King Lear - Hampstead Parish Church

King Lear flyer

King Lear has for many years been my least favourite Shakespeare play and I had no intention of ever seeing it again. My heart sank when I saw it had been selected as the Hampstead Players' winter production for 2016 and, I admit, I only went to see it out of loyalty to the H. Players; Nicolas Holzapfel (King of France) in particular. The reasons for my dislike of King Lear are as follows:

• King Lear is a massive whinger and it's difficult to sympathise with him.
• The eye gouging scene.
• It's unadulteratedly mis and grim and depressing.
• I'm generally not a fan of plays where most of the characters' names are place names, i.e. Gloucester, Kent, Basingstoke etc. I seem to have a mental block where these are concerned and find it difficult to keep track of who's who.
• The eye gouging scene.
• Its extreme length.

However...this production was excellent and I'm glad I went to see it. And no, that's not just because of my association with the H. Players. It was fast-paced and had been adeptly pared down, which made it more absorbing and easier to follow. It helped that I was sitting in the front row and could see every facial expression and was able to feel part of the action. I hadn't realised how many famous Shakespeare phrases King Lear contained, including 'Childe Rowland to the dark tower came'. I'd thought that had originated with Robert Browning. All the references to madness and Bedlam were interesting, especially having recently gone to the Wellcome Collection's exhibition on Bedlam, which I would recommend! I was also impressed that this production contained humour, which I can't recall witnessing in any other production of Lear.

I admit I still struggled to sympathise with Lear, convincingly played as he was by David Gardner. I find it hard to get past the whole asking his daughters which one loves him best gambit, and his shoddy treatment of Cordelia. I really enjoyed the scenes with Lear and his Fool (Gaynor Bassey-Fish), though. I liked the attitude of the Fool towards Lear; it was simultaneously compassionate and unwilling to put up with his nonsense. Cordelia (Megan Britton) was appropriately cherubic and sympathetic, and her appearance later on in the play in camo gear made her appear more capable and action-oriented than one might expect. Her sociopathic sisters, Goneril (Margaret Pritchard Houston) and Regan (Emma Lyndon-Stanford) were played with subtlety rather than as full-blown pantomimic eeeeeeeeevil queens (although they do carry out unconscionable deeds, no question). Goneril's discomfort in the first scene, when compelled to flatter Lear, was evident. I found the scenes featuring Edgar (Matthew Williams) and his father, Gloucester (Bill Risebero), following the latter's blinding, moving. Edgar's character trajectory was probably the part of the play I found the most compelling.

Honorable mention goes to the Russian cavalry-esque trenchcoat circa 1905 sported by Albany (Jolyon Bohling) towards the end.

Is King Lear now my favourite Shakepeare play? We-ll, no. But it has been bumped up a few places. I would probably now put it above Titus Andronicus, The Two Gs of Verona, Love's Labours Lost and maybe even King John in my estimation. So, well done, Players!

The only weak link in this production, if it can be described as such, was Lear's crown, which thankfully only appeared in the first scene. It was a lovely stereotypical crown, but gave off a slight primary school nativity vibe. Which makes me wonder...does King Herod feature in nativity plays? I don't know, never having seen or experienced one.

Next: As yet unknown

Cymbeline - Barbican

Cymbeline tile

I've been to the Barbican estate a lot but this was my first visit to the theatre. Sitting in the back row of the Barbican theatre was like being ensconced in a warm, comfortable, cosy yet spacious concrete womb. I nearly had the entire row to myself. I liked the visible orchestra balconies on either side of the stage.

Yes, I chose to pay more to see the RSC's Cymbeline rather than the Globe's. As you might have guessed from the Taming of the Shrew post, I am not a fan of Emma Rice's Globe regime and am not sad that it will be brought to an early end. And that's not because I'm a fuddy-duddy or stick-in-the-mud or traditionalist or any other label leveled at Rice Regime critics. It's because I believe it's valuable to have one theatre - ONE theatre - out of the approximately 160 theatres in London and goodness knows how many theatres in the UK, in which to perform 16th/early 17th century plays in a more or less authentic manner in order to give people an insight into how they would have appeared to audiences at that time. Which actually helps people to better understand the works of Shakespeare and his contemporaries. Plus, the Globe's Cymbeline was set in London: 2016. I live in London: 2016, and I like escapism. Oh, yes, I forgot, the Globe's production was actually called Imogen, which was a good, feminist innovation. However, I'll see your Imogen, Globe, and raise you a FEMALE CYMBELINE (Gillian Bevan)!

