Tag Archives: Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre

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“Romeo and Juliet” from Shakespeare’s Globe

This trip to the summer of 2009, generously available during lockdown from globeplayer.tv, is a classy affair that is blissfully difficult to find fault with. Director Dominic Dromgoole’s production has plenty of traditional touches – including gorgeous period costumes from designer Simon Daw – a fresh appreciation of the text from a cracking cast, and a seemingly effortless handling that makes it easy to recommend.

Dromgoole’s skill is clear – he makes the play tight and concise without losing any nuance. There’s a dark undertone appropriate to the star-crossed lovers that shows “violent delights have violent ends”. Ian Redford’s excellent Capulet possesses a frightening anger, while his wife’s grief for their nephew Tybalt’s death makes a fine scene for Miranda Foster. Both render palpable the vendetta that exists in Verona, presided over by a bruiser of a Duke lifted from London’s East End (an excellent Andrew Vincent). A sense of excitement is aided by some of the best fight scenes I’ve seen – congratulations Malcolm Ranson on those.

Alongside this drama, Dromgoole brings out a gentle humour in Romeo and Juliet that feels distinct and is delivered without too much exaggeration. Jack Farthing’s Benvolio benefits most but there’s also a strong turn from Fergal McElherron as a crowd-pleasing servant and Tom Stuart’s hapless Paris is watchable and endearing. The wordplay that makes up so much of the text feels light and witty – something that we are welcome to enjoy rather than scratch our heads over.

Ultimately, any production of Romeo and Juliet has to rely on its leads and this one benefits from a couple who gauge the tenor of the production perfectly. Adetomiwa Edun makes a charming Romeo and does especially well in showing how bright his character is. And there’s a dangerous edge; kicking Tybalt when he is down proves a startling move. Ellie Kendrick makes sure her Juliet is a “soft subject” for “Heaven’s stratagems”. Shy and modest until tragedy strikes, she ends up shaking with grief. Enforcing the youth of the couple proves effective. Dromgoole makes sure the action escalates as we see the youngsters trapped in events beyond their control. Excellent work from tense start to tragic finish, with a confidence that ensures, along the way, we come to care for and admire them both.

Photo by John Wildgoose

Available until 3 May 2020 on globeplayer.tv

To support visit www.shakespearesglobe.com

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“Hamlet” from Shakespeare’s Globe

Six free plays to help theatre-goers on lockdown, along with lots of interesting content and even the show’s programmes, have been made available by Shakespeare’s Globe. My first choice, the one I most regretted not seeing when I had the chance, was Michelle Terry’s performance as The Dane. Marking Terry’s appointment as the venue’s artistic director in 2018, while a female Hamlet is nothing new, it was a bold risk. It’s pleasing to say the confidence paid off – Terry is fantastic and the production very good.

Directed by Federay Holmes and Elle While, aside from having a woman in the title role (which surely shouldn’t shock… but still) this is a sensible, even traditional, show. There are even, mostly, period costumes in Ellan Parry’s design – all a part of rendering the play accessible and the delivery natural. As a part of these admirable qualities, this is also a snappy show, just over two-and-half hours, with sensitive cuts and an unerring eye on keeping the action moving.

The production is a model of clear-thinking. Benefitting most is James Garnon’s Claudius, whose delivery is remarkably fresh. A poor schemer (after all, most of his plots fail), he often seems confused and struggling with the situation – an interpretation that adds interest and tension. Garnon’s is an understated performance, a quality shared by Helen Schlesinger’s Gertrude – at first frosty, “when sorrows come”, she reacts magnificently.

It might be better if the admirable restraint was universal. Shubham Saraf’s Ophelia and Bettrys Jones’ Laertes both come across as hysterical in contrast; their roles are used as a foil to the royal family a little clumsily. And I suspect it will surprise no one that Pearce Quigley’s Rosencrantz is played for laughs: in this instance his comic talents are something of a shame. The accompanying Guildenstern (Nadia Nadarajah) uses sign language, which proves fascinating, and Quigley comes across as a distraction.

