LONDON CITY NIGHTS

Saturday, April 2, 2016

'Henry V' at Middle Temple Hall, 1st April 2016

Saturday, April 2, 2016 - by londoncitynights · - 0 Comments

It's real easy to heroically "Cry God for Harry, England, and Saint George!' when danger is at arm's length. It's considerably less easy to do so when your lungs are filling with muddy water, when those "limbs were made in England" have been blown off by a shell or when your mind shatters into a thousand pieces.

At the heart of Antic Disposition's staging of Henry V is the disconnect between the nobility of patriotism and its bloody consequences. So, we find Henry V being staged in a field hospital in World War I, performed by injured French and British soldiers. 

It's a smart bit of framing: the propaganda campaign that urged young men to fight for God, King and country has roots in Shakespeare's oft-quoted vision of Britain in its finest military hour, from the deification of English bulldog masculinity to the shaming of those that don't want to fight ("And gentlemen in England now abed / Shall think themselves accursed they were not here / And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks").

On top of that, there's disquieting links between the two wars. The battle at Agincourt is notorious for the part terrain and weather played in the English victory. Essentially, the heavily armoured French nobility became bogged down in thick mud, quickly becoming so tired that they were exhausted when they finally met the English. When the second wave of the French attack arrived they found themselves stood atop the suffocating corpses of those that went before. The knights were crushed or drowned in the mud - those few that had the energy to lift their weapons picked off by lightly clothed English longbowmen.

It's a hellish vision of blood and mud - carnage echoed 500 years later in the charnel houses of Ypres, the Somme and Verdun. Understanding this, Antic Disposition does a fairly straight run through of the play while simultaneously critiquing it. The production contrasts Shakespeare's portrait of the stalwart English soldier with a shell-shocked, screaming and drooling Tommy being restrained by two nurses, we first meet the man who'll play our King blinded by mustard gas and the triumphalist conclusion of Henry V is immediately and soberingly undercut by orders to that these players must return to the front lines.

Piece by piece, this interpretation dismantles the puffed up militarism that gently airbrushes the miseries of war. The ongoing centenary of the Great War is crammed full of language like "noble sacrifice" and those that "laid down their lives". It all sounds dreamily peaceful; a long way away from the first hand accounts by the soldiers in the trenches, perhaps best summarised by Wilfred Owen's iconic: "My friend, you would not tell with such high zest / To children ardent for some desperate glory / The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est / Pro patria mori." 

The connecting of the historical dots is aided by the backdrop of Middle Temple Hall. Dead kings imperiously gaze down from oil portraits and the high walls are ominously guarded by suits of Roundhead Armor. The innate historicity of the place seeps through into the production, the panelled walls, stained glass windows and ornate ceiling reflecting the sense of stolid permanence that suffuses the play. 

On top of that it's a beautifully concisely designed focused production. The set is minimal; confined to a couple of wooden boxes and national flags, and the costuming is period-accurate military and nursing uniforms. It's easy to half-ass this stuff and still look good, so I was impressed with the subtle detailing that distinguishes each character's costume. Also of note are the effective ways that the production within the production smartly uses whatever's to hand for their props, most effectively using cut up tin cans for the King's crowns.

Performance-wise it's similarly excellent - with particular credit to Freddie Stewart's onion-layered Henry. He's constantly changing gears depending on his surroundings, variously commanding, terrified, horrified, playful, romantic or confident. Maintaining a through-line of character in these many varied scenes is a tough job, especially when you factor in the further layer that Stewart is playing an anonymous Tommy playing King Henry.

A performance of this quality firmly anchors the play, though he's ably supported by memorable turns from James Lavender, Stephen Lloyd and James Murfitt, who provide texture and humour in showing us the reactions of the 'commoners'. Also excellent is Floriane Anderson's Princess Katherine, who succeeds in the romantic high-wire act of falling for a man who's already demanding her hand in marriage as one of his terms of invasion.

It's a fine production, with a clear-minded, well communicated perspective on history, politics and the central text. Antic Disposition are further elevated by the locations they're performing in. Middle Temple Hall is one of the most atmospheric performance spaces for Shakespeare in London, though I admit I'm slightly jealous of those that'll get to see this in Winchester and Salisbury Cathedral. Best of all, it's beautifully timed to provide a complex analysis of English self-mythologising; exploring the cultural weight of Shakespeare and the impact of the Great War sensitively yet critically.

