spooking him in the deep dark forest. Gosh, those wives truly are merry.

Windsor ParkRobert Innes Hopkins has pulled a masterstroke with the set. An immaculate lawn fronts the perfect suburban front door of 37 Acacia Avenue Windsor (it may as well be). As the scenes develop, the house frontage spins around to reveal various locations inluding the front door of the Garter Inn (showing the Germany v England game courtesy of Pie Sports, nice touch), and Dr Caius’ surgery – he appears to be a dentist for the purposes of this play, and why not? The production makes excellent use of the hidden trap on the stage to present Falstaff’s bed, a pub garden table, and so on; and for the final scene, the suburban landscape is whisked away and we find ourselves presented with the ominous trees and threatening foliage of Windsor Park.

Shallow and PageThe text has been decently revised to include a few modern references whilst still retaining the full authenticity of the original; of those, I particularly enjoyed Caius’ unexpected nod to McDonalds. The whole approach of the production is to concentrate on the humour – that’s really the only reason why you would do this play in the first place. The darker sides to the story take something of a back seat; the viciousness of the revenge on Falstaff isn’t overly stressed – this is a resourceful and mentally strong Falstaff who can definitely give as good as he gets. The veiled cruelty of trying to prevent the marriage between Mistress Anne and Fenton – who love each other – is only briefly hinted at, and quickly redressed at the end. Only Ford’s jealousy is developed more strongly; a well-judged, subtle performance by Richard Goulding reveals his inner torment but it never gets in the way of a good belly-laugh.

Mistresses Page and FordSamantha Spiro and Siubhan Harrison lead the cast as the eponymous wives, with hilariously conspiratorial and comically energetic performances as they entrap husbands, suitors, offspring, and whoever comes into their orbit. Wil Johnson is excellent as the dignified Master Page, John Dougall is nicely busy-bodying as Shallow, Emily Houghton gives us a gutsy Host of the Garter, and Tara Tijani and John Leader are well matched as Anne and Fenton, charming in their decently developing relationship and quietly victorious at the end when their plans have come to fruition.

Mistress Page and Sir HughIan Hughes and Jason Thorpe make the most of Shakespeare’s near-xenophobic language to poke wonderful fun at their characters, Sir Hugh and Dr Caius’ Welsh and French backgrounds; Mr Thorpe bringing a beautiful petulance to the acerbic doctor’s barbed lines, and Mr Hughes as a delightful windbag of pomposity and hypocrisy, seizing the surprise chance to take a sniff at Mistress Ford’s discarded undies.

Slender and AnneAll the cast give superb, committed performances. There are some scene-stealing comedy moments worth mentioning; Patrick Walshe McBride as the tongue-tied Slender, Omar Bynon and Yasemin Özdemir as the double act of Pistol and Nym, and, triumphant in the magnificent basket scenes, Riess Fennell and David Partridge as the two hapless laundrymen dealing with removing the hidden Falstaff.

Mistress Ford and FalstaffBut it’s John Hodgkinson who takes centre stage with a marvellous portrayal of Falstaff; so often you see Falstaff played as a glutton with his mouth dribbling with food and drink and his attire filthy and uncared for. This Falstaff is the opposite. Smart suit, a clean cut appearance; which makes his mud-caked reappearance after the Thames incident even funnier. His only nod towards gluttony is when he sinks his quart of sack in two mouthfuls – each of which get a cheer and a round of applause from the riveted audience. He’s lascivious, but comparatively subtly; for example, not moving out of the doorframe when Mistress Page has to squeeze past him, much to embarrassed but sexy giggles from both of them. Mr FordHodgkinson gives us a totally believable Falstaff; not a caricature of excesses but a real man whose actions we can’t approve of but completely understand. No spoilers, but whilst the ending of the play shows him completely humiliated and outdone, you have absolutely no doubt that the next morning he’ll just carry on as normal. A true survivor in fact!

One tiny note: the short scene involving the two German football supporters doesn’t entirely make sense; but then again, Shakespeare’s original equivalent doesn’t make much sense either. Otherwise this is a tremendously uplifting production that frequently has you hooting with pleasure, and a wonderful way to spend a summer night in Stratford. Highly recommended!

