Friday 27 September 2013

Stratford Festival 2013 # 4: Hypocrisy and Deception in Full Measure

The current production of Shakespeare's Measure for Measure at Stratford is a splendid piece of work, even if it is by no means the last word on this multi-sided and puzzling script.

Director Martha Henry was famed for her portrayal of the central female figure, Isabella, in Robin Phillips' legendary production of 1975 and 1976.  I was curious to see how this front-rank actor and director, herself now a legend in Canadian theatre, would approach the challenge of staging the play without falling back on memories of that earlier outing.

(It intrigued me because I have seen other directors revisit work for which they previously directed or performed specially famed readings.  As an example, Michael Langham's last Love's Labour's Lost for Stratford resembled in many particulars the accounts I have read of his iconic first Stratford production of 1961.)

Martha Henry took the bull by the horns in her note for the programme, asserting that whenever she found anything looking or sounding too comfortable her instinct was rather to get as far away from it as possible.  To give it in her own words: "...one day you realize that you could not repeat what was done before even if you wanted to -- it's not physically possible."

The floor of the Tom Patterson stage carried an effective pattern of indoor wood merging with outdoor stonework.  The gates at the back, in the form of a steel cage, appeared at first to lock the world away but later clearly could be felt as a cage locking the characters in.

In this so-called "comedy", there are undeniably funny moments (as in all Shakespeare plays) but the general tone is dark indeed.  I suspect one reason why the play is not as popular as some is that the playwright has all too accurately held up the mirror in which we see ourselves, our hypocrisy, our moral flexibility, reflected with brutal clarity.  Martha Henry's production supported this mirror better than any other I have seen by the sheer ordinariness of the people in the play, in dress and manner.  The decision to set the play in 1949 effectively brought it into the lifetimes of at least the older members of the audience, and the visual effect of the piece was plainly modern without being aggressively so. 

The modernity of expression and movement matched the look, and was most in evidence in the two central characters of the play's main plotline -- Isabella and Angelo.  As Angelo, Tom Rooney appeared so ordinary that the Duke's decision to settle all power in Vienna in his hands appeared almost as wilful and pointless as Lear's division of his kingdom.  It was by slow degrees that the curtain was edged aside to show the depravity within, and Rooney's special achievement was to clearly show us how the good and evil in him contended for mastery, with the evil winning out.  Much more true to life than simply having him as a man of pure evil.

In the key female role of Isabella, Carmen Grant convincingly portrayed a young woman made naïve by an excess of overt goodness.  Here, the evolution was the gradual awakening of her conscious mind to the depths of immorality surrounding her.  In a sense, though, Grant was perhaps miscast for a person enmeshed in such troubles.  I can't recall seeing her perform before, but she appears to have one of those faces whose basic expression when at rest is a cheery smile.  It was a little disconcerting to see her approach Angelo with this happy face when her mission was to answer his most unwelcome amorous proposals.

I felt that Geraint Wyn Davies as Duke Vincentio was the (relatively) weak link among the three principal roles.  During the scenes where the Duke appears disguised as a friar, his playing could have incorporated less of the comic mannerisms he's used in more clownish roles.  For instance, his voice kept turning into the voice of the drunken Stephano in The Tempest from a few years back -- a disconcerting reminder of a very different role in a very different play!  His appearances as the Duke at the opening and final scenes of the play were much the most effective part of the performance.

Among the various supporting roles, I have to single out two.  Stephen Russell, a long-time Stratford veteran, for making a very good thing indeed out of the role of the Provost.  In clarity of delivery he outshone a number of the other actors, and lent much strength to the show on each of his appearances.  Brian Tree provided a hilarious performance as the officious policeman Elbow, saluting repeatedly with exact mechanical precision and marching in and out (and speaking!) in a delicious caricature of a pompous British colonial soldier.

The general arc of the play moved briskly and convincingly without either slowing down or overspeeding, and variation in pace was deployed sensitively and effectively among all the cast.

If this wasn't precisely a Measure for Measure for the ages, it was definitely a good strong take on a play loaded with more than its fair share of traps for the unwary -- and for that, I give a full share of the credit to Martha Henry's overarching vision.  Definitely a Measure for our time.

Friday 13 September 2013

Stratford Festival 2013 # 3: Rarely Comest Thou, Spirit of Delight!

