A Review of the RSC Production of Pericles at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, Wednesday, December 6th 2006

” Bill, you don’t have a play we could use do you?”

And Bill Shakespeare was a nice, helpful sort of bloke, and naturally said yes to the above question and started searching through his drawers, which were big - you’ve seen the pictures - and full of all sorts of stuff, including a dusty old script of Pericles, written by George Wilkins, based on his own novel The Painfull Adventures of Pericles, Prince of Tyre, which was itself based on Lawrence Twine’s Patterne of Painfull Adventures, inspired not only by an old French tale but John Gower’s Confessio Amantis of 1385, which is a damned convoluted way of writing a play, unless someone is offering you money, quick money, and you don’t have anything else ready. Pericles is a re-write job, and it shows.

The first two acts are obviously by another hand - one assumes Wilkins’ - as is most of act four, plus great chunks of the rest. The result is that this isn’t a very good play - how could it be - although certain parts are dark and challenging and full of coded language, with dialogue that flows like water, which is the mark of Shakespeare at his best, with the non-Shakespearean bits dire in the extreme. And that’s the reason it’s seldom produced these days (and there’s more than one of Shakespeare’s plays that should be burned ceremoniously), and wouldn’t have been now but for the Complete Plays Festival.

Which is good because it’s always interesting to see how a company like the RSC can create something out of such a mess; and they do try to make something out of this one with a vengeance.

But this production is little more than a thespian fest, with director Dominic Cooke throwing everything into the mix, which, at its worst, includes a lot of stuff from what can only be called the ‘I am a tree’ school of acting (especially in the pitifully weak storm scenes), with, at its best, some of the finest acting I’ve seen in a long time, most especially the work of Lucian Msamati as Pericles, whose second half scene with his long lost daughter Marina, played with dignity by Ony Uhiara, is a small piece of very moving theatre indeed, making clear that it’s some of Shakespeare’s finest writing. It’s worth seeing just for that one scene alone.

The setting of the play - at least in the first half - is a disease ridden and politically corrupt African state, which I guess was meant to give it some modern relevance (the new Bond film Casino Royale does it better) but instead adds even more confusion to a very confused state of affairs that actors Nigel Cooke as Lysimachus, and Richard Moore (his deep voice is a joy) as Simonides and Pander, do their best (and their best is exceptional) to unravel and clarify, which, in a good play - such as a The Winter’s Tale - only adds to the brilliance, but in a bad play, for all its fun and occasional sparks of magic, makes you wish they had something better to get their teeth into.

Pericles runs in rep with The Winter’s Tale until Saturday the 6th of January 2007.

To book tickets go to the RSC site.

In good voice…

Coming out of HMV in Stratford a few minutes ago I was nearly flattened by Simon Callow exiting Starbucks at a rate of knots, long black overcoat flowing behind him like Dracula’s cape, script under his arm, with his deep baritone voice stopping the traffic as he tried out one of his songs from Merry Wives: The Musical, which is currently in preview at the RST Main House.

Your trusted critic (me) will be reviewing the show on the 30th December.

And if the little sample I just heard is anything to go by I can’t wait.

A Review of the Stratford-upon-Avon Operatic Society’s Production of Leonard Bernstein’s West Side Story, performed at the RSC’s Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, Wednesday 29th November 2006.

Part of the RSC’s Complete Works Festival

There are times in the theatre - not often - when you are grabbed by the throat and shaken. Such was the case with the Stratford Operatic Society’s production of one of the most exciting and influential musicals ever written, and a show, that, on a warm September evening in 1957, grabbed Broadway by the throat and shook it. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

Which is a good reason why most operatic societies and theatre companies should leave well alone, because if you can’t match, or don’t even attempt to match that original brilliance why bother; and most can’t and don’t, and simply rely on Leonard Bernstein’s well known melodies, and Stephen Sondheim’s lyrics, to get them from one end of Arthur Laurent’s book to another, which is a lazy way to make a buck.

