Tag Archives: RSC

Review – Hamlet, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 18th February 2025

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Ahoy there me hearties as it’s all aboard the SS Elsinore as it crashes through the waves somewhere off the coast of Denmark. Yes, Rupert Goold’s new production risks headlines like This Hamlet is All At Sea with a nautical take on Shakespeare’s longest play, condensed at a tremendous pace into just short of three hours including an interval. There are some bold directorial decisions at play here, and most of them work extremely well, creating a memorable, vibrant, powerful, atmospheric production that has the audience gripped from the start.

Es Devlin has turned the stage of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre into a ship; a floating court if you will, its deck rising and falling in line with the choppiness or tranquillity of the sea, a permanent backdrop thanks to Akhila Krishnan’s very realistic video design. The cast must have Velcro on their shoes to stay upright through some of those stormy scenes, and you really get to understand the meaning of the phrase, those in peril on the sea. Access to the deck is gained via stairs from below at both the front and the back of the stage, as well as from various hatches on the surface of the deck. Colours, in both the set and in Evie Gurney’s costumes, are kept to the minimum, lending a harsh monochrome air to the experience.

On boardIt’s not altogether obvious why a ship setting should work for a production of Hamlet. True, an element of the story includes the prince being shipped to England with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to get executed, but his negotiations with pirates get in the way of that sordid plan and, consequently, he gets shipped back again. Otherwise, traditionally, the play is rooted in the terra firma of Elsinore; but we know that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, so to make Elsinore less firma and more instabilis makes sense. The programme notes suggest that the setting might represent the fate of the Titanic – indeed, the costumes are set in or around 1912 – in which case the final outcome is doomed from the start. Shakespeare, of course, gives us Fortinbras to arrive in the last scene and herald a new age for Denmark. But in Goold’s production, Fortinbras is one of the casualties of cuts (along with Osric and Reynaldo), so the future for Denmark is deliberately left uncertain at the end of the play.

Famously, Hamlet sets out to make Claudius reveal himself as the murderer of Old Hamlet by causing him to react to the play within the play, where a murderer pours poison into his brother’s ear.  One of the better judged cuts is to do away with a lot of the wordy narrative by the Players – as well as Hamlet and Ophelia’s audience reactions – and replace it with obscure but effective singing; basically, here The Mousetrap – as Hamlet humorously names the piece – has been turned into a musical. Another necessary change results in an odd use of language though; as there are no arrases for Polonius to hide behind to witness Hamlet’s conversation with Gertrude, he takes the downstage stairs instead. When Hamlet hears there is someone hiding down there, he can’t use his sword to dash the villain to death because it’s not long enough, so he shoots him instead. However, Gertrude still tells Claudius that Hamlet whips out his rapier when he killed Polonius.  Err.. no, he didn’t. He shot him.

SwordfightHowever, the production is incredibly successful in making the story clear and easy to understand, in an exciting setting and with excellent stagecraft. I’m a big fan of stage combat done well – primarily because if it isn’t done well, it looks ridiculous. Gertrude gives Hamlet a tremendous slap across the face in the first Act; but, topping that, I’ve rarely seen anything quite so believable and thrilling to watch as the swordfight between Hamlet and Laertes in the final scene. Not only coping with the rise and fall of the deck surface, as the ship tilts alarmingly, to my untutored eye it was Olympic standard fencing. Most impressive.

It was with a heavy heart that I realised this production had plugged in the RSC Binatone LED bedroom alarm clock circa 1981 at the sides of the stage, recalling how fatally the time theme wounded the 2018 production of Macbeth. Here it counts down from some time after 9pm to some time after 2 am, with To Be Or Not To Be delivered on the stroke of midnight. You couldn’t make it up. It was Mrs Chrisparkle who suggested that it might represent the time it took for the Titanic to sink. A shapely theory; but it’s impossible for the events of Hamlet to be crammed into four hours, no matter how speedily it’s delivered. Hamlet travels to England and back, and Laertes to France and back during the course of the play. Not even Ryanair can operate that quickly. The best thing about the clock is that it’s completely ignorable.