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – English, Royal Shakespeare Company at The Other Place, Stratford-upon-Avon, 15th May 2024

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Samuel Beckett first brought his play Fin de Partie to the Royal Court in London in 1957 performed in the original French. This was still during the era of stage censorship, but the Lord Chamberlain’s Office had no objection to this production. However, when it was translated into English as Endgame, for a repeat performance at the same theatre six months later, suddenly the censor perked up and objected to the description of God: “The bastard! He doesn’t exist!” on grounds of blasphemy. However, there was no objection to this line when the same blasphemous concept was expressed in French. Words are much stronger than thoughts or actions. Especially when they’re in English.

CastSanaz Toossi’s Pulitzer Prize winning English proves that point superbly. Four Iranian students embark on a basic English course, guided by their kindly and supportive teacher Marjan. We see their initial struggles, coming to terms with the prospect of only speaking English in class, and not drifting into Farsi. All the lines in the play are actually spoken by the actors in English, so we can understand everything going on. When the language flows confidently and rapidly we know the characters are speaking in Farsi, where they feel comfortable; and when they start to speak in English, they adopt a stilted, faltering tone, loaded down with a heavy accent. It’s a very entertaining device, and once your brain has adapted to the trick, it works extremely well and is the source of much of the humour.

Teaching gamesWe see the characters’ building confidence – or waning, depending on how well they are progressing. We note the element of competitiveness between them, and how jealous the female students are of Omid, who already seems to be very good at English. It’s extremely funny to relate these struggles to any times we, the audience, might have tried to learn a foreign language. You realise that those feelings of utter stupidity, such as when trying to have a conversation about the ownership of a pencil, or bewilderment when you can’t keep up with the pace of conversation of a native speaker, are problems that all language students face, no matter where they’re from. It serves as a good leveller; it’s all very recognisable, and at times hysterical.

RoyaThe play questions the motivations behind all the characters. The oldest student, Roya, is learning English because she wants to be able to speak with her granddaughter, now living overseas. Others might need it for a visa application, or a job as a teaching assistant. The play also examines the need for honesty within a closed community. There are secrets – some are kept, some are betrayed; when it is discovered that one of the five characters in the play is not telling the truth as to why they are there, the shockwaves it sends through the group is very destructive.

MarjanWords can be used as a weapon, for division, or as a symbol of identity and belonging. Roya is annoyed that her Canadian granddaughter has been given a name she can barely pronounce; it’s just one symptom of how the older woman is being estranged from the rest of her younger family. Teacher Marjan talks of how she was called Mary when living in England because it was easier for the lazy locals to pronounce; she looks on this eccentricity with Anglophile affection, but Roya is offended at the way it belittles and disrespects Marjan’s Iranian heritage. This is not new; think of the Kapoors and the Rabindranaths in TV’s Goodness Gracious Me, obscuring their Indian backgrounds as they aspire to be recognised as the traditional English families, the Coopers and the Robinsons.

ClassSanaz Toossi’s fascinating play keeps you spellbound from the very start and is like one of those big flowers with masses of petals that you can keep stripping away at until you finally get to its well-hidden core beneath. Diyan Zora’s delicate and modest production gently reveals these layers as we get to know the characters – that is, to the extent that Ms Toossi will allow us. There’s no change of scenery; Anisha Fields’ simple set is all we need – some tables and chairs, and a TV and DVD to allow the students to watch Romcoms to perfect their language skills. Each short scene progresses through the five or six weeks of the course, the characters taking up different positions around the tables. You might think this would feel static; but Ms Zora’s clever direction makes us see the progress through language and character development rather than location.

Nadia AlbinaAll five actors give tremendous performances. Heading the cast is Nadia Albina as Marjan, the kind of teacher you would have enjoyed having at school, ready to praise you for the progress you have achieved, trying her best to make her limited resources go as far as possible. Like all teachers, she has her favourites; and when they inevitably let her down her frustration and hurt becomes subtly apparent. It’s an excellent and highly believable performance.

Sara HazemiSara Hazemi is terrific as the willing and sunny Goli, the youngest in the class and perhaps the nearest to being a “schoolchild” in her helpful attitude. Serena Manteghi is also superb as the more cynical Elham, prepared to work up to a point but also more at home when she’s in disruptive mode.

Nojan KhazaiI really enjoyed Lanna Joffrey as Roya, fully aware that her age makes her a fish out of water, trying to grapple with the basics of a foreign language that is beyond her capability, and trying even harder to hang on to her position within her family. And Nojan Khazai gives a quietly strong performance as the slightly mysterious Omid, who can always be relied on to speak with confidence and ability – even to the extent that he can correct the teacher.

