It was clear that Michael Grandage needed a popular play in order to follow up the success of the Donmar’s production of Ivanov that played earlier in the season. He chose Twelfth Night and then decided to cast Derek Jacobi as Malvolio, one of the most memorable comic characters in any of the Shakespeare’s plays. This was surely a production that promised much.
The production opened well; a bright thunderclap splitting the stage, as Mark Bonmar’s Orsino threw himself from the wings, roaring the famous ‘If music be the food of love, play on!’ speech at the audience, battling to be heard over the storm. Christopher Oram’s set was beautiful. A mottled, earthy-coloured floor giving the impression of rural majesty was constructed out of roughly hewn boards, which protruded over the rim of the stage toward the audience. The stage was framed by rough, wooden-slatted flats, which let in slants of sun and moonlight, creating a warm homely Mediterranean aesthetic. This was an atmosphere of fruitfulness and gaiety, the perfect setting for a play where the characters do little more than play games and flirt with each other. The flats were pulled up to reveal a cold, wind-swept beach. Victoria Hamilton’s shipwrecked Viola entered looking like a drowned mermaid, green dress and red hair plastered to her skin. This space was incompletely delineated, the backdrop consisting of a thick bank of fog that made it feel transient and impermanent.
Oram crafted a simplistic set where scene changes are suggested by the meanest of props, a sofa for a sitting room, and a windbreak for a beach. Malvolio’s prison became a trap door, which the other characters were free to stomp (and in the case of Feste, cartwheel) over, literally symbolising how far he had fallen.
We next met the absurdly drunken Sir Toby Belch played by the excellent Ron Cook, who staggers onstage tuxedo askew, streamers decking his hair. Along with Guy Henry’s ridiculously tall Sir Andrew he created a brilliantly funny double act, where neither character seemed to be aware of the physical differences in stature between them.
Zubin Varla was mesmerising as Feste. Launching himself onto the stage decked in a cloak the same colours as the set; he seemed at once to be a part of the stage at the same time as seeming to occupy a space outside of it. This was a Mediterranean Feste, a creature of mirth and jollity, never without his guitar. His song about love ‘Tis not hereafter’ performed perched on a battered sofa, framed by the two dilapidated knights created a striking image of the impermanency of love. You got a real sense of the sadness these characters felt beneath their fooling, especially when Sir Andrew whispered mournfully ‘I was loved once too’. These were characters of great depth. Cook’s Sir Toby hinted at a darker viciousness with the glee he showed at the thought of hurting Malvolio. Only Maria the maid, played by Samantha Spiro could save him. Normally an overlooked character, Spiro brought a depth and warmth to the character I had not seen before.
Of course the big draw was Derek Jacobi’s Malvolio. He made a dramatic entrance as he strode onto the stage, immaculately dressed and stiff backed. Drawing out the sounds of his opening line into a self-righteous purr that showed he considered himself above many of the other characters on stage. The flawlessness of Jacobi’s attire was in stark contrast to Sir Toby’s unkempt appearance. The audience had no cause to worry as Jacobi was on excellent form.
This was a world of steamy passion, where love and sex is at the forefront of many of the characters minds. When a wet Sebastian skipped onto the stage to be towelled dry by his companion Antonio, their intimacy hinted at a relationship deeper than mere friendship. Indira Varma portrayed Olivia as a more sexually charged character than I had seen previously. Her excitement at the prospect of there possibly being two Sebastian’s drew gales of laughter from the audience.
This was a production that never lacked energy and kept the audience rapt for the entire three hours. Unfortunately the romantic scenes were not nearly as entertaining as the comic ones. It was a blessing that the pace was so swift and fluid as it meant that the audience were quickly distracted from the inadequacies of lover’s scenes by the hilarity of the comic ones. I would have liked to see the relationship between Orsino and Viola, and Viola and Olivia explored further. Strangely, Hamilton’s Viola seemed uncomfortable when dressed as Cesario, seeming to be too womanish to be able to actually disguise herself as a man.