SalvationThe production builds to an astonishing crescendo with a final scene that makes you tingle. As the storm gets rougher and the waves toss the ship more dangerously, it starts to tilt into an unavoidable sinking position. Characters are variously poisoned or wounded by swords, and, as they die, gravity slides them down the deck towards a watery grave. It’s a remarkable visual effect and provides a telling juxtaposition with the dignity and formality of Old Hamlet’s funeral at sea with which the play starts. At the end, with no Fortinbras to rescue what’s left of the court of Elsinore, Hamlet stands up, arms outstretched, looking like the salvation of the world, and you expect him to tumble to his death; but he doesn’t. Blackout; end. It’s up to the audience to decide his fate. Does everyone die except Horatio? Or does Hamlet somehow survive and begin the renewal of Denmark?

Rupert Goold has assembled a fantastic cast who nail some superb characterisations throughout. Jared Harris gives a beautifully understated Claudius who attempts to retain his dignity whilst always coming across as guilty as sin. Too quick to lay a kind hand here, or to offer support there, you feel that when the time comes for him to confess his crime, he’s truly relieved to get it off his chest. Nancy Carroll is an excellent Gertrude, reaching for that pacifying cigarette with a ruthlessness that shows there are times when a nicotine patch just won’t do. She is more motherly than Gertrude is normally portrayed, going in for a big maternal kiss and cuddle with Hamlet as she does what she can to make him feel better after killing Polonius, which feels extremely believable; it’s the only way she can try to make good her immoral actions.

ClaudiusElliot Levey is also brilliant as Polonius; not a doddery old fusspot, but an affectionate father who likes to play infantile games with his daughter. Of course, he’s keen to stick his nose into everything from arranging the royal household affairs to critiquing the players, but Mr Levey plays him as a likeable old chap rather than an irritating old git. The always reliable Anton Lesser brings great credibility to the role of the Player King, who’s basically a jobbing actor who has done well, rather than a bighead who knows it all; he also doubles up as the Ghost of Old Hamlet – a very “real” ghost in this production and also turns in a nice cameo as the first Gravedigger. Ah yes, they don’t have gravediggers on ships, but this is a useful exception, someone has to be in charge of dispatching all those dead bodies.

Lewis Shepherd gives us a suitably hot-headed Laertes who puts revenge first and then asks questions after, and Nia Towle’s Ophelia is as strong and independent a young woman as the times would allow; her “mad scene” is as full of power and physicality as I’ve ever seen, enveloping herself around the King without the inhibitions of etiquette. And there’s an entertaining portrayal of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern by Chase Brown and Tadeo Martinez, who would easily pass for extras in The Book of Mormon. It’s always entertaining when Claudius mixes the two friends up and is corrected by Gertrude, in a scene straight out of Tom Stoppard.

HamletA production of Hamlet is always going to succeed or fail on the strength of its central performance, and here Mr Goold’s production is in the safest of hands. Luke Thallon is phenomenal. Young enough to have dreams to be shattered, and old enough to be cynical through experience, he gives a lively, physical, emotionally draining performance, delivering each line as though he’s working out what to say next; Hamlet starts sentences that he often has no idea how they will end, revealing an eloquent vulnerability that conveys his character perfectly.

Also HamletIt’s always a matter of opinion in any production as to what extent Hamlet is mad or feigns madness. Is Mr Thallon’s Hamlet mad? I sense not very. At times channelling the brash comedic smugness of the late Rik Mayall, at others deadly serious and threatening, it’s a performance of limitless possibilities and interpretations and he has the audience spellbound, waiting on his every word. And he heads up a production that’s exciting, powerful and innovative; exploring new ways of telling an old tale and telling it superbly well. On the downside: I miss Osric and Fortinbras; and there’s the clock. But on the upside: Luke Thallon, and that tremendous final scene. An absolute cracker of a production.

Production photos by Marc Brenner

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Twelfth Night, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 17th December 2024

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What could be more festive than a Christmas production of Shakespeare’s perennial favourite, Twelfth Night, with its separated twins, foppish companion, cross-garter’d steward and – naturally – a girl dressed as a boy. It simply wouldn’t be Christmas without it. This is one of Shakespeare’s most robust comedies, able to survive the slings and arrows of outrageous directorial decisions, always bouncing back again in rude health for another production.