Classroom anticsI came away from the play uncertain as to Omid’s motivations. He has a secret, that I won’t reveal, that makes you question his commitment to the course. It’s a loose end that isn’t tied up. But that’s life isn’t it – full of loose ends? The ending of the play also breaks the convention that had been established throughout the previous 89 minutes of the 90 minute production; the final two characters start talking Farsi (we assume it’s Farsi) to each other. As a result, it ends with a conversation that the audience doesn’t understand. Are they just saying “Goodbye, it’s been nice knowing you”? Are they saying, “I hated every minute of this rotten English course”? Are they concealing another secret about the relationships in or the purpose of the classroom? It’s simply a moment of privacy between two people, so we’ll never know. Just like the first British audiences of Becket’s Fin de Partie, who didn’t know that they were hearing highly censorable blasphemy, it all just goes over our heads as an indistinguishable sound. Language is possibly man’s most powerful tool; and English provides a very intriguing and thought-provoking contribution to the discussion.

The show runs at The Other Place in Stratford-upon-Avon until 1st June and then transfers to London’s Kiln Theatre from 5 – 29 June.

Production photos by Richard Davenport

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Buddha of Suburbia, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 30th April 2024

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“Buddha of Suburbia?” I hear you ask. “Wasn’t that the TV series in the 1990s that was full of sex? Disgusting, I tell you.” I didn’t see the programme, so I can’t vouch for its content, and nor – unlike most of the rest of the world – have I read Hanif Kureishi’s best-selling book. But I have seen Emma Rice’s production of the RSC/Wise Children co-production of Rice and Kureishi’s own stage adaptation, on at the Swan Theatre until 1st June, and believe me, it’s the best thing since sliced chapatis.

Disco timeKarim greets the audience and welcomes us back into the England of May 1979. Ah yes, I remember it well… the winter of discontent, National Front members roaming the streets, and the upcoming electoral victory of a grocer’s daughter from Grantham. Happy days. If that wasn’t nostalgic enough, we then go back to 1976, to visit the domestic bliss of 17-year-old Karim’s homelife; his yoga-loving father Haroon, his dowdy mum Margaret, his cheeky auntie Jeeta, his grumpy uncle Anwar, his bestie Jamila, and the love of his life, Charlie.

ProtestOver the next three hours or so, we witness Karim’s journey to adulthood, through sex and drugs and rock ‘n’ roll; or, rather, fabulous trashy 70s disco which is even better. Relationships, his first acting job, and what the young people of today call adulting – it’s all there. It reminded me a little of the picaresque escapades of Nicholas Nickleby – only without the sex. It isn’t a journey without its problems; mind you, who’s is? For a young man who appears to think a lot, Karim makes a few reckless decisions, leaving others hurt in his wake. But he achieves an enviable personal sense of being at ease with everything that life can chuck at him; lucky lad.

SetIt’s very rarely that every single aspect of a production comes together so stonkingly well. The script is affectionate, insightful, bouncing with comic observations and stunning use of language. Rachana Jadhav’s intricate, compact and yet hugely versatile set manages to convey living rooms, bedrooms, gardens, shops… you name it, it conveys it. Vicki Mortimer’s outstanding costume design picks up all the delightful eccentricities of the 1970s: flares, gaudy colours, cowboy jackets, tunics, and above all, the primary coloured Jockey Y-Fronts that were all the rage. The show is accompanied by a superbly chosen range of music of the era, and choreographer Etta Murfitt has gone to town recreating those marvellously silly dance routines we used to do back in the day. Even elements such as Kev McCurdy’s fight direction and the superbly convincing range of accents are top-notch, as Changez might say.

MatthewEmma Rice’s direction brings out so many superb individual performances and the show is peppered with hilarious and telling moments that say so much about a character or a situation with fleeting wordless eloquence; such as the casual flicking out of belly-button fluff or the subtlest of knowing glances. There’s also the most inventive use of fruit ever seen on a stage; be warned!

KarimEvery single member of the cast pulls a brilliant performance out of their respective hats. It all starts and ends with Dee Ahluwalia’s captivating Karim, a character who instantly wins you over with his honesty, approachability and charisma, and provides an unbreakable link with us over the whole three hours. It’s an astonishing central performance that’s a major step on the way to making him a star.