All in all, an evening of fine entertainment, a play that delivered jokes at breakneck speed that left me with a smile that lasted the whole train journey back home.
The production opened well; a bright thunderclap splitting the stage, as Mark Bonmar’s Orsino threw himself from the wings, roaring the famous ‘If music be the food of love, play on!’ speech at the audience, battling to be heard over the storm. Christopher Oram’s set was beautiful. A mottled, earthy-coloured floor giving the impression of rural majesty was constructed out of roughly hewn boards, which protruded over the rim of the stage toward the audience. The stage was framed by rough, wooden-slatted flats, which let in slants of sun and moonlight, creating a warm homely Mediterranean aesthetic. This was an atmosphere of fruitfulness and gaiety, the perfect setting for a play where the characters do little more than play games and flirt with each other. The flats were pulled up to reveal a cold, wind-swept beach. Victoria Hamilton’s shipwrecked Viola entered looking like a drowned mermaid, green dress and red hair plastered to her skin. This space was incompletely delineated, the backdrop consisting of a thick bank of fog that made it feel transient and impermanent.
Oram crafted a simplistic set where scene changes are suggested by the meanest of props, a sofa for a sitting room, and a windbreak for a beach. Malvolio’s prison became a trap door, which the other characters were free to stomp (and in the case of Feste, cartwheel) over, literally symbolising how far he had fallen.
We next met the absurdly drunken Sir Toby Belch played by the excellent Ron Cook, who staggers onstage tuxedo askew, streamers decking his hair. Along with Guy Henry’s ridiculously tall Sir Andrew he created a brilliantly funny double act, where neither character seemed to be aware of the physical differences in stature between them.
Zubin Varla was mesmerising as Feste. Launching himself onto the stage decked in a cloak the same colours as the set; he seemed at once to be a part of the stage at the same time as seeming to occupy a space outside of it. This was a Mediterranean Feste, a creature of mirth and jollity, never without his guitar. His song about love ‘Tis not hereafter’ performed perched on a battered sofa, framed by the two dilapidated knights created a striking image of the impermanency of love. You got a real sense of the sadness these characters felt beneath their fooling, especially when Sir Andrew whispered mournfully ‘I was loved once too’. These were characters of great depth. Cook’s Sir Toby hinted at a darker viciousness with the glee he showed at the thought of hurting Malvolio. Only Maria the maid, played by Samantha Spiro could save him. Normally an overlooked character, Spiro brought a depth and warmth to the character I had not seen before.
Of course the big draw was Derek Jacobi’s Malvolio. He made a dramatic entrance as he strode onto the stage, immaculately dressed and stiff backed. Drawing out the sounds of his opening line into a self-righteous purr that showed he considered himself above many of the other characters on stage. The flawlessness of Jacobi’s attire was in stark contrast to Sir Toby’s unkempt appearance. The audience had no cause to worry as Jacobi was on excellent form.
This was a world of steamy passion, where love and sex is at the forefront of many of the characters minds. When a wet Sebastian skipped onto the stage to be towelled dry by his companion Antonio, their intimacy hinted at a relationship deeper than mere friendship. Indira Varma portrayed Olivia as a more sexually charged character than I had seen previously. Her excitement at the prospect of there possibly being two Sebastian’s drew gales of laughter from the audience.
This was a production that never lacked energy and kept the audience rapt for the entire three hours. Unfortunately the romantic scenes were not nearly as entertaining as the comic ones. It was a blessing that the pace was so swift and fluid as it meant that the audience were quickly distracted from the inadequacies of lover’s scenes by the hilarity of the comic ones. I would have liked to see the relationship between Orsino and Viola, and Viola and Olivia explored further. Strangely, Hamilton’s Viola seemed uncomfortable when dressed as Cesario, seeming to be too womanish to be able to actually disguise herself as a man.
All in all, an evening of fine entertainment, a play that delivered jokes at breakneck speed that left me with a smile that lasted the whole train journey back home.
0 comments:
Post a Comment