ViolaAny outrageous decisions made by director Prasanna Puwananarajah fully emphasise his vision to set it in an indistinct but modern era and give it a yuletide boot up the backside with some superbly inventive comedy to set against the darker aspects of the plot, whilst still staying pretty much faithful to the original. And one of the ways in which this production stands out is the ease with which it flips from hilarity to darkness with a truly deft sense of balance.

Orsino and CesarioIt can be very tempting to overlook the cruelty and sadness that lurks beneath the surface of this play. The twins individually mourn the supposed loss of their sibling. Disloyalty and pretence abound; if you’re not part of the in-crowd, you’re definitely out. Sir Toby and Maria may head up their own clique when it comes to fooling Aguecheek or bullying Malvolio, but when it comes to the crunch, they don’t have any real power and get swatted down by Olivia like flies to wanton boys (wrong play, but you get my gist.)

AntonioNowhere is this clearer than with the pure decency of the character of Antonio, who gives up everything simply to serve Sebastian; bewildered by his master’s apparent denials, he is left with the bitter realisation that his generosity has been cruelly abused. And even Malvolio has feelings; he may be a puritanical killjoy, but the revenge that’s meted out on him by Olivia’s household crosses the boundary from playful teasing to outright cruelty. It’s the moment when Shakespeare becomes such a great comic writer that he bears comparison with Ayckbourn. (see end)

OliviaAnother stand-out aspect of the production is its sheer honesty and credibility. There’s not one caricature nor over-the-top characterisation; every member of the cast delivers a truly believable performance, and every situation the production presents us is recognisable and makes complete sense, despite often appearing side-by-side with something theatrically magical. Some small examples: the priest is definitely the kind of person who would drink from an I Heart Jesus mug. This particular Olivia, when trying to impress Cesario on their first meeting, would definitely castigate themselves afterwards for their idiotic use of language – What is your parentage? What was I thinking!!  Orsino’s court appears to be 100% staffed by gay men who dance together – it isn’t questioned, nor does it have to be. It just is. And it helps make sense of his initial attraction to Cesario.

FesteAnd it is genuinely thrilling to see the character of Feste, so often an awkward character to get right, brought to the fore as arguably the most central character of the entire play. He blends perfectly with all the technical aspects of the production, outlandishly dressed in one of James Cotterill’s more ridiculous costumes, magically appearing from the sky, and either manipulating or being manipulated by Zoe Spurr’s fantastic lighting design and George Dennis’ sound design. He sings Matt Maltese’s musical settings of those difficult Shakespearean songs with such genuine emotion that you want to listen to them carefully rather than – as with most Shakespearean songs – just looking forward to the moment they stop and the play can carry on.

Organ PipesAnd I haven’t mentioned the set; dominated, for the most part, by an enormous organ, with pipes so big you can hide behind, magically controlled by Feste seemingly bringing it forward and back with the power of his own summoning arms. It also provides the perfect joke when Orsino and his men arrive at Olivia’s house bearing the gift of an organ; their shock at the size of the one already installed requires their measly offering to be shunted unceremoniously offstage in embarrassment. You’ve never seen Organ Envy like it.

MalvolioGwyneth Keyworth gives us a very earnest and no-nonsense Viola, holding her own with the likes of the Duke and Olivia, convincingly portraying both a girlish boy and a boyish girl that neither can resist. Freema Ageyman has a tremendous stage presence and her Olivia is a dream of a performance, conveying all the anger and frustration of her initial state of mourning, but quickly becoming foolishly besotted in love, whilst retaining her absolute authority over her wayward household.

Sir TobyBally Gill adds another superb portrayal to his growing list of Shakespearean successes, with a very human Duke Orsino, his measured superiority tempered by a hint of fallibility and foolishness. Joplin Sibtain’s Sir Toby is the very credible drunk uncle we all recognise from family weddings; not simply a fat fool but a mischief maker who doesn’t know when to stop until it’s too late. Demetri Goritsas portrays his companion Sir Andrew not as a vacuous fop but as an easily fooled wannabe hero who lacks any of the required depth or courage to achieve his ambitions.