It was interesting seeing this play soon after The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Both plays contain some of the same themes - the separation of lovers, a woman disguising herself as a man and finally 'unmasking' in the presence of her lover, female constancy and male fallibility in love...However, Cymbeline, as a later play, is MUCH BETTER than The Two Gs - the characters are significantly more complex and interesting, the plot contains more layers and twists, and the setting  - Ancient Britain - is more intriguing.

This production was highly atmospheric and absorbing, which was just as well because it was three hours long (not including interval). The costumes were modern but they weren't tied to any particular era and were quite eccentric, which helped to convey an otherworldly atmosphere. Innogen (Bethan Cullinane) started off wearing a blue denim top and white tutu, which Posthumus (Hiran Abeysekera) ended up wearing during the battle scenes. The main focal point of the set was a tree stump, which was progressively uprooted throughout the course of the play. 

I've read Cymbeline but had completely forgotten about the subplot involving Cymbeline's missing children. The scenes featuring Arviragus/Cadwal and Guideria/Polydore and their adoptive father Belarius were some of my favourites in the play. Guideria (Natalie Simpson) was my favourite character - I only realise now that the character was written as a man. I'd thought it was an unusually fierce, kick-ass female character for Shakespeare. The matter-of-fact way in which she fought and killed the manipulative potential rapist Cloten (Marcus Griffiths) was darkly comic. The instant platonic love shown by Arviragus and Guideria towards their (unknown to them) sister was funny and heart-warming. The 'fear no more the heat of the sun' speech was delivered as a beautiful song by the two siblings. 

Another strong, memorable part of the play was the battle scene, in which Posthumus fought for Britain incredibly skilfully and savagely dressed in Innogen's bloodied tutu. The denouement scene was quite funny because there were so many things to reveal. I'm sure I wasn't the only person to have completely forgotten the whole poisoning subplot. I also liked the use of projections in the background showing English translations of Latin and other languages, when the characters spoke in different languages, and map projections, showing the areas that the characters were talking about.

photo credit: Plashing Vole DSC_0615 via photopin (license)

Next: surprise!

The Two Gentlemen of Verona - Sam Wanamaker Playhouse

This encapsulates the 60s vibe of  The Two Gs of Verona

The Two Gentlemen of Verona was another play in my 'Seeing all of Shakespeare's plays, no matter how un/appealing' series. I was really looking forward to going to the SW Playhouse again to experience its magical, intense, dreamlike atmosphere in all its 1600s authenticity, so you can imagine my chagrin when I looked up the play beforehand and discovered that this production was SET IN THE 1960s!!!

It was highly discombobulating to see a play set in the 60s - with 60s outfits and a set involving flashing neon lights and modern instruments and a sound system no less - being performed in a small, wooden, candlelit theatre. With big candlelit chandeliers swaying gently overhead. It simply did.not.work. Despite my anguish about Emma Rice's new regime at the Globe, it's not the case that I'm completely against modern/other era plays ever being performed at the Globe Theatre. However, I am against modern era plays ever being performed at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse - unless, say, it's a modern play set in a cave or something. Otherwise, the candles are sorely wasted.

I can see why The Two Gentlemen of Verona is not an oft-performed play. The plot was pretty weak. I felt that the cast pulled out all the stops, but they didn't have much to work with. The titular two gentlemen of Verona, good friends Valentine (Guy Hughes) and Proteus (Dharmesh Patel), go to Milan in order to work for a while at the Milanese court. Proteus regretfully leaves behind Julia (Leah Brotherhead), the woman he loves, while Valentine falls in love with the Duke's daughter, Silvia (Aruhan Galieva), in Milan. When he arrives in Milan a bit later, Proteus also immediately falls for Silvia, forgets about Julia, and spectacularly betrays Valentine in order to carry out his wooing, which makes him either exceptionally naive, immature and mercurial, or a sociopath. Either way, a sympathetic character he was decidedly not.

The play is described as a comedy, but it's not. There were a few funny moments, but they mostly came about due to modern interpretations; for example, Valentine fleeing the court and joining a band - that is, a music-playing band - made up of notorious hippies. Music was used to good effect in this production. Comedy-wise, there was also a whole plotline about Launce (Charlotte Mills) and his dog, Crab (played by a person, Fred Thomas, not a real dog), which was supposed to be funny but which I didn't really get. It just didn't appeal to my sense of humour and I don't think I ever figured out exactly who Launce was. I generally don't like seeing people playing dogs, either.