YogaAnkur Bahl is also fantastic as his father Haroon, essentially a weak and conceited people-pleaser who spends more time attending to his own needs than anyone else’s; he’s an excellent yogi too! He makes a terrific contrast with Bettrys Jones’ brilliant vision of dowdiness, Margaret, a mass of unkempt hair and suppressed artistic talent. Ms Jones is also excellent as Eleanor, with whom Karim has his first proper relationship; she’s on her own journey that does not necessarily include him.

ChangezNatasha Jayetileke gives a strong performance as the unruly free spirit that is Jamila, beautifully ill-matched with Raj Bajaj’s innocent-abroad Changez whom her family have chosen for her to marry. Mr Bajaj provides some of the best laughs but also some truly moving moments as he accepts he’s never going to get everything he wants. Rina Fatania delivers stunning performances in all her roles – Auntie Jeetathe irrepressible Auntie Jeeta, the deliciously lascivious Marlene and the politically correct actor Tracey. Ewan Wardrop gives a sensational performance as the pompous and pretentious director Matthew Pyke – with possibly the best line in the show, addressed to an audience member.

Charlie and KarimLucy Thackeray shines as Haroon’s sophisticated second love interest Eva, and Simon Rivers portrays Anwar’s cantankerous and spoilt inner child to perfection. And Tommy Belshaw takes your breath away as he conveys Charlie’s rise as a super-confident and charismaticEnsemble young man, followed by his subsequent fall as a dashed and destroyed dependent, wasting away before our eyes.

JamilaNot one weak spot in the production; and not one thing I wish they’d done differently. Emma Rice always makes you think and surprises you with unexpected tweaks and quirks, but here she has truly excelled herself. Incredible characterisations, superb performances, brilliant direction; a production to relish.

 

 

Production photos by Steve Tanner

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Review – Love’s Labour’s Lost, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 18th April 2024

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The Court of Navarre has been transplanted to a billionaire’s wellness centre on a paradise island in the Pacific in Emily Burns’ new production of Love’s Labour’s Lost, a Shakespeare comedy that stands out from the others by refusing to end with a multiple wedding celebration, but instead suspending such festivities in abeyance for a twelvemonth and a day. I confess that LLL is one of my personal favourites of Shakespeare, because of its unexpected, bitter ending, its deflation of the tradition of courtly love and how it exposes hypocrisy in general; and this production covers all those areas in a funny and arresting manner.

Navarre CourtI’m sure you know the scenario: King Ferdinand and his three attendant lords have vowed to spend three years in solitude, committed to learning and abstaining from the pleasures of the flesh. The Princess of France appears at his Court, together with her three ladies-in-waiting, to negotiate the return of Aquitaine from Navarre. Of course, being men, the Navarrese fall head over heels with the women; and of course, being women, the French are much more interested in the politics of their visit and taking selfies*. *This might not appear in Shakespeare’s original.

Ladies in waitingThe strong women trump the ludicrous men hands down; add to the mix a fantastical Spaniard, Don Adriano de Armado, a lazy spoilt clown Costard, a country wench Jaquenetta, a pompous schoolmaster Holofernes, and a sober (ish) solicitor Boyet, and what could possibly go wrong? The play is a veritable feast of outlandish and hilarious characterisations who bob around vying for prominence throughout the play. As a finale, an attempt to perform a pageant of the Nine Worthies, headed by a role-greedy Holofernes, was possibly a draft version of the luvvie Bottom and his mechanicals performing Pyramus and Thisbe in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. However, Holofernes also discovers that his courtly audience are about as rude and ill-behaved as if they were watching The Bodyguard at the Palace Theatre Manchester.

ReprobatesIndeed, Ferdinand’s court turns into a boorish stag affair, completely upturning the traditions of courtly behaviour. No wonder Berowne sees fit to explore some underpant action in front of his virtuous lady – thus accidentally encouraging others to try the same tactic. But the women are having none of it; and this bunch of reprobates fully deserve their suspended sentence of a year before they’ve got a chance of sampling womanly wiles.

Navarre SpaWhen you arrive in the auditorium you are greeted by Joanna Scotcher’s magnificent set; starting off as some Pacific equivalent of an Oval Office, then transferring to the court of Navarre, a gorgeous revolving set that affords maximum comic potential with places to hide, a fabulous staircase to skip down, and one of those touristy word sculptures spelling out NAVARRE as the perfect location to pose for Your Socials. It’s all fronted by a grassy lawn on which the exclusive clientele of the Navarre Spa can recline and enjoy sunny massages. It reminded me of a very up-market version of the Mamma Mia! set. Does Your Mother Know that you’re out in Polynesia?