But the Stratford Operatic Society are not lazy, far from it, and what they have done with this current production is re-invent it, and present it as if for the first time by going back to the original vigour and danger of the piece: to the switch-blade sharpness of the score, and the sidewalk swagger of the book and lyrics - threatening and abusive lyrics that came out of an anger that had never, until then, been a part of the musical stage, with the Jets and Sharks little more than kids whose old men never came back home in 1945, which left resentment, anger, and a desire for revenge. West Side Story is a slice of real life that sheds real blood.

And the RSC’s new Courtyard Theatre has, with the recent season of Henry VI, Parts I, II, III, seen a lot of blood shed recently, and proven itself to be an ideal setting for large, fast-moving, almost cinematic productions. And this production of West Side Story loves it there, as if the place had been built for the show, with Philip Beeson’s and Chris Biddle’s superb set design soaring away into the skyscraper heaven of the Courtyard’s heights.

The new theatre is also a great place for dancing, and, if you’ve never seen the show (and you must), there’s an awful lot of dancing in West Side Story, an awful lot; and because virtually all of it is ensemble it has to be done with split second precision to bring out the huge dollops of emotion good dancing can create, and there’s emotion erupting everywhere in explosions of arabesques, arrièrs, adagios and aplombs.

After the show I asked the breathless choreographer, Julie Bedlow-Howard, if it was a requirement of the licence to stick to Jerome Robbins’original choreography. Which is the case these days with most successful musicals, a sort of musical Kentucky Fried Chicken - the same wherever you go. Julie’s answer was, thankfully, a resounding no, which pleased me because the choreography in this production is outstanding in its sheer power and brilliance, in its intricacy of design and the way she uses every inch of the Courtyard’s thrust stage, and exit catwalks, to advantage. The sheer precision (the only word) of the dancing - which must have taken hours of sweat and drill - would, if they could dance, make the Brigade of Guards look clumsy and out of step.

The overall direction of Philip Beeson (he’s recently directed Return to the Forbidden Planet, and Crazy For You) is firm and imaginative, although some of the scene changes are a bit slow due to some rather large and clumsy props. But overall he keeps the pace, when required, revving along at between 90 -100 miles an hour, and pulls some damned good performances out of a talented cast.

Not least Peter Cubitt’s wonderfully worn-out old cop Schrank, who, as you might imagine with a name like that, tends to favour The Jets, but really just wants a quiet life. And the second Peter’s deep growl of a voice precedes his trilby-hatted, wide-lapelled presence onto the stage, his desire for a quiet life jumps from a tenth floor window by way of homage to a stunning performance; I just wish Bernstein had given Peter’s character a song to sing.

And that’s one of the few flaws of the original West Side Story; it should have been conceived as a wholly sung piece - and it has more than enough drama and melodies to sustain the idea - with the small bits of inter-connecting dialogue presented as recitative. I believe it would have added even more tension to that which is already oozing from every word and note.

Peter Cubitt’s strong performance is backed up superbly by Lizzie Pearce’s beautifully crafted Anita (and she can sing and dance like a madwoman), Craig Garner’s rather nervous Riff, Alan England’s tough, street-wise Bernardo, and Kirsty Minchella-Storer’s vulnerable Maria; and not least Adriano Tesoniero, who comes across with a gem of a performance that marks him out as a real Shark, daddy-o!

The ever professional Midland Concert Orchestra (made-up of session and West End players), under the assured baton of musical director James Suckling, play the familiar score to perfection, coming in with some section work that reminded me of the hard-edged drive of Stan Kenton’s inspired interpretation of 1961. Great stuff.

But the star of the show is undoubtedly Owain Llyr Williams, who plays Tony with a veracity and energy that is quite staggering in a 20 year old. His stage presence is huge, and he already knows how to hold the attention of a thousand people by singing ‘Maria’ as a genuine soliloquy to love. It was, and he is, magic.

West Side Story runs until Saturday 2nd December. To book tickets go to the RSC site.