These are quibbles in what is a very fine production. Holmes, While and Terry carry clarity into the production’s argument. Of Hamlet’s actions and emotions, they would claim, “it is not madness” – a position adhered to with consistency and made convincing. Terry delivers the “wild and whirling words” with credible mania. And she can be scary – not just when she looks like a demented clown. But what happens if you don’t think Hamlet is mad? Taking him as “sweet and commendable”, Terry invests incredible emotion into his plight. The soliloquies are always intense, but Terry makes them more emotional than ever. Like the “sweet Prince”, I often had a tear in my eye, making this a Hamlet to remember.

Photo by John Wildgoose

Available until 19 April 2020 on globeplayer.tv

To support visit www.shakespearesglobe.com

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“The Merry Wives of Windsor” at Shakespeare’s Globe

Shakespeare’s comedy, containing all manner of trials for married life, could well be the perfect fit for the South Bank venue that bears his name. In Elle While’s production, the often broad humour enjoyed in productions at The Globe is in full force. The show is as smutty as it is witty, all out to include the crowd, and a great deal of fun.

The setting for Sir John Falstaff’s efforts to become a gigolo – and the plots to stop him – is updated to the 1930s. The decade provides some lovely costumes from designer Charlie Cridlan while Frank Moon’s music adds a great deal of energy. But the production is very much for today, with an eye on the #metoo movement the men here are pretty awful. I’ll not argue with the observation but there’s a danger, as men try to tyrannize wives and daughters, that the comedy will turn sour; it’s While’s achievement that the play still manages to be funny.

With the husbands, who aren’t really going to be cuckolded, Forbes Masson has a nice line in apoplectic rage while Jude Owusu does well with his character’s jealousy. The men who surround their houses, a trio of suitors and a Welsh parson, are also easy to laugh at (with Richard Katz’s ‘Allo ‘Allo accent making him stand out). Meanwhile, Falstaff becomes a real villain. The interpretation is fair enough when you consider his plans. Pearce Quigley’s performance is undoubtedly a success: his deadpan delivery gets a lot of laughs and his plentiful adlibs, while getting most of their charge from seeming irreverent, are good. Just one question, against all the odds, don’t we want Falstaff to have some charm?

There’s no doubting Quigley’s success with physical comedy – he can really hold a stage. Indeed a big key to the success of the show lies with its continual movement, most obviously with Sasha Milavic Davies’ choreography and a lovely little recap scene that is mimed. But a combination of manic dashes and confident surveying of the stage are carefully balanced throughout. The Merry Wives of Windsor isn’t a true farce, the pace is different and While understands that. You can see the combination in Falstaff’s final humiliation, when the cast mask themselves for a fairy masque, (which will look quite lovely when the weather improves) – here’s a scene marked by a wonderful sense of rhythm.

The real triumph of the production comes with the women in the play which it brings to the fore and makes the real stars. Sarah Finigan and Bryony Hannah take the leads as the eponymous wives and give delightful performances. They’re joined by a feisty Anne, the wonderful Boadicea Ricketts, who excels at carrying the show’s story of young love. And the play’s democratic bent adds further joy with its working class figures. There’s Mistress Quickly, of course, but a clever recasting of the local landlord as a hostess makes both Anita Reynolds and Anne Odeke major roles that add heart to the show. Revelling in its female characters, While delivers not just merry wives, but merry women all around, and a happy audience as well.

Until 12 October 2019

www.shakespearesglobe.com

Photo by Helen Murray

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“Edward II” at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse

While few productions at Shakespeare’s Globe lack contemporary touches, it doesn’t seem too reactionary to suggest that the venue’s glorious indoor site needs them the least. Nobody wants theatrical reconstruction – impossible anyway – but seeing a play in a manner close to that experienced by Christopher Marlowe’s original audience is a special thrill. Congratulations to director Nick Bagnall for this surprisingly traditional affair. Ironically, amidst so many interpretations and so much theory in the theatre, it makes for a refreshing change.

While Bagnall presents the story of England’s troubled king and his love affair with lower-class servants simply – making great use of the space, particularly the candlelight, and its unique intimacy – he isn’t enthralled by the text. As a strict editor, he presents a complex plot efficiently and isn’t held captive by it. Doubling – and trebling – of roles by the hardworking cast is expertly handled (special praise for Annette Badland and Sanchia McCormack), making the action clear throughout.