I liked the interpretation of the final scene. Proteus assaults Silvia and threatens to rape her (see what I mean about it not being a comedy?) and only stops when Valentine intervenes. Julia is also there and she and Silvia watch in horror as the two men reconcile with each other. Proteus gets no comeuppance at all and the women are left feeling betrayed and shocked - Silvia by Valentine's happy reconciliation with the man who almost raped her, and Julia by Proteus' general assholery and assault on Silvia. In this production, Julia and Silvia both cry while the two 'gentlemen' embrace, which is a realistic reaction and one that I can imagine not being performed in Shakespeare's time.

photo credit: ArtGrafx Trippypoos via photopin (license)

Next: Cymbeline

Pride and Prejudice - Regent's Park Open Air Theatre

Regent's Park Open Air Theatre - not great photo, sorry

'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a play based on a witty yet not hilarious book, which is rendered purely comedic, loses some of its soul.' - Alice Lambert

This was my first visit to Regent's Park Open Air Theatre. I was seated in one of the end seats on the back row; too far away to see facial expressions, but I did appreciate having a more complete view of the stage. It was quite special to see the actors skittering about the set like dolls in a Regency's doll's house. The revolving set, with stairs leading up to an elegant walkway/balcony, was impressive.

There were parts of this production that I thought were well done, but overall I wasn't keen on it. It was mostly played for laughs, which meant that the characters were portrayed in an over-the-top, parodic sort of way. Yes, I know Mrs Bennet, Mr Collins and Lydia are larger than life, parodic kinds of characters...but not to the extent that they were in this production; Mrs Bennet and Mr Collins especially. And Mary Bennet! I have a special affinity with Mary, having played her last year in the Hampstead Players' P&P, and was disappointed to see her portrayed so cartoonishly in this version by Leigh Quinn. She spoke like an elderly woman and her singing was ridiculously terrible.

I didn't warm to Tafline Steen as Elizabeth, either. I thought she was great in the contemporary play Charles III, in which she played art student Jess. In P&P she spoke with a posher accent but still seemed to use the same inflections and intonations as she had done in Charles III, which made Lizzy sound too modern. But - worse - she came across as flippant and glib, especially in the scene in which she was introduced to Lady Catherine de Bourgh. There wasn't much depth or reflectiveness to her at all. 

The action went at a whirlwind pace, with scarcely any build-up to Darcy's doomed first proposal, but the ending dragged. Mr Bennet took it upon himself in the penultimate(?) scene to recount his life story - the reasons why he had married Mrs Bennet etc. - which was mildly interesting but unnecessary. A lot could have been cut from the last few scenes and more time given to the Darcy/Lizzy relationship build-up. Also, Darcy's first proposal took place at Lady Catherine's house, when the other members of the party had just gone to dinner, and were presumably waiting for Darcy and Lizzy! Unrealistic!

Having said all that, there were parts of the play that I enjoyed and thought were very good:

• Costumes!
• The relationships between the sisters. I liked the way they related and reacted to one another non-verbally in the background. For example, Jane comforting Mary after her disastrous singing episode.
• The weird hopping dance at the Netherfield Ball performed by Lizzy and Darcy (and others). I know this was another example of a reasonably serious scene played for laughs - but I did actually find it genuinely funny. It was just quite strange and original to see them moving about like that. Was it an actual Regency-era dance? 
• Mr Bennet trying to leave the room as unobtrusively as possible while Mrs Bennet tried to convince Mr Collins that Lizzy would indeed marry him.
• The final scene in which different characters spoke aloud the letters they had written to other characters, who read and reacted to them non-verbally. For example, Lizzy reacted to a letter from Lydia, in which Lydia told her how much she was enjoying life with Wickham...but that they didn't have much money, and could Lizzy please send her some? 

Lastly: why did they call Anne de Bourgh 'Annabel'? I didn't get it.

Next: The Two Gentlemen of Verona

Titus Andronicus - The Rose Playhouse

How the cutting off of hands was depicted in this production

Horrific. Foul. Gratuitously violent. Sadistic. Gut-wrenchingly awful. Full of vengeance. Enough to make you despair of humanity.

