Pride and Prejudice - Hampstead Parish Church (Guest post)

Elegant Regency figures

The much-awaited and much-delayed guest review of Pride and Prejudice has finally arrived. My sincere apologies for the long wait, o fans of Alice’s London Theatre Blog – especially those in Russia who must be particularly desirous of the comfort and homely succor that this blog provides now that the Winter Solstice is upon us. I actually saw this production twice in one day. While the main reason for this was a plethora of visiting friends and relatives, my enjoyment was only magnified by the repetition – a testament to its energy and depth.

As it happens, I very nearly auditioned for this myself, but chose not to in the end. When the cast was announced, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of regret, such that only an experienced am-dram acting diva can feel, because I knew it would be a fantastic performance that I could no longer be part of. My expectations proved entirely correct.

Hampstead Players’ stalwart Sarah Day was perfectly cast as the concomitantly virtuous and sharp-witted Elizabeth Bennet, as amused by the world’s foibles as she is quietly dedicated to reposting them. Jon Waters seemed equally sincere as the congenitally arrogant Mr Darcy, his stiff pride providing much of the production’s comedy.

Two more stand-outs for me, amongst this very large and strong cast, were Rosie Wheat as the conceited alpha female Caroline Bingley, floating about the stage in a graceful haze of obnoxious self-satisfaction, and Matt Williams, whose perfect timing and facial expressions made for a Mr Collins so deluded that he was as painful as he was hilarious to witness. Special mention also goes to Margaret Pritchard Houston who, in addition to creating many of the impressive costumes (well done to the Players for going all out on this, you really can’t have a Jane Austen play without the textile eye candy), managed to make her handful of appearances as a put-upon servant laugh-out-loud moments, without ever being distracting or implausible.

I was also particularly taken by Alice Lambert’s unique rendering of Mary Bennet. The middle Bennet is generally portrayed as something of a fool, clumsily attempting pompous sermonizing to compensate for her plainness. This Mary, though clearly not immune to wanting to fight her own amongst her sisters, stood out as naturally elegant and swanlike, serenely gliding about the stage and providing what to her seemed like genuine aid to her less enlightened fellow mortals, delivered directly from the higher plane of philosophical abstractions which fortune had made her mind’s natural terrain. The tragi-comedy came from her more earthbound sistren’s reaction to these convoluted and cluelessly timed pontifications, and Mary’s hurt and incomprehension at being constantly rebuffed.

The true star of the piece was of course Jane Austen’s dialogue and the fascinating world to which has created a window, and through which we can see a strange intermingling of graceful pleasures and stiff hierarchy, strong individualism embedded into family honour, where women are permitted and expected to dazzle and shine as honourable and “accomplished” persons in their own right, all with the ultimate goal of proving their price at their family’s stall at the genteel marriage market.

It was this world that director Jane Mayfield was able to summon to the 21st Century, through an excellent adaptation of the book, delightful sets, an engaging pace with fast transitions, and some wonderfully choreographed (credit to Cristina Bancora) ballroom scenes, providing just the backdrop to the verbal sparring that we all want and expect from a great Jane Austen adaptation. It had none of the modern intrusions and frothiness of the 2005 film adaptation, and all of the the verve and dexterous philosophising of the 1813 book. Well done!

by Nicolas Holzapfel

Next: Guys and Dolls