Plot is to the fore – it’s an interesting story, after all. Emotional impact is ensured by strong performances, primarily from Tom Stuart in the lead role, who gives us a man it’s hard not to sympathise with, despite his flaws. There’s charismatic work from Beru Tessema as Edward’s first love, Gaveston, and a superb performance from Colin Ryan as the replacement in the king’s affections, Spencer. Cleverly, there’s little eroticism in the production – the men’s concern is with status more than sexuality – and, arguably, Bagnall takes us closer to Marlowe’s concerns than contemporary ones.

A focus on the action does deprive us on one point, though. While it’s clear an effort has been made to make the role of Edward’s queen central, Katie West struggles with the part. Isabella’s own obsession with Edward, an essential counterpoint that could make her seem just as unstable as her husband, is missing. Even worse, the depths of Isabella’s relationship with the treacherous Mortimer (Jonathan Livingstone) – that they “kiss while they conspire” – are unexplored. The delivery of these fascinating characters is far too flat.

This is a close study of the play, which has resulted in careful insight. Polly Frame’s Kent has a wonderful final scene: as the shock of the character’s execution dawns, her role comes into focus magically. And there’s terrific work from composer Bill Barclay. Bagnall deals superbly with a text that, while containing wonderful poetry – delivered especially well by Stuart and Tessema – also has a lot of narrative detail. Constant direct appeals to the audience (making us Edward’s judges many times) and a remarkable dynamism in the performances all add to a solid, quality production.

Until 20 April 2019

www.shakespearesglobe.com

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“Emilia” at Shakespeare’s Globe

Ostensibly an historical biography of poet and proto-feminist Emilia Bassano, playwright Morgan Lloyd Malcolm and her director Nicole Charles have current times very much in mind for a play that’s about sexism and racism.

The key move is to use the fact that little is known about Bassano. If the name rings a bell, it’s as the reputed ‘dark lady’ of Shakespeare’s sonnets: the casting takes this literally to examine prejudices suffered due to race as well as gender. The wish is to reclaim women and minorities in history, and the result is unashamedly political.

The language alone tells you the target is the here and now. There’s talk of positions of privilege and mansplaining and, when it comes to dancing, they “slay”. Lloyd Morgan’s many eloquent turns of phrase include a motif of “uprooted growth” for Bassano’s African origins: a heritage that means she is used as a “curiosity” at court – a double whammy of abuse.

We get not one but three Emilias, who are all impressive. Led by a magisterial Clare Perkins, there are strong performances from Vinette Robinson and Leah Harvey, who work together to take us through the character’s life.

Leah Harvey and Charity Wakefield

The all-female ensemble supports with vigour in a variety of roles, most entertainingly when taking on male parts. Sophie Russell’s Lord Howard is great, with a brilliant dash of Lord Flashheart from Blackadder. And we get to meet Will Shakespeare himself – a delicious performance from Charity Wakefield – who gets a poor rap considering he’s one reason we’re all sitting on the Southbank. Appropriating some of Bassano’s lines, he’s part of the problem, saved only by being amusingly ineffectual. Emilia is specially commissioned for The Globe, a scene is set in the theatre and Charles uses the space superbly – maybe the chance to resist bardolatry was irresistible.

It seems safe to say Lloyd Malcolm hopes to stir debate. Uncomfortable parallels with Elizabethan immigration policy are leapt on and Emilia’s wish for a “voice” is a recurring theme. There are some problems: religion is mostly omitted and considering class brings a lot of trouble. Emilia comes to see her own privilege and, as is de rigueur, has to be reminded that victimhood isn’t a competition by a circle of sisterly support, Yet with the working-class women Emilia befriends, somewhat miraculously, we are in tarts-with-hearts territory too quickly.

This is an openly angry affair and that may turn some people off. Yet the sense that theatre can do something, a calling to account and an empowerment, is sincere and moving. But it does have an unfortunate consequence. The play destines itself to fail as biography: the action is too brief, taking on too many key moments (a baby daughter’s death feels especially truncated), when fewer might have been addressed in more depth. The result is little sense of Emilia as an individual. The character can’t get away from the – always admirable – arguments. You can cheer along with many of the sentiments, but is there a question that Emilia is merely being used all over again?