OK, enough about Leave voters, what about Titus Andronicus?*

Titus was another play I only went to see in order to achieve my goal of seeing all of the Bard's plays. I studied it at university and hated it because of its being all of the adjectives above. It's one of Shakespeare's early plays and I feel that a certain amount of macho posturing went into the writing of it.

As it turned out, Jung Han Kim's production turned out to be one of the best possible versions of Titus Andronicus I could have seen as a deplorer of extreme violence. It was highly conceptual, artistic and unpredictable, with each tiny movement carefully crafted and choreographed. The severed heads of Titus' sons were represented by head-shaped scrunched up bits of newspaper, and the cutting off of hands was shown through the pressing of hands into trays of blue paint. The production included the kinds of things that are usually included in parodies of 'artsy' plays - actors barking like dogs and writhing around on top of each other; drinking water from bottles and spewing the water into buckets (repeatedly); smearing blue paint across faces; tossing newspapers up into the air; a disgusting scene showing Tamora, Queen of the Goths, giving birth to a poo  - BUT it all somehow 'worked'. [Apart from possibly the poo scene.] I was absorbed for the entire thing, alternately disgusted, horrified and moved.

The scene depicting the rape and mutilation of Lavinia (Miranda Shrapnell) was harrowing and distressing to watch (even without fake blood) as I suppose it should be. The rapist sons of Tamora were truly animalistic. One couldn't help hoping that they would get their comeuppance - which of course, they did, in a horrible fashion. Seeing Lavinia stumble home after her ordeal was heartbreaking. I was impressed with the cast of eight, three of whom played more than one role - very different roles - and two women played men. Charles Sandford was sympathetic as the hapless Titus and Laura Hopwood chilling as the psychopathic Tamora. The part where she ate the infamous piece of pie containing the remains of her sons was memorable - it was basically three or so minutes of her just eating...and savouring.

The Rose Playhouse, site of the Rose Theatre, built in 1587, is an archaeological site. It was the perfect location for Titus Andronicus: dark, cavernous, sparse. Most of the play took place on the viewing platform, with the shadowy, watery, concrete-y archaeological area behind, but at one point the actors ran out to an area at the back of the archaeological site, from which their voices echoed. It was very atmospheric. I would definitely recommend seeing a play at The Rose.

*A late referendum joke, I know, but it made me giggle. I don't really think you're as bad as that, Leave voters.

Next: Pride and Prejudice

photo credit: Blue via photopin (license)

The Taming of the Shrew - Globe Theatre (+ mild rant)

Set of The Taming of the Shrew

I'd never been interested in seeing TTotS before due to its misogynistic nature (the wonderful 10 Things I Hate About You notwithstanding), but having recently made the momentous decision to see all of Shakespeare's plays, to the Globe I hied. I thought there was a decent chance that this production would be subversive, given Artistic Director Emma Rice's comment that she wanted it to be a version 'for the 21st century'.

Talking of Emma Rice...much as I would like to be supportive of her as new Artistic Director, I admit I'm not happy about some of the changes she's introduced at the Globe. Lights galore, speakers, amplification and, possibly most shockingly, fewer productions with Elizabethan/Jacobean costumes and music...

Is this the end of the world as we know it?

I'm hardly a traditionalist. I've seen and enjoyed plenty of modern/other era adaptations of the plays of Shakespeare and his contemporaries. But isn't the Globe meant to be THE ONE place where you can see these plays performed with more or less the same appearance and feel that they would've had in Shakespeare's day? Isn't that the Globe's whole raison d'être? Other theatres very rarely put on Shakespeare's plays in Elizabethan/Jacobean garb, and one doesn't get many opportunities to hear music from that time, either. If the Globe no longer does this, it just becomes another modern theatre - putting on great plays, sure - but plays that would be equally suited to the National Theatre or anywhere else. I don't understand why Rice would choose to discard the features that make the Globe unique. She might as well encourage members of the public to fire paintballs at the Globe's white exterior walls in order to make it more colorful and friendly and less like a scary, stuffy old theatre.

One innovation of hers with which I do agree, however, is her introduction of gender-balanced casts. This innovation is obviously as unElizabethan as a prominent lighting rig, true. But, unsurprisingly, I favour the balancing of Globe authenticity with modern ideals of equality and diversity. There's nothing that contravenes such ideals in dressing up in Elizabethan garb (especially if women can play men's parts and vice versa) and playing music from that time. Plus, if a character is played well, it's easy to forget the sex of the actor playing him/her. Equality arguments aside, women playing men and vice versa is arguably a less visually obvious departure from Elizabethan ways of doing things than a prominent lighting rig.