CastDanielle Henry is a splendidly meddlesome Maria, delighting in taking charge of the below-stairs subterfuge; Norman Bowman plays Antonio as an altruistic soul who needs someone to follow, and Rhys Rusbatch’s Sebastian is the perfect recipient for his affection – a plain-talking, fearless type who’s more than capable of looking after himself in a fight and can’t believe his luck when Olivia mistakes him for Cesario.

FesteMichael Grady-Hall brings all his amazing clowning skills to a fantastic physically comic performance as Feste, with split-second precise timing, a wonderful rapport with the audience, and a broodingly haunting singing voice. By contrast, Samuel West invests Malvolio with a fittingly wheedling, whiny voice; a quietly judgmental nuisance who casts a shadow over any good mood until he falls for Maria and Sir Toby’s deception, which allows his true self to burst forth with a mixture of lasciviousness and misplaced self-confidence. Like all the best Malvolios, when he is humiliated and destroyed at the end, you truly feel sorry for him and have nothing but contempt for his tricksters. It’s a magnificent and memorable performance.

MalvolioThe show lasts a few minutes short of three hours but it’s so enjoyable and entrancing that it barely feels like two. One of those longed-for productions where every single aspect dovetails perfectly, creating a hugely rewarding experience. One of the best RSC productions in years, make sure you see it at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre before it closes on 18th January 2025.

P. S. Only one aspect of the production befuddled me – what was all that stuff about painting the sides of the set? First Fabian, then Feste? Answers on a postcard please, to Outrageous Directorial Decisions, PO Box 99, Illyria.

P. P. S. I love the work of Alan Ayckbourn, but you do realise that was tongue-in-cheek, don’t you?

Production photos by Helen Murray

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – The Red Shoes, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 14th November 2024

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The 1948 film of The Red Shoes received mixed reviews at first, but over the years has acquired something of a cult status and a 2017 poll for Time Out magazine ranked it the fifth best British film ever. It is said to have inspired a generation of girls to become dancers, no doubt in part due to its extensive ballet sequences. However, am I alone in not realising that originally it was an 1845 cautionary fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen? And that it’s chock-full of those gruesome elements you associate with Andersen or the Brothers Grimm?

Dinner partyNancy Harris’ reimagined Red Shoes transforms Andersen’s originally vain Karen into almost the opposite. So mortified is she by the loss of her mother, that she is mute with shock when first brought into the repugnant, wealthy Nugent household, dominated by the callous and self-serving Mariella. Kindlier, but distinctly under the thumb, is her husband Bob; their out-of-control son Clive, who is possessed with a desire to kill living animals and chop off body parts, spends most of his time harassing the poor girl. Only Mags, the housekeeper, expresses concern for Karen’s welfare.

KarenKaren’s weakness is that she is easily tempted. First, by the shoemaker Sylvestor, who offers her a pair of irresistible red shoes that cause her to dance with neither inhibition nor control. And when a dinner party turns into disaster because Karen’s shoes run rampage through the china and cutlery, Mariella condemns her to a life as a kitchen maid and providing care to poor Mags who has suffered a heart attack as a result of the shock of what Craig Revel Horwood might call a Dance Disaster. Today we’d see it as very bad parenting.

Mariella and MagsKaren is tempted again to go to a ball whilst she should be looking after the ailing Mags, where she meets Prince who encourages her to stay out late dancing. Result: the old lady dies and it’s all Karen’s fault. The cautionary aspects of the original tale are clearly pushed to the forefront, with Karen feeling the full force of retribution for her selfishness. However, for me, the deliberate weaving of Karen’s story with the Cinderella tale – kitchen maid, ball, Prince, missing shoe – means that neither side is fully explored.