Until 1 September 2018

www.shakespearesglobe.com

Photos by Helen Murray

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“The Two Noble Kinsmen” at Shakespeare’s Globe

This is Michelle Terry’s first season as artistic director on Bankside. And good luck to her. While she takes on Hamlet, and has programmed other big beasts, it’s notable and reassuring that there is new writing to come later in the summer, and the chance to see this less performed work, penned later in life by Shakespeare working with John Fletcher. Colourful and crowd pleasing, this production is an accessible and entertaining introduction to the piece.

Following the adventures and love rivalry between the titular cousins, Arcite and Palamon, as they battle for marriage to Emilia, is quite the tale, crazily combining courtly manners, ancient gods and plenty of characters who are literally mad for love. Director Barrie Rutter, of Northern Broadsides fame, has only worked at the Globe once before but shows a clear command of the space. There are strong costumes from Jessica Worrall and lots of music from Eliza Carthy. Any incongruous notes go to show how much Rutter wants to reach out and grab the audience’s attention, hence the story is clearly presented, the staging swift and the action exciting.

This is an actors’ production. Rutter makes a focal point of the performances, rather than any kind of concept or argument, and the result is relaxed and enjoyable. Right from the start there’s the stylish Jude Akuwudike as Theseus and Moyo Akandé as Hippoltya to impress, while Ellora Torchia plays their sister Emilia and excels with the plot’s incredulous moments – of which there are many. The play rests with the leading men, and Bryan Dick and Paul Stocker deservedly steal the show. They can both cut a dash as heroic figures making us (almost) believe in their desire to die to for love, while also enjoying their sudden rivalry.

It can be tricky to have fun with Shakespeare – some people get upset if you try. But here the jibes at valour and exaggerated love are so convincing there’s a case that Bard’s efforts with Fletcher have their own knowing irony. There’s still the suspicion that the piece wouldn’t be performed without Shakespeare’s name attached as the concerns and references are too arcane. But the production makes a strong case for the play, undaunted by its oddity and rooting itself in heady emotions that remain recognisable.

Until 30 June 2018

www.shakespearesglobe.com

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“The Secret Theatre” at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse

Running in repertory with the excellent Romantics Anonymous, this new play by Anders Lustgarten is a similarly accessible affair, with an emphasis on entertainment. Everyone loves a bit of Tudor history and this story of spymaster Francis Walsingham, impeccably performed by Aidan McArdle, delivers plenty of it. While the famed intelligencer comes to find himself trapped by “too many stories” – from the Babington plot, to the Spanish Armada – Lustgarten condenses the happenings expertly, and the exciting intrigue is perfectly marshalled by director Matthew Dunster.

We get a monarch – Good Queen Bess, of course – none other than Tara Fitzgerald rising to the task with the aid of costumes by Jon Bausor. She appears gloriously like a painting at first, in a dress that itself deserves an award. But this is a far cry from the Virgin Queen. Bringing Elizabeth I to the stage must count as the biggest challenge for both writer and performer – and it becomes their biggest achievement. It’s a new take on the queen we can recognise and enjoy: this bullying and foul-mouthed “mad dog” (Lustgarten does swearing on stage very well) is used for dramatic purposes to great effect.

Tara Fitzgerald and Aiden McArdle
Tara Fitzgerald and Aiden McArdle

Lustgarten has a reputation as a provocative and political writer. His version of Elizabeth might possibly shock if you take his contrary streak too seriously. But the politics, in the form of parallels with our own increasingly surveyed state, are neat and often funny. It’s never subtle, but if you have good point then why not shout about it? Small gripes are the piece’s lack of peril (much of the tension comes from Dunster’s brilliant use of the candlelit venue and composer Alexander Balanescu’s contribution), and that emotion is generally in short supply – although McArdle does his best. But as a spy story the history works as well as you would expect and there are strong turns from espiocrats Burleigh, Pooley and Phelippes played by Ian Redford, Edmund Kingsley and Colin Ryan.