Lights, speakers...unauthentically Shakespearean action!

OK, enough about the New Globe Regime. This production of The Taming of the Shrew was set in Ireland in 1916, at the time of the Easter Rising. So...the costumes reflected that era, the music was played by an Irish band, the cast was Irish (or did very convincing accents) and there was the occasional Gaelic phrase thrown in. Katherine (Aoife Duffin) was such a force of nature in the first half it was impossible to imagine her becoming downtrodden. Her face was incredibly mobile and capable of admirable feats of gurning. The first half was extremely funny, involving slow motion wedding slapstick amongst other things. I hadn't expected it to be that funny. My favourite plot line was that involving Vincentio (Louis Dempsey) and his servant, Tranio (Imogen Doel), who pretends to be Vincentio while the real Vincentio pretends to be a teacher in order to get close to and woo Bianca (Genevieve Hulme-Beaman), Katherine's petulant younger sister. Tranio was both very cute and very funny, clearly delighted at assuming the role of master and full of amusing mannerisms.

The second half was predictably depressing as, following her marriage to Petruchio (Edward MacLiam), Katherine immediately became downtrodden; a shadow of her former self. I have to say, I'm impressed at Shakespeare's having created such a believable, cleverly emotionally abusive character at a time when the concept of 'emotional abuse' can't have been well-developed. It seemed pretty clear to me that Katherine went along with Petruchio's demands in this production purely because she knew that unless she did so she would get no food or rest. So...I suppose that's more subversive than Katherine having a complete personality change and genuinely growing to believe that women should be men's doormats. However, even with this interpretation, her final lengthy speech extolling female subordination was a bit much. I would've preferred it if the guests at the party at the end were revealed to be humouring Petruchio, having recognised him for the abuser that he is, and for the police to come and take him away during Katherine's final speech.

There was a lot of spitting in this production. I don't mean ordinary actorly spitting; I mean deliberate spitting as part of the play.

Next: Titus Andronicus

The Mikado - Upstairs at the Gatehouse

LEGO Japan scene

In these turbulent, uncertain, infuriating times, when one's patriotism has been drained to the very dregs, there's nothing like a bit of quintessentially English Gilbert and Sullivan to restore one's battered spirits.

G&S productions are usually done on a grand scale, so it was interesting to see one with only eleven cast members, accompanied by a single pianist rather than a full orchestra. The set was minimal, consisting of a stool and some plants. I would like to say there was a gong, but I think that was a product of my imagination. In the second half a charming Japanese-style love seat entwined with flowers materialised. The costumes were typical Mikado fare - British conceptions of traditional Japanese outfits, with black wigs aplenty. Ko-Ko's headpiece as Lord High Executioner was impressive; it had an axe sticking up out of the top, from which swung a severed doll's head.

The small-scale nature of the production didn't make it any less enjoyable. Being so close to the actors is always a boon. For the most part, the actors were considerably older than the characters they played - Sally-Ann Shepherdson as the schoolgirl Yum-Yum was fifty if she was a day - but it only added to the humour. It was very funny; recent events in British politics made good fodder for Ko-Ko's Little List. The singing was excellent, as befitted former members of the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company. I particularly enjoyed Yum-Yum and Nanki-Poo (Declan Kelly)'s parts, and the titular Mikado (Bruce Graham) had an incredibly powerful voice. I appreciated the madrigal Brightly dawns our wedding day more than I usually do; it's not one of my favourites. I wonder about the extent to which the production was abridged - unless I'm much mistaken they missed out See how the Fates their gifts allot.

It was just as well the singing was so good, because some of the actors' grasp of their lines wasn't. Pooh-Bah (Graham Stone) forgot his lines twice and Ko-Ko (Trevor Alexander) once. In all my years of theatre-going, until this night I had never actually heard an actor say 'line?'. I've seen a Maori actor tumble, bare-bottom first, into the audience; I've seen a production grind to a halt (literally) because of technical difficulties; I've heard plenty of actors come in at the wrong time and try to cover it up, but never, until this night, had I heard an actor stop and ask to be prompted for a line. And it happened three times in this production! Not to make a big deal out of it or anything...

photo credit: LEGO Culture of Japan - Kyoto Kiyomizu via photopin (license)

Next: The Taming of the Shrew