Love’s Labour’s Lost November 2, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Reviews , 2 commentsIn 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.
What A Piece of Work is (that) Man September 18, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Reviews , 1 comment so farThere is something disconcerting about seeing a very familiar TV actor on the stage. TV is a very intimate medium, in your home, watched alone or with family and a TV series can be a part of life for months or even years. The intimacy of the stage is different. The actor is right there before you, perhaps only a few feet away, but you are one of hundreds, even as it feels he is talking to you alone. You’re more aware of their physical presence, less able to see everything thats happening.
After months of waiting, and all the hype, last night I finally saw David Tennant in the RSCs production of Hamlet in Stratford upon Avon, and he is wonderful.
The royal party arrive on stage and Dr Who is standing in the corner in a well-cut suit. That’s weird. Then a miserable young man comes to life, mourning his father and appalled at his mother’s hasty remarriage. The royal party leave and Tennant sobs and rages his way through the first soliliquy (frailty thy name is woman) fetal on the floor. It’s heart breaking and the next three and a half hours pass in another world.
It’s not all painful. This company finds far more humour in the play than I’ve seen before. Polonious as the doddery old fool teased affectionately by his children, more arrogantly by Hamlet, Hamlets suspicion of Rozencrantz and Guildenstern. Tennant’s Hamlet is an irreverent student feigning madness but also reflective and selfdoubting, making good use of his trademark manic energy. It could so easily go over the top, but it never does.
Patrick Stewart is, of course, excellent. At times, he seems to anchor the stage while Tennant flies around it. Even knowing the plot, he arouses admiration, at least up to the point where he confesses the murder of Hamlet’s father. Although ruthless, he is calm and noble. His early concern for his nephew seems genuine enough.
But it is Tennant’s play. He speaks 37% of the lines (useful fact from the programme), and most of the audience are there to see him. Watching him, he constantly brings ever more meaning out of the words, with his voice, face, hands, entire body. He is Hamlet, totally and completely.
As I leave, its less with the euphoria of seeing a favourite actor than feeling the intense tragedy of the young prince.
Hamlet plays at the Courtyard Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon until November, then transfers to London. Both seasons are completely sold out, though there are returns available on the day. If you are booking for the Courtyard, avoid the first few seats at the feet of horseshoe in the stalls. I was in D50, right beside the base of the stage, and saw a lot of backs. The actors do turn to all sides, but when they’re a little way down the thrust of the stage, those seats are behind them.
Dr Who Christmas Special December 26, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Reviews , add a commentWARNING - Dr Who Christmas Special Plot Spoiler.
Take a dash of the Poseidon Adventure, throw in a pop princess, mix it all up with the strikingly handsome and surprisingly single tenth Doctor and you have the Doctor Who Christmas special, and possibly a camp rival for the wizard of Oz.
When we left the Doctor at the end of the last series, he had been abandoned by his companions and the Tardis had just struck the intersellar cruise ship Titanic, in orbit around Earth on Christmas Eve. He quickly repairs the damage, and decides to join the party. Waitress Astrid Peth, played by Kylie, takes his eye immediately. He moves in, telling her “you dreamed of another sky, new sun, new air, new life, a whole universe teeming with life”. Taking her on an excursion forbidden to staff, to exotic and alien London below, she is hooked. To which I, and half the female population of the UK (plus a fair few of the rest), can only say, I should be so lucky! David Tennant seems to be reprising his earlier role as Casanova, travelling in time and toned down for family viewing.
Of course, disaster strikes and the ship starts to plunge towards the Earth, threatening not only those on board but all life on the planet. The Tardis is lost in the accident, which turns out to be less of an accident than it seems. And now it is up to the Doctor, his new companion and an assortment of other characters to save the day.
One of the reasons why Doctor Who makes good, often inspirational, viewing, is the sympathy he shows for ordinary, humble people, bringing out the best in them. The overweight factory workers who have won their tickets and are scorned by other passengers rise to the occasion, while the nasty, mobile-phone toting trader lives up to very little. In an unusual twist for a disaster movie, it is not the good who survive. Who said the universe was fair?
Clive Swift, famous as the henpecked husband of Hyacinth Bucket, is the ships historian, Mr Copper, with a BA from Mrs Golightly’s Happy Travelling Univerity and Drycleaners and a knowledge of the Earth which extends to the Space Shuffle, and the UK going to war every year with Turkey and eating its inhabitants. He gives the Doctor the chance to show just how British this show really is when he talks about Great Britain, Great France and Great Germany. “No, its just France and Germany. Only Britain is Great.”
The only recognisable alien is Bannakaffalatta (try ordering that at Starbucks) a cyborg rambutan who is another of the good guys sacrificing himself to save the day. Sticking with the Doctor when the going gets tough may not be the best move, particularly if he looks at you in that ‘trust me’ way and promises to get you out safely.
Of course, it wouldn’t be Doctor Who without an ‘I’m going to save her’ moment and some frantic electronics. This time a world tour and new album get in the way and the Doctor can’t bring back his new friend, though they do get one more snog before she completely disappears. And no, she is not the spirit of the Tardis, despite Astrid being an anagram.
This is light, family entertainment for Christmas evening. Its not Doctor Who at its darkly dramatic best, and Astrid is no new Rose, nor even as well developed as Catherine Tate’s Donna on last year’s special. They do have fun with Christmas, and it is tense and exciting, with wonderful sets and some nice touches. The theme tune has been rearranged and is more upbeat. And the Doctor thinks New Zealand is beautiful. The near miss of Buck House, and the Queen waving as they go past is a little toe-curling though.
Although it sits outside the normal run of Doctor Who, there are nods to continuity. Everyone has left London, fearful of what will happen this Christmas, although the Queen has stayed behind, God Bless Her. Given that we had the Sycorax two years ago, and the Racnos last year, she may not be the sensible one. But if the Doctor’s life is a series of anecdotes underpinned by the bigger story arcs of the main series - Rose’s story, Martha’s, even Saxon - this seems to be on its own.
Old school fans, fundamentalist Christians and the odd Titanic survivor may not like it, but its good clean fun and far more right for Christmas than incestuous adultery over on Eastenders.
If you live in the UK, you can watch it online here before New Years Eve.