The Secret History is historical fiction that uses the past to tell a new story about our own times. Having done his research, Lustgarten is entitled to play around – and don’t forget that there have been plenty of outlandish theories about Elizabeth. Some of the speculation here is far-fetched, and not all of it is sure-footed: Lady Frances and Sir Philip Sydney have some distinctly modern sensibilities, while a nice try at depicting a working-class perspective isn’t given time to develop. The play escalates into conspiracy theory quickly – but spies are ripe for that and it all works well theatrically. With a nice twist to solidify its thought- provoking ambitions, we are sent home happy and, just maybe, a little wiser about the theatrics behind power.

Until 16 December 2017

www.shakespearesglobe.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

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“Romantics Anonymous” at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse

With her last show in charge at Shakespeare’s Globe, Emma Rice is going out in style with a musical romantic comedy that showcases her talents. This adaptation of the French film Les Émotifs Anonymes, is hilarious and heart-warming with a sense of wonder – at stories and making theatre – that is Rice’s trademark appeal.

The story of two chocolate makers falling in love sounds sickly sweet but a big dose of humour prevents any cloying aftertaste. Angélique and Jean-René are pathologically shy – émotif as the French say – and that’s the obstacle they have to overcome to find love. It’s great material for a musical: when the tongue-tied characters can’t speak, they can sing. And the scenario allows the lead performers, Carly Bawden and Dominic Marsh, to win hearts, as we fear and hope alongside them.

You’d be cold indeed not to fall for this fumbling pair. But to cater for cynics, Rice’s book for the show has a cool edge. The therapies tried (including the film’s titular support group) are viciously funny. As is pointed out, the secret of chocolate is a touch of bitterness. So, alongside all the Gallic sensitivity, we have old-fashioned English wit. Even the self-help tape Jean-René listens to loses patience with him! Great jokes and a sense of playfulness mean laughs throughout.

While Bawden and Marsh are brilliant as our emotionally challenged couple, this is the kind of ensemble piece Rice excels with. The often Breton-topped troupe takes on a range of delightful roles. Take your pick: Joanna Riding as Angélique’s uncouth mother, or Gareth Snook as two chocolate shop owners, both male and female. When the cast assemble as the misfit support group, each and every characterisation gets a laugh.

Although the comedy numbers are superb from the start, Michael Kooman’s sophisticated score gets off to a slow start and the lyrics by Christopher Dimond seem serviceable rather than inspired. But, like another description of chocolate from Angélique and Jean-René, the music has a complexity and power that builds.

Despite its everyday story, and a score of satisfying references, Romantics Anonymous is an original. It’s the first new musical at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse for a start. It glorifies in lo-fi touches, often Rice’s forte, that show each moment approached with fresh intelligence. It revels in the mechanics of theatre, creating complicity with the audience, with a novel self-deprecation. But the underlying, unabashed aim here is to create theatrical magic. And Rice succeeds so well, you feel gratitude for experiencing this great show.

Until 6 January 2018

www.shakespearesglobe.com

Photo by Steve Tanner

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“Twelfth Night” at Shakespeare’s Globe

Emma Rice has chosen well for her last show as director of the Globe, with a cross-dressing comedy that updates the Bard for our gender-fluid times. If you don’t think Shakespeare and Sister Sledge mix, then be warned – Rice’s energy, sensitivity and sense of irreverence are bountiful. The disco lights are on and it’s time to celebrate her reign at The Globe.

Let’s not forget that organising a good party is hard work and can call for tough decisions. There are moments of forced jollity – musical chairs proves messy – and a close reading of the text isn’t invited. But the passion in Twelfth Night is frenzied and Rice’s insight is to allow this. Nasty edges have poignancy, fate is presented as a choreographed natural phenomenon (cleverly mocked as a touch of “community theatre”) and the laughs are manic.

The twins, Sebastian and Viola, whose adventures we follow, are used to anchor the show. In these roles Anita-Joy Uwajeh and John Pfumojena impress, respectively showing a touching vulnerability and sounding particular gorgeous. The confused suitors who fall for the ship-wrecked siblings are played by Annette McLaughlin, who makes for a joyous Olivia, and Joshua Lacey, whose river-dancing-mullet-sporting-lothario Duke is the funniest I’ve seen.