★★★★

Henry V is at Middle Temple Hall until 6th April, then touring the country. Details and tickets here.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

'Vanity Fair' at Middle Temple Hall, 8th January 2015

Sunday, January 10, 2016 - by londoncitynights · - 0 Comments

Vanity Fair packs a lot in. Over three hours, we travel through William Makepeace Thackeray's depiction of life in the first half of the 19th century, experience  jewel-studded high life and dowdily miserable poverty, travel from the streets of Bloomsbury to the casinos of Brussels and the tropical heat of imperial India. There's even a miniature re-enactment of the battle of Waterloo!

This is a tall order for a cast of seven actors and minimal props/scenery. Fortunately they're buoyed up by the absolutely magnificent backdrop of Middle Temple Hall.

Constructed during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, the place practically sweats history. The floor is studded with decades of furniture scrapings, dead monarchs peer down from oil portraits, the walls are festooned with magnificently calligraphed crests and suits of Roundhead armour peer down at all in attendance. As if to add a historical cherry on top, the hall is renowned for hosting the premiere of Twelfth Night, with none other than William Shakespeare himself acting in it.

I was won over before even a single line of Vanity Fair had been uttered. For those unfamiliar with it, the book follows the intertwining fortunes of two friends: Becky Sharp (Lucy Harrison Shaw) and Amelia Sedley (Emily Plumtree). We first meet them graduating Miss Pinkerton's Academy for Young Ladies, each with ambitions, hopes and dreams. The narrative then snakes around a series of suitors, various betrayals, comedic interludes and moments where history sticks its big nose into affairs.

For the most part these developments are dealt with with high irony. Every coincidence and unlikely development is played with a raised eyebrow locked in pace. The result is a large cast of characters who primarily consist of caricatures. Then again, this might be by necessity; there's an awful lot of prattish upper class dandies in this play, and caricature is the quickest way to work out who's who.

Despite the lighthearted tone, there's flashes of sincerity throughout. Vanity Fair isn't quite mocking its characters, instead approaching them with humanity and sympathy (despite their occasionally diabolical behaviour).

The cast convey all thatwith aplomb. Particular praise is directed towards Shaw's Becky, she's played like a Georgian-era femme fatale. There's something predatory in the way she stalks the stage, chewing upthe chumpish men that dot the parties and parlours of Vanity Fair. 

The rest of the cast are no slouches either. Patrick Warner impresses in his many roles, sharply defining the (distractingly named) George Osborne against the other male suitors. Nicholas also brings a pleasantly raffish charm to the buffoonish Rawdon Crawley, as well as bringing a raft of minor supporting characters to life.

Perhaps the highest praise I can give the production is that I was able to follow this byzantine web of relationships with clarity from start to finish. I've never read Vanity Fair, but after a momentarily nervousness at the rush of introductions in the opening scenes, quickly understood who everyone was and what they wanted. As things twisted and turned I had a genuine emotional connection - I cared about these characters.

Sadly it's not all sunshine and roses. The show is performed in the round, and having actors backs to you, coupled with sonorous acoustics render some sections of dialogue unintelligible. This comes to a head in the (mercifully) rare musical numbers, which aside from feeling largely extraneous to proceedings, have the vocals bleeding into the backing track, resulting in an indigestible blob of sound.

The sheer size of the space also proves tricky to get to grips with. The story is largely composed of conversations in ornate rooms, and despite obvious efforts to fill the whole space, there are moments where actors look adrift in a vast emptiness. Director Hal Chambers is obviously aware of this, and every opportunity is made to swoop around the stage, yet the show is clearly at somewhat of a stretch.

Having said that, the size of the space is obviously more of a help than a hindrance. There are moments when everything descends into darkness, a lone actor illuminated by a small light at the centre of the room. You feel as if you're immersed in pure atmosphere, unable to resist looking up at the London night lights streaming through the ancient windows, casting those old Roundhead armours in imperious silhouette.

There's a decent argument that I might have had not so good a time were this production staged in a less psychogeographically sexy location. But, well, it was. That simple fact overrules some of my misgivings about staging, sound and so on. Well worth the visit.

★★★

Vanity Fair is at Middle Temple Hall until January 10th.