KarenOverall, the whole vision for the play feels a little messy. For example, we seem to be partly in a Victorian era, when you could take in an orphan to your household without any paperwork, and there is an orphans’ committee that the snobbish Mariella wants to impress; and yet Bob Nugent is making business deals on his mobile. The play is accompanied by a full score performed by Tom Slade’s superb team of seven musicians, but it’s not a musical as such, and sometimes the music almost overwhelms what’s happening on stage. Given the shoes are magical, there are a few “magic” moments in the show – although I would have hoped for a little more; however, I can report that Ryan Day’s lighting design is excellent, with the auditorium being bathed in red light at the beginning and providing some impressive eerie effects, and Colin Richmond’s set features a grand mirror of positive affirmation and a splendidly sanctimonious family portrait. And there is some delightfully outrageous footwear.

SylvestorNikki Cheung uses her skills to give us a Karen who is most at ease when giving in to the compulsion to dance, one of the highlights of the production. Dianne Pilkington’s monstrous Mariella is a marvellous comedy hypocrite, moaning about how slapping an orphan isn’t a great look in front of the chair of the Orphans’ committee, and accounting for the antisocial (not to mention illegal) behaviour of her dreadful son by virtue of his being artistic. Sebastien Torkia portrays Sylvestor as eerie and sinister, a Master Magician strangely controlling Karen’s destiny; and there’s a delightful burst of sanity from Sakuntala Ramanee as Mags, the only truly decent person in the story.

Dance Disaster DarlingI found this a strangely cold and unmoving production. I felt no connection with any of the characters – not even Karen; in fact some of them repelled me so much that I couldn’t even see their “funny side”. There are a few great lines, and a couple of lively scenes – but even so, although the chaotic dinner party in Act One is superbly choreographed as a piece of slapstick entertainment, the execution of it wasn’t as crisp as it required. The show doesn’t feel very “Christmassy”, and there’s scarcely a resemblance to the famous film. It’s quite successful as a modern re-telling of a cautionary tale with all its mental and physical cruelty, but as family entertainment there’s a lot of content that I found disturbing, let alone how a young child might react. Despite its obvious qualities and the calibre of its cast, I’m afraid this one didn’t quite do it for me.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – The New Real, RSC at The Other Place, Stratford-upon-Avon, 28th October 2024

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Late to the party for the second time in two days – we’re now in the final week of the Royal Shakespeare Company’s production of David Edgar’s new play The New Real at The Other Place. I remember almost fifty years ago being excited at reading (sadly not seeing) Mr Edgar’s Destiny, a gritty political exposé of the clutch that the Hard Right were beginning to take on Britain; and here we are again on the verge of the most vital election in the USA which could affect the way the world swings for Heaven knows how long. Not that much has changed, sadly.

Larry and RachelDavid Edgar’s fascination by all things political hasn’t weakened over the decades. The New Real looks at the machinations behind elections, the researchers and strategists who find endless ways to make their chosen candidates stand out ahead of the pack; advising on everything from how to stand at a lectern to using the Eurovision Song Contest to promote their message. Starting with the fall of the Berlin Wall, this ambitious and far-ranging play takes us through some vital moments in recent history, seen through the electoral opportunities on offer in an unnamed but only partially fictional ex-Soviet state, where its annual song festival is considered more essential to the country’s wellbeing than any strategic advisor.

LutsevicRachel Moss and Larry Yeates, battling within a perilous working partnership on the brink of collapse, are electoral and political strategists for hire, he in particular happy to take on work that financially rewards him more than interests him. Caro Wheeler, a pollster with minute attention to detail, advises them with all the essential facts and figures from her endless focus groups. First supporting the presidential candidate Lutsevic, they switch to Bezborodko when research reveals her profile is more palatable to the electorate. But can their operation continue when Rachel works for one candidate and Larry drifts towards another? And furthermore, what happens when one candidate starts hammering home their old off-script, pro-Soviet beliefs?

CompanyHolly Race Roughan always brings her own stamp to whatever play she directs, and The New Real is no exception. It’s staged in traverse, always a bold choice which offers an audience a different way of looking at a play. Dividing an audience into two parts, they see the same performance but from two opposing sides, much as an election divides the people who have judged party manifestos from two different angles. There may be a suggestion that it provides a show-off catwalk for the parties to strut and flaunt their views and policies in front of us. It also accentuates a suggestion of invasiveness, such as the opening scene where Larry is interrupted using the Gents toilet to be harangued by others, or indeed where his shower is disturbed by an unexpected visitor. There is no hiding place in traverse.