Marc Antolin
Marc Antolin

The trio of pranksters in Olivia’s house continue the strong comedy. Sir Toby, Fabian and Maria, played by Tony Jayawardena, Nandi Bhebhe and the super-talented Carly Bawden (another strong voice) really go for it. The revelation is Marc Antolin as Aguecheek, transforming the role with physical comedy, ad-libs and fluorescent Y-fronts. And a lisp… sorry, but lisps are funny.

Katy Owen
Katy Owen

What the production takes seriously is drag, spoiling us with cabaret star Le Gateau Chocolat, whose Feste steers the tempestuous proceedings like a glittering, magical MC. It’s impossible to steal a show from six feet of sequins, but Katy Owen’s Malvolio holds his/her moustachioed own. Funny again (well, most jokes are better with a Welsh accent), Owen tackles bullying intelligently, tempting us to join in, then allowing the character to retain some dignity. Role-play can be dangerous.

All good parties depend on their soundtrack. Rice’s secret weapon is Ian Ross, whose compositions dominate the show: driving plots, aiding comedy, interacting with the text – check them out online. Using so many lines as lyrics enforces how productive treating the text loosely can be. It annoys purists when Shakespeare is tampered with, but Rice does so intelligently, aided by additional lyrics and lines from Carl Grose. The revisions sustain her imaginative interpretation, making the play both accessible and stimulating and her the sadly departing hostess with the mostess.

Until 5 August 2017

www.shakespearesglobe.com

Photos by Hugo Glendinning

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“Romeo and Juliet” at Shakespeare’s Globe

Emma Rice’s second, and sadly final, season as creative director on the South Bank opened last night with a bold, experimental show directed by Daniel Kramer. Not for all tastes, and far from flawless, the production brims with intelligence as well as tricks – if originality is what you seek, it is plentiful.

The Montagues and Capulets are made up like clowns – “alike in dignity” indeed. Missiles hang in the sky and coffins abound as doom and death pervade the arena. Subtle it ain’t. Nearly every line is wrung for all its worth, with exaggerated delivery or incidental action. Even Romeo changing his trousers can mean missing a plot point. It’s exhausting, but always engaging. And such bombast makes the masque scene unmissable: karaoke ‘Y.M.C.A’? Why not? And Mrs C’s Fay Wray fancy dress is to die for.

Some of Kramer’s ideas are a puzzle. Why does Lady Capulet double as the apothecary? And why are there so many guns when knives and poison are specified? Other ideas have unfortunate consequences: the make-up and incredible costumes, a cohesive part of Soutra Gilmour’s design, make it difficult to differentiate characters. Which leads to the production’s biggest fault – a sense of performers struggling to stand out, leading to a kind of hyperinflation.

The notable exception is Golda Rosheuvel’s Mercutio, whose recasting as a woman adds tension to her friendship with Romeo. Rosheuvel embodies Queen Mab in unforgettable fashion and her death scene is shocking. In the title roles, Edward Hogg energetically follows Kramer’s strategy, using every inch of the stage. Kirsty Bushell’s Juliet is more captivating. The lovers present some of their venerated lines as hackneyed – a startling move that accentuates the often ridiculous and embarrassing nature of teenage love.

Kramer’s vision of the play is bleak right to the end –it’s about dying kids, after all. Anger fills the show, with a lot of running around. There’s a fantasy execution of parents and in-laws by Romeo, and Juliet’s lust is violent, too. Both scenes are riveting. The only quiet moment is the marriage night, during which Bushell and Hogg magically introduce a sombre tone. These lovers are more star defying than star crossed, leaving little room for any other emotion.

Kramer’s most exciting idea is conflating scenes. Joining Romeo and Juliet’s marriage with Mercutio’s fatal encounter with Tybalt adds poignancy. Playing scenes two and three of Act III simultaneously creates a riff on the theme of banishment and death that is inspired. It’s a shame these interpretations are more successful than the production’s emotional impact. Yet they are brilliant insights, shaping the way we see the play and, in my eyes, redeeming many of its faults.

Until 9 July 2017

www.shakespearesglobe.com

Photo by Robert Workman