Love’s Labour’s Lost November 2, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Reviews , trackbackIn the Q&A session after the show, the cast talked about this being a difficult play to read, and so not done very often. It doesn’t have much plot, and most of the humour is in obtuse Elizabethan puns, so it’s a fair choice as the third, short-run play of the season. It’s a sellout, but that can only be because of David Tennant’s unfailing ability to attract bums to seats. Having said that, this bum had a very good evening, and the rest of the audience seemed to be doing so too.
What plot there is, is very simple. The King of Navarre and his courtiers (above) swear to study for three years, forsaking women, good eating and even a decent nights sleep for the sake of learning. This has barely started when the Princess of France and her ladies show up, with inevitable consequences.
The play is truly an ensemble piece, and the cast do a brilliant job of turning this difficult play into something very funny and accessible. Although Berowne (Tennant) has twice as many lines as anyone else, they are concentrated into more long speeches. If there is a star, it could as easily be the hilarious Spanish Duke Don Adriano de Armado (Joe Dixon) all pompous strutting and atrocious accent proving that Fawlty Tower’s Manuel and ‘Allo ‘Allo have ancient precedents. Tennant is wonderful, but the entire cast made this performance worthwhile.
In one of the most obscure parts of the play, with puns on l’envoy and geese which you’d have to have read a critical edition to get, let alone find funny, Armado, his page Moth (Zoe Thorpe) and the villager Costard (Ricky Champ) break into a rap, and have the theatre in stitches. It sounds odd, but works brilliantly. As Oliver Ford Davies (Holofernes) pointed out in the Q&A afterwards, rapping helps bring out the rhythm of the verse, as well as forcing clear diction.
And yes, this has to be one of Shakespeare’s filthiest plays, knee-deep in innuendo and often smellier stuff. I doubt there was a straight bloke in the audience sitting calmly as the milkmaid Jacquenetta (Riann Steele) worked her churn. More scatological references are funny (Berowne pronouncing faces as faeces when, dressed as a Russian, he asks the ladies to reveal theirs) or really rather odd, as when Don Armado says that the King likes to run his finger through his excrement and mustache. My text suggests the word refers to facial hair as well, but I wasn’t quite sure how to take that.
One of the strong themes of the play is the cruelty, and essential emptiness of wit, and Rosaline’s final request to Berowne to use his wit to good purpose if he wants to win her is strikingly apt this week. ‘A jest’s prosperity lies in the ear of him that hears it, never in the tongue of him that makes it’ would be a useful lesson for Johnathan Ross.
You wonder really what, if anything, the women see in the men. They have failed to keep their vows, try to win the women over with clever games while also deriding them. They cannot even respect their grief when the death of the King of France is announced. The only time they seem to really respect the women is in Berowne’s speech to the other lords justifying the breaking of their vows. Tennant delivers a beautifully nuanced performance, balanced between self-serving cant and a genuine, more mature, reflection on the nature of love.
Although the set is minimal, it seems sumptuous. A huge tree dominates, and is used by Tennant to hide and watch the others. Long strings of coloured polygons give the idea of a forest park. The costumes are rich, with the men in traditional doublet and hose. In an early interview for the season, director Gregory Doran said he wouldn’t put Tennant in hose, but I’m sure a fair few female fans were grateful he did.
In all, well worth the trip to Stratford. I probably wouldn’t have bothered if it hadn’t been for Tennant, and his performance alone would have made it worthwhile, but I’m now determined to make sure I see the plays the RSC don’t bring to London.
Despite the seat being much cheaper, I had a better view than for Hamlet. In the gallery, in B55, I could see everything, though I’d prefer to be down in the stalls (but in the middle, not right at the edge). Love’s Labour’s Lost runs at the Courtyard in Stratford upon Avon until the end of November, and is a complete sellout - returns and day tickets only.
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Thank you for the review, but I hate to tell you that you’ve been scraped by someone over on Live Journal.
=edited to remove link= — in case you wish to report them for grabbing your stuff.
And I wish I’d had a chance to make it over for LLL — I count myself lucky I’m seeing Hamlet in London in January, but I really would have enjoyed seeing this one.
Thanks for that - I’ve reported them. Nasty little thief!