Rachel and CaroThe set is dominated by six huge screens on either side of the stage, showing various political video footage from the Second World War to the present day; at first, you wonder how they’re going to perform around them because they seem fixed solid. But as the show starts the lower three screens glide up behind the upper screens, which continue operating throughout the play, setting context and location. One might feel that maybe the screens dominate the proceedings just a little too much, but then again that just emphasises the importance of what appears on our screens at election time.

Oleg and NataliaThe first Act is extremely intense and packed with content – an overloaded whirlwind of information that at times it’s hard to keep up with what’s going on. But you certainly go into the interval with your head buzzing with the ruthlessness of the democratic procedure. The second Act, however, is blissfully riveting drama throughout, driven by a clear, powerful narrative that makes us desperate to discover who wins the election – not that it’s as simple as that, as we discover. As an aside, it’s also an excellent portrayal of how Americans (for the most part) don’t understand the concept and power of Eurovision; and I really admire Mr Edgar for getting so many facts about the contest right!

Martina LairdMartina Laird is outstanding as Rachel Moss, a wily, ruthless, opinionated but also very engaging personality, ducking and diving her way through intrigues, knowing when to back off and offer the sincere apology; she’s a brilliant creation and Ms Laird nails it. Lloyd Owen is also very powerful as the belligerent but gifted strategist Larry, Machiavellian, determined, fearless and tetchy – a very believable characterisation. Jodie McNee is excellent as the ever resourceful Caro, Roderick Hill is also terrific as Petr Lutsevic, the candidate who goes too far, and Patrycja Kujawska is great as Liudmilla Bezborodko, progressing from a down-at-heel campaign manager mistaken for a cleaner, to the elegant, no-nonsense, power-dressing president whom you wouldn’t dare cross. And indeed the entire company puts in a superb, committed performance.

Lloyd OwenIt’s not a perfect play. There are elements of the first Act which drag and come across as stodgy; and there’s an important scene where the motivation behind Caro’s actions are not made sufficiently clear and it left us, and I suspect others, bewildered. However, that doesn’t detract from the play’s impact, relevance and its wholescale depressingly realistic take on modern democracy. As a voter, you are a mere bit-part in a larger strategy to attain power and wealth for others. Trust no one and nothing.

Production photos by Ikin Yum

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Othello, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Company, Stratford-upon-Avon, 22nd October 2024

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Poetry versus prose; a balance seen throughout Shakespeare’s tragedies. The elegant, effervescent, emotional language of the tragic hero set against the inward-looking, low-level gutter tactics of the scoundrel who’s out to get him. Lear has his Edmund to contend with, but perhaps more than in any other Shakespeare tragedy, the epitome of the great man brought down by a lowlife is embodied in Othello and Iago. And there’s no doubt that Tim Carroll’s new production for the RSC conveys those opposites effectively. However, despite several excellent technical aspects, and good story-telling skills, there are also many ways in which this production disappoints.

Shimmering BoxOn entering the auditorium you are met with a shimmering curtain made of what looks like gauze strips plunging down from the roof in a box shape. As the performance begins, the box is seen to contain fifteen or so cast members singing with rousing operatic skills one of composer James Oxley’s specially written pieces for the production. It sets a formal, alien, but very stylish tone. The music returns occasionally throughout the show; always immaculately delivered and a treat for the ear, but as a refreshing musical sorbet rather than integral to the piece.

A handkerchiefThe shimmering curtain also appears at the back of the stage, swooshing in and out to provide a place for the characters to hide offstage but still be part of the scene; it’s visually intriguing and stimulating. Apart from the occasional presence of the shimmering box the stage is bare – giving plenty of opportunities for our imaginations to fill in the scenes. The lighting, too, casts many an atmosphere over the proceedings, and Judith Bowden’s costume design has gone down the traditional route, with a goodly amount of doublet and hose and a plethora of bustles.