Clever set and costumesMs Scotcher scores a double hit with her excellent costume design: Hawaiian shirts and white trousers for the locals, classic white or beige creations for the upper crust types, and full Spanish sporting gear for Don Armado. The home-made costumes for the Nine Worthies are terrific, including a hilarious costume for Don Armado’s Hector bedecked in something made from old Cruzcampo and Madri cans. Composer Paul Englishby has created some very lilting melodies to continue the Pacific theme, plus a very formal anthem for the final coronation scene which replaces the traditional pleasures of one of Shakespeare’s most enduring songs – When Icicles Hang by the Wall, with Greasy Joan keeling the pot.

EnsembleHowever, the Polynesian setting means we obviously have to forgo this ending. They don’t have icicles in the South Pacific. We also lose the final line: The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo, which encapsulates the play’s sudden and sorrowful ending. Instead we have an impressive, but incomprehensible, song to mark the Princess inheriting the throne. Am I alone in wondering, if she’s not the Princess of France but of some unnamed South Seas state, why is she so interested in taking Aquitaine back? It’s not as though they’re going to be contiguous! I’m not fully convinced that the change of setting works completely for the logic of the play.

Luke ThompsonHeading the cast is Luke Thompson as Berowne: I’ve never seen Mr Thompson in anything before, but I knew of his reputation – and boy is it deserved. His is an outstanding performance, capturing all the aspects of this complex but engaging character – wheedling, sarcastic, manipulative, and devastatingly honest. He has the ability to spark up an otherwise humdrum speech with vocal wit, fantastic phrasing, physical comedy, and superb inventiveness. Abiola Owokoniran is also very impressive as the naturally dignified Ferdinand, oozing power and confidence, boasting an impeccable façade but also revelling in the trappings of his wealth; which makes it even funnier when he degenerates into becoming one of the lads. Eric Stroud and Brandon Bassir give extremely funny supporting performances as Longaville and Dumain, the latter often bringing the house down with his irrepressible youthful excitement.

PrincessAs the Princess, Melanie-Joyce Bermudez sets the tone for the women with her superb polite, correct but firm portrayal of someone born to greatness but isn’t quite ready for it yet. Ioanna Kimbrook’s hard-headed Rosaline is a perfect shield against Berowne’s cupid’s arrows, and Amy Griffiths and Sarita Gabony are a terrific Katherine and Maria with their rebuttals against the men’s approaches.

Armado and CostardJack Bardoe gives a riotous performance as the vowel-strangling Don Armado, the always reliable Jordan Metcalfe brings beautifully understated comedy to the role of Boyet, Tony Gardner is a wonderfully insufferable Holofernes, and Nathan Foad is perfect as the camp and unruly Costard. The whole ensemble work together brilliantly to hold the show together and, overall, it’s simply a joyful experience. Love’s Labour’s Lost continues at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre until 18th May.

Production photos by Johan Persson

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Ben and Imo, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 29th February 2024

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In 1952, Benjamin Britten was riding high. With operas like Peter Grimes and Billy Budd under his belt, not to mention the famous Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra, he was an obvious choice to compose an opera to celebrate the young Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation – Gloriana, based on Lytton Strachey’s Elizabeth and Essex. However, a composer – or any creative artist – is often not the best judge of their own work, and nine months before Gloriana was to grace the stage of Covent Garden, into Britten’s life stepped Imogen Holst. The daughter of Gustav, she was a composer and conductor in her own right, and her all encompassing passion was music, in all its forms and from all its angles. But she turned her back on her career in favour of teaching, support and assisting. At one point Britten suggests she should be designated as his amanuensis. But that’s too grand for Holst; she prefers the understated “musical assistant”.

Ben ImoWhat is it about creative geniuses that means they always seem to have a dark side? That’s one of the many questions posed in Mark Ravenhill’s thought-provoking and beautifully written Ben and Imo, an account of the nine months that led up to the first performance of Gloriana on 8th June 1953.  We see their shared love of music, the arduous and cantankerous creative process, the struggle to overcome obstacles, and above all, their mutual reliance (although both, you feel, would deny it). What we don’t see is their lives outside of these four walls, or this circular stage. There is a huge contrast, for instance, between Imo’s austere existence and the affluence of Ben’s society lifestyle, wonderfully demonstrated by the difference between his enviable Astrakhan coat and her dowdy outfits.