Two posts on two days in a row because I was shamefully late in posting my remarks about Taking Shakespeare but am now right on time with my thoughts about Blithe Spirit, Noel Coward's evergreen comedy classic, which I saw this afternoon.

Of the Noel Coward plays which I have seen, I would rate this as the best.  To be sure, the script is overly wordy in places, but that matters less than the excellence of the surprises which Coward unveils one by one.  I had the privilege of attending this show (a very old and dear friend of mine) with three people who had never seen it and so had no idea what to expect.  All three agreed that the surprising and totally unpredictable twists and turns held their interest from start to finish.  All the comic business didn't do any harm either! 

That was a good reminder for me that, like any good murder mystery, this really is (at one level) a classic whodunit reflected in a comic mirror.  The social satire in this play deals with the universal arena of marital relations, and that helps give it a timeless appeal.  Since the playwright quickly disposes of the idea that Madame Arcati (the medium) is nothing but a fraud, we readily accept the reality driving the piece, which is that a ghostly spirit world does exist, and can spill over into our everyday lives in ways we might not appreciate.

It was a real joy to see a comic play staged in a way that invited us fully into the reality of the story, instead of putting us off by having actors who signal the audience when to laugh with various gestures and grimaces.  Director Brian Bedford did a splendid job of harnessing his cast to prevent this kind of lapse, so much so that it's almost frightening to remember how much telegraphing-for-laughs he indulged in a few years ago when he played Lady Bracknell!

The set, created by designer Simon Higlett, evoked the comfortable upper middle class life of the Condomines beautifully, and gave ample room to move when the action got increasingly frantic as the play moved along.  The set also made a splendid contribution to the final moments in several unusual and very eye-catching ways.

Once again, Stratford indulged in Cadillac casting, a sure sign of the strength that now exists at all levels of this company.  Ben Carlson played Charles Condomine more naturally, and freer from affectation, than any other actor I have ever seen in the role.  I particularly appreciated his crisp diction, as every line travelled clearly to the back of the theatre where I was seated.

Sara Topham was splendid as Ruth, Charles's wife.  Her finest moment was the icy self-control which she exhibited during the famous breakfast scene, one of the politest arguments ever staged in any theatre anywhere.  It's a tough role.  You can't imagine any person keeping much self-control when confronted with the situation Ruth experiences, but if the actor in the role goes too far too fast then she has nowhere left to go as the situation continues to escalate.  Topham handled this challenge well, and although I felt she had gone a bit too far in Act 1 she still had ample reserves for Acts 2 and 3!

Michelle Giroux underplayed the ghostly Elvira beautifully.  She struck all the right notes without ever over-playing her hand, and that made her collapse at the end of Act 2 all the more gripping and startling. 

Madame Arcati must be one of the most daunting roles in the English-speaking comic theatre.  It's almost like the female comic counterpart of Hamlet, since it seems as if every great comic leading lady you can think of has "had a go" at one time or another!  So, this brings us to Seana McKenna, definitely a leading lady of the Stratford company.  Her Madame Arcati was distinctive -- rough-edged, almost masculine in tone, very emphatic in her movements.  Certainly I've never seen the part played that way before, and she made out a good case for it.  It didn't entirely win me over, but you know that this is just one person's opinion.  And she certainly played the hypnotism scene very quietly and intensely -- likewise, the final scene of the play.

James Blendick (a long-serving Stratford veteran) and Wendy Thatcher (a Stratford newcomer) did all they could with the ungrateful roles of Dr. and Mrs. Bradman.  Thatcher, in her second scene, created almost the only stereotype of the entire show -- a giddy "dumb blonde" if ever there was one.  But since the role is written that way, it's hard to avoid and she did keep the character likable.

Susie Burnett was very effective as the maid, Edith.  She handled the comic business of running and too obviously not-running with aplomb.  I was most impressed at the distinct change that came over her, the note of malicious mischief that came into her voice, in the hypnosis scene.  I've never heard or seen anything so strong made of it, but the hint is unmistakably there in the script and she certainly made it work, in spades!

In sum: this was probably the strongest stage production of Blithe Spirit that I have ever seen, and I was gratified to notice that it still makes me laugh just as hard as the very first time I stepped into the Condomines' home way back in the 1970s.  A lot of other comedies have worn thin on me during that time, but this one is a perennial delight and Stratford's production deserves all the generous accolades it has won.