IagoUnfortunately, it’s when we come to the content of the performance that things start to fall apart. At the heart of the problem is Will Keen’s performance as Iago. Iago hides in plain sight, usually as a likeable confident, able to hold his swagger with the best of them, so that it’s a true shock to everyone when his real character is revealed. However, this Iago is a sneaky, whiny, snidey, muttering dogsbody who tends to inwardly converse rather than share his thoughts with the audience. You sense he concocts his wicked plans in real time, rather than their being well planned, and he amuses himself with his own duplicity. Although this portrayal of Iago is totally believable in itself, I find it hard to believe this would be the kind of person that Othello would have considered to be worthy of becoming his most trusted ancient.

Othello and DesdemonaIt also sets the tone for the rest of the production – an Othello devoid of emotion, distant, detached, bloodless, and surprisingly high in cynical humour. In fact I’ve never seen a production of Othello that is so played for laughs. Regrettably, this works against the play’s essential tragedy so that the moments of high drama are lost. It really should not be the case that Iago’s murder of his wife Emilia is a cause for laughter; let’s face it, domestic violence is not funny. The ultimate act of horror in the play, when Othello kills Desdemona, is unexpectedly performed in total darkness, as if to deny it’s really happening. All we can hear is some uncomfortable scuffling, like the sound of a fishmonger trying to restrain a feisty flounder flapping around on a slab. I’m afraid it was quite ludicrous.

Roderigo, Iago, CassioThere is a sense of the production being stylised for stylisation’s sake. I could not understand, for example, why characters would walk towards the stage along the aprons and then hover in stagey dramatic mode before entering it. It looks pompous. As the end-of-play deaths increase, Emilia and Othello calmly join Desdemona within the shimmering box of doom, like a trio of isolated computer viruses destined to cause no harm. And the scene where Iago wounds Cassio and murders Roderigo takes place without them being anywhere near each other, each in their own spotlight; it had all the dramatic intensity of Tess Daly revealing that Cassio would be up against Roderigo in the dance-off.

OthelloWhereas Will Keen is very at ease putting his own spin on Iago’s prose, John Douglas Thompson seems less at ease with Othello’s poetic speeches, especially in the first act where it often feels more like a recital than a lived experience. He warms up considerably after the interval where, gripped by the green eyed monster, he literally buckles under the weight of torment and gives a powerful portrayal of a great man totally broken.

DukeThere is one highpoint of absolute dramatic tension, when Othello grips Iago by the throat in his fury; it stands out as being a genuine “letting-go” moment, but even so its power is reduced by Iago’s post-clutch semi-comic reaction. Jethro Skinner’s well-pitched Roderigo is only very lightly foppish, although Colin Hurley’s Brabantio is more of a pantomime buffoon, and John Paul Connolly makes the most of his appearance as the Duke of Venice.

EmiliaJuliet Rylance gives us a very clear, demure and uncomplicated Desdemona, but it is only Anastasia Hille who truly gets under the skin of her character Emilia with some devastatingly eviscerating speeches that seal her fate at the hands of her villainous husband.

Iago and the ladsEven then, because of the frigid nature of the entire production, there’s no emotional reaction to Emilia’s fate, nor indeed, anyone’s. The essentially cerebral, delicate and remote stylisation tells the story clearly but also becomes monotonous, which must be a cardinal sin in a production of this most vibrant and eloquent of Shakespeare’s plays.

Production photos by Johan Persson

Two Disappointing For More!

Review – Romeo and Juliet, Northern Ballet at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 19th September 2024

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Ballet at the RSC? Surely not Dame Judi and Sir Ian gracing us with their pas de deux? Although I understand Sir Derek Jacobi’s entrechats are to die for. No! I’m kidding. Northern Ballet’s Romeo and Juliet, a mainstay of their programming over the last thirty years, has been rescued from the disaster that occurred in 2015 when the costumes and sets were ruined by flood damage. Painstaking work by gifted people has restored and renewed them so that once again Massimo Moricone and the late Christopher Gable’s work can be enjoyed by fresh generations.