Ben ImoWe also don’t see the people who have shaped them into who they are: Gustav Holst, who had died many years before, and Peter Pears, Ben’s partner, always singing his way around the world. The play removes the protagonists from these prime influences, so that they are left to fend for themselves. The only other element that makes an incursion into the “Ben and Imo” environment is the sea off the Aldeburgh coast; a constant background reminder of the unpredictable power and destructive force it can wield.

Imo BenThis is not a portrayal of a harmonious relationship. Britten is one of those people who bring others into their lives because they need them for a purpose, and when that need has been fulfilled, they drop them. Holst, however, is the complete opposite; she’s loyal, nurturing, and generous. At first, Britten wants her to make all the decisions for him; later, he resents her for trying to take control. He attracts people towards him, but once a friendship is established and successful, he unexpectedly and without reason drives them away. He needs Imo’s encouragement, and she needs to give it to him. But when she envisages a plan to refine and develop his Gloriana score, he can’t abide the thought of her presence and so arranges for her to go to America for three months. In modern parlance, he catfishes, cancels, and then ghosts. No wonder Imo doesn’t know where she stands.

BenBen’s progress is marked by a series of seemingly petty victories, such as when the Lord Chamberlain backs down over his refusal to allow the appearance of a “pisspot” as part of Elizabeth I’s domestic regime. He has a splendid time trashing Dame Ninette de Valois, Frederick Ashton, Covent Garden director Lord Harewood, and others. This man is nothing if not a name-dropper. As well as the creative process in general, the play examines not only the tricks that are played within a power struggle, blaming others for failure, but also the concept of the dumbing-down of art, and the perils of royal patronage. The powerplay between Britten and Holst was always going to be the sticking point of their relationship, and the play’s wonderfully sudden ending seems to nail that question once and for all.

ImoSoutra Gilmour’s set places the piano at the heart of the play; no need for anything else on the stage unless it serves the piano – such as the stool and the supply of sheet music, or a few drinks to fuel the musicians. The piano is the ultimate visual indication that music is all.

Ben ImoErica Whyman directs two stunning performances by Samuel Barnett as Ben and Victoria Yeates as Imo. Mr Barnett truly inhabits Britten’s enclosed, reserved mind, giving of himself only when he needs to, and spitting out volumes of unexpected vitriolic fury when he doesn’t get his own way. He shows us Britten as both masterful and pathetic; both a genius and a lame duck. Ms Yeates gives us a superb study of a willing slave, insightful and practical, prepared to give up her own success and dignity for the sake of what she perceives to be the greater good. But there is always a point where the worm turns, and she provides all the genuine emotional reactions that Mr Barnett’s Britten refuses to indulge in.

HouseThere were just two elements to the staging that jarred with me and became an unnecessary distraction from the pure realism of the play. Perched on top of the piano is a model of Britten’s house; no one ever refers to it or touches it, so presumably only we can see it. Its little windows are lit, as if to show there’s someone living there. When the second act opens, we understand that the house has been flooded and that the electricity has been cut off; yet the little lights in the model house remain on. That just doesn’t make any sense to me.

Ben ImoThat flood is represented not only by the audience hearing loud lashings of rain and sea, but also by a little bit of water that trickles off the surface of the piano. Knowing how graphically the RSC can represent a storm when they want to (imagine Edgar on the blasted heath in King Lear), I’m afraid that little bit of rainwater dripping off the piano is hardly a deluge – it’s laughably pitiful.

Nevertheless, it’s a very well-written and structured play that grapples with some fascinating issues and aspects of humanity that some of us would prefer to remain hidden; and Samuel Barnett and Victoria Yeates are fantastic. Gloriana may well have been a flop – Ben and Imo makes up for that in spades.

Production photos by Ellie Kurttz

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – A Midsummer Night’s Dream, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 13th February 2024

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What better way to spark up a cold and wet Midwinter Night’s Theatregoing than with a jolly Midsummer Night’s Dream? A tonic for the senses and a giggle for the soul – and let’s face it, we could all do with some of that nowadays. However, Shakespeare’s early hit isn’t all beer and skittles. Egeus threatens his daughter Hermia with all the force of the Athenian law if she does not give in to his demands that she marry his choice of suitor, Demetrius, rather than her choice, Lysander. If she disobeys, then it’s the option of death or get thee to a nunnery (wrong play, but you get my drift). Not many giggles in that.