Thursday 12 September 2013

Stratford Festival 2013 # 2: A Two-er de Force

To me, there is no test of an actor's skill quite so revealing as a role in what theatre folk refer to as a "two-hander" -- a play for two performers.  That's because, with rare exceptions, each actor is on for the full length of the piece without respite.  And, unlike a one-hander, the actor must continually function in relation to another person who is there on stage with her or him.

Stratford Festival this year has mounted a very intriguing two-hander entitled Taking Shakespeare, written by one of the senior and most respected Canadian playwrights, John Murrell.  With what can only be termed luxury casting, this performance is helmed by one of the finest directors ever to work at Stratford (in my humble opinion), Diana Leblanc, and stars Martha Henry and Luke Humphrey.  Martha Henry has been a company leading lady since the 1960s, as well as a fine director in her own right.  Especially interesting is the fact that Murrell wrote the role of "Prof", a middle-aged and disenchanted university English professor, especially for her.  Luke Humphrey, a three-season veteran of the company, proves himself thoroughly up to the major challenge of playing her unexpected student, "Murph".

And a challenge it is.  Murrell's script is layered with fascinating complexities, and while some of the back story is revealed by the dialogue a great deal is not.  There's a great deal of laughter evoked by the verbal fencing of the two characters, and there are a few moments when the author seems to be rubbing a moral in your face rather pointedly.  Not until afterwards do you realize that these were almost like distractions, to make you lower your guard, so some deeper and not so obvious points could be scored. 

Henry gives a performance shot with repeated lightning flashes of brilliant wit, timing, and power.  As the student, Murph, who is sent to her for special coaching in Shakespeare's Othello, Humphrey achieves a realistic portrayal of a young man who, like many of his age, is bored and blasé with everything but video games.  The tone of the play, and the relationship between the characters, is set right in the first minutes when Murph, quite typically, drops an F-bomb and Prof immediately repeats it right back at him, in the form of a question.  This, as we soon learn, is as typical of her as the F-bomb is of Murph.

As the play develops, the relationship between these two disparate personalities continuously shifts and grows and evolves, and the evolution is not by any means always along predictable lines.  (For an actor, this must be like a theatrical equivalent of singing the choral music of J. S. Bach, where the notes often seem to fly at you in a sequence that is neither expected nor especially easy to sing!)  Take just one example, the moment when Murph springs the surprise that his mother (who asked Prof in a phone call to coach Murph) is the Dean of Arts and Sciences at the university.  It's plain that the reaction he gets from Prof is not the one he expected (but what would that have been?).  The impact of this reversing of the surprise is that further doors are opened to further growth and confidence between them.

Expecting a love relationship here?  Don't.  Murrell is far too brilliant a writer to fall into the trap of that oldest of formulas.  Really, the only formula here is the one of teacher and pupil learning from each other, which is only a reflection of the reality of true teaching.  Even this one Murrell manages to handle without lapsing into wholesale imitation of his predecessors.  The similarity in treatment with Shaw's Pygmalion is not all that noticeable on the surface, but it's an undoubted similarity all the same. 

The trio of Leblanc, Henry, and Humphrey has created a wonderful performance of this piece.  The fourth key person in the team is designer Michael Gianfrancesco.  Within the confined space of the arena stage at the Festival's Studio Theatre, Gianfrancesco has created a marvellous mess of a room that totally reflects the mess of Prof's life.  It's old, tacky, tattered, overstuffed, creaky, and comfortable all at once.  And, in spite of the "overstuffed" part of the description, this apparently crowded-to-death room actually has plenty of space for the characters to act and interact in all sorts of ways, at all sorts of interesting angles.

A final note: there must have been some temptation to move this show into a larger space like the Tom Patterson Theatre.  It could probably still have done very well -- Martha Henry's name alone is a guarantor of a respectable take at the box office, as is shown by the fact that the run in the Studio is virtually sold out and has even been extended.  But the Studio, small and slightly cramped, is the place for this performance without question.  No other Stratford theatre could have drawn us so thoroughly into the claustrophobic room and life of Prof, nor made us feel so strongly the liberation that comes over both her and Murph by degrees as the play unfolds.