R&J at the RSCTheir first port of call on their autumn tour is at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre and it’s an inspired choice of venue. Unlike most theatres likely to host ballet companies, the RST has a thrust stage, so it basically has less width but more depth; and for ballet that gives the opportunity for the dancers to perform deeper into the auditorium and share their grace and skill more closely with the audience. The result is that, although the Royal Shakespeare is a large, grand theatre, the performance can take on a surprisingly intimate form; and that’s perfect for a project such as Northern Ballet’s Romeo and Juliet with its stunning choreography and its timeless, tragic love story.

Juliet and ParisLez Brotherston’s sets look good as new, with their suggestion of the Romanesque grandeur of Verona; a central piazza with overlooking balconies and historic ruins yielding a usefully large bare area to fill with dancers. Those restored costumes are literally a sight to behold; the Capulets in black but still brash with colour, the villagers in their drab greys and browns, and the masked partygoers inspired by commedia dell’arte. In contrast, the pale, light simplicity of Romeo and Juliet’s costumes stand out, reflecting their innocence and youth.

TybaltMoricone’s choreography blends perfectly with Prokofiev’s score. It pulls no punches with the brutality of the Capulet regime but also allows the tenderness of the star-cross’d pair, whose love was doomed to fail, to come through; both in their ecstatic love dance that concludes Act I and their morning bedroom scene that opens Act III. It also gives Mercutio many opportunities to show off and play the joker, it has a star comedic moment for Juliet’s nurse in the letter-delivery scene, and a sadly funny portrayal of Juliet rejecting the marriage proposal of Paris. Twice. It also tells the story with absolute clarity, and you can’t always say that about ballet. The simple reconciliation at the end between the Lords Montague and Capulet confirms the pointlessness and devastation caused by their stupid family enmities.

Romeo and JulietThere is an elephant in the room; or rather, it’s not in the room, it’s absent. For the first time Northern Ballet are using recorded music rather than a live orchestra. There’s no doubt it’s an excellent recording; but nothing beats the real thing. A live orchestra has one big practical advantage over a recording – it gives flexibility to the stage performance, allowing the conductor to pause for the audience’s reaction to a scene’s climax before continuing. This is especially important with classical ballet as you never know if a star turn is going to produce an unexpected thunderous round of applause. The last thing you want is for the dancers to be forced to continue before the audience is ready. With Prokofiev’s outstanding, sumptuous themes – not just the famous Montagues and Capulets march but his fragile motifs for Juliet, his Gavotte borrowed from his Classical Symphony, and so much more – a live performance of the music would have been the icing on the cake. However, I don’t need to tell you how underfunded the Arts are. Touring with an orchestra is not an inexpensive option; but music and ballet are inextricably linked. It takes a wiser person than me to balance this financial/artistic dilemma.

JulietThe dancers change roles regularly throughout the run, so you may see a different cast. However, at our performance the main role of Juliet was danced by leading soloist Saeka Shirai and she is exquisite. Her expressions, her enthusiasm, her grace, and her amazing pointe work are all just a joy to watch. She’s one of those performers who, when she’s on stage, in the words of Emily Dickinson, saturates sight; you forget to look at everyone else. Her Romeo was Harris Beattie who performs with effortless physical strength and superb technique.

MercutioJun Ishii was Mercutio and Filippo Di Vilio was Benvolio, and the three of them performed some terrific trios, embodying a surprisingly convincing laddish bromance. Mr Ishii threw himself wholeheartedly into Mercutio’s cheeky insolence with a superbly crowd pleasing performance; surely he’s ready for promotion to junior soloist after this run. George Liang was a marvellously surly and acrobatic Tybalt, and Helen Bogatch stood out as a remarkably dour-faced Lady Capulet; there’s one matriarch you wouldn’t want to cross. And Dominique Larose gave us a wonderfully fussy and bustling Nurse, sweetly waddling around the stage and endearing herself to everyone.

Lady CapuletGreat to see this production again – I last saw it in High Wycombe in 1998! It continues at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre until 28th September, before it travels on to Southampton, Canterbury and Newcastle. Northern Ballet’s other current productions, A Christmas Carol, Jane Eyre and Hansel and Gretel, begin touring in November. Will there be any more collaborations between Northern Ballet and the Royal Shakespeare Theatre? Let’s hope so – it’s the perfect staging for grand, yet intimate dance.

Production photos by Emily Nuttall

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

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!