OberonMeanwhile, things are not that harmonious in the Land of the Fairies either. Oberon and Titania have quarrelled over an Indian changeling whom Oberon wants as a page, but Titania wants to keep because his mother was one of her worshippers. Like Egeus, Oberon chooses to wreak revenge and punish his Queen by making her love someone (or indeed, something) that she wouldn’t normally choose to love – the first thing she sees when waking up from a drug-induced coma – thus humiliating and ridiculing her. Not many giggles in that either.

Bottom and TitaniaExcept, of course, there are; loads of them, as it’s Bottom the weaver whom she first sees, but not before Oberon’s impish partner-in-mischief, Puck, has transformed him into an ass. Bottom is one of the troupe of rude mechanicals who are rehearsing a play for Theseus’ and Hippolyta’s upcoming nuptials, thereby creating a link between the court and fairyland. Anyway, I shouldn’t be telling you the plot – you either already know it or, if you don’t, for heaven’s sake, this play has been performed since 1596, where on earth have you been all this time?

BallsDirector Eleanor Rhode’s production largely dismisses the danger lurking beneath the surface of Hermia’s and Titania’s predicaments and goes straight for the funnybone. The production relies heavily on three Ms: modernity, music and magic – and it’s a winning combination. The costumes are contemporary, and the characterisations distinctly 21st century. Will Gregory’s incidental music is more than just incidental music. It’s instantly arresting, powerful, tuneful and, frankly, worthy of an album release.

LightingAnd the magic is, well, magic. John Bulleid has created a genuinely magical landscape as the setting, from puffball lighting all around the stage that changes colour with the moods, to vibrating seats, plastic balls descending from the Gods, darting lights, twirling flowers in the ether, characters that levitate or disappear beneath the stage, and much more. Perhaps the biggest surprise of all is that none of this feels gimmicky. It takes you in and treats you to three hours of a magical environment that feels completely in keeping with the play.

Theseus and HippolytaThere’s also plenty of magic from the excellent performances. The evening starts with a hilarious scene between Bally Gill’s Theseus and Sirine Saba’s Hippolyta; him, awkward, bumbling around the stage, eager to please like Rishi Sunak in pinching shoes, and her, serious, judgmental, realising that if there’s a job to be done round here, she’d better do it herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that scene performed with such instant appeal and humour whilst still giving a direct insight into their relationship. The power is reversed in their characterisations as Oberon and Titania, where he is master of all – and everyone – he surveys, and she is subservient – until she gets her hands on Bottom, so to speak.

Lysander and HermiaThe change-partners foursome of Hermia, Helena, Demetrius and Lysander are all played with an eye to the humorous potential with a particularly physically comic performance from Ryan Hutton as Lysander, hurling himself (literally) into amorous enthusiasm while Dawn Sievewright’s Hermia battles against a progressively heavier rucksack. Boadicea Ricketts’ Helena adopts an Only Way is Essex style – the only thing missing were the occasional wotevs or you go gurl. Neil McCaul plays the gruff Egeus with disciplinary strictness – although his facial expressions during the Pyramus and Thisbe debacle are a sheer delight. Adrian Richards steals all his scenes as a Philostrate who’s the ultimate MC; I’m sure in his spare time he introduces boxing matches.

Snug and QuinceHelen Monks makes a great Peter (or in this case Rita) Quince, enthusiastically shepherding her team of budding actors and shaping them up to performance level – and providing hilarious stage management during that final scene. Laurie Jamieson, Mitesh Soni, Tom Xander and Emily Cundick give brilliant support as the thespian tradesmen; Ms Cundick’s appearance as the Wall will live on as a comic highlight for many a moon. For our performance, Premi Tamang, who normally plays Starveling, took on the role of Puck and was marvellously mischievous throughout, and everyone puts in a terrific and committed performance.

BottomBut the evening belongs to Mathew Baynton as Bottom. He makes the over-ambitious wannabe star truly shine with his brilliant physicality; and portraying Pyramus with pompous, Nureyev-like grace is a stroke of comic brilliance. Be prepared for a wonderfully over-the-top death that has you cringing in your seat. It is probably the funniest Pyramus and Thisbe I’ve ever seen.

PuckA feast of technical delights, with superb lighting, sound, visual and magical effects. They chose to accentuate the comedy – and boy did they hit the target. This dream of a Dream runs until 30th March – do not hesitate to buy your tickets.

 

 

 

Production photos by Pamela Raith

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