Tuesday 17 October 2017

Stratford Festival 2017 # 7: Sombre Yet Bright Romeo and Juliet

My last Stratford outing of the season -- very nearly over now -- was to see Scott Wentworth's production of Romeo and Juliet.  Some of my regular readers may be surprised to read that I have never seen the play on stage before.  Two film versions, yes, and numerous performances of Prokofiev's stunningly dramatic ballet version -- but not the original play, although I am familiar with the text.

I found this production a bit of a mixed bag.  The sombre darkness of the setting, costumes, and the play as a whole was yet relieved by some powerful performances that lit up the stage.  It's just a pity that the play as a whole didn't reach the level of its brightest lights.

For this production, the artistic team returned to the original classic configuration of Tanya Moiseiwitsch's Festival Theatre stage, all in plain dark wood as in days of yore.  Against this background, Christina Poddubiuk's black costumes (with gold trimming for the men and white highlights for the women) conspired to deepen the prevailing gloom, already apt to appear in a performance of such a tragedy.

The exceptions were notable: a pale blue dress for Juliet, a lighter white and beige for the Nurse, and variations on dull red with gold trimming for the Prince and his kinsmen, Mercutio and Paris.  All were costumed in a manner reminiscent of Cavalier or Stuart style.

Right at the outset, Sarah Dodd as the Chorus presented her opening speech in a pleasantly conversational tone (i.e., not portentous or "dramatic"), but she spoke so quietly that many of us in the rear rows had trouble hearing her.  

The spoken "Chorus" was accompanied at each entrance by a very effective counterpoint, a kind of visual chorus of four women dressed in black with hair wrapped in white turbans, each carrying an orb of lights in her hands.  These four grouped around the perimeter of the stage, or moved to other positions, not only for the Chorus but also for other key dramatic moments, especially the final scene in the vault after the deaths of Romeo and Juliet.

In the presentation of characters, this production was a bit uneven.  Juan Chioran as the Prince was certainly strong, but a bit too petulant in some moments.  Petulance was the absolute property of the Capulets, Randy Hughson and Marian Adler.  The script takes them in that direction, of course, but Hughson and Adler made themselves so thoroughly unpleasant that I had no sympathy to spare for them in the final scene.  

The roles of the Montagues are smaller, but even so I found both Jim Codrington and Kim Horsman to be more believable people than their opposite numbers, the Capulets.  What I question was the decision (directorial?) to play all four parents as elderly people suffering from mobility issues.  It almost looked as if both families had put off having children until they were in their 40s, yet Lady Capulet explicitly affirms that she was wedded and bedded at the same age as Juliet (14).  This would suggest that her biological age in the story ought not to be any higher than 28-30!

Among the younger male characters, Evan Buliung stood out for his performance as Mercutio.  The perpetual leer on his face was the perfect visual equivalent to speeches crammed with sexual metaphors, innuendoes, and outright indecencies -- in a word, raunch.  The best part of his work was a whole range of gestures to underline his meanings, gestures which largely avoided the expected or customary but still got the message across.  This aspect of his physical performance was best displayed in the Queen Mab speech.  A very imaginative approach.

Zlatomir Moldovanski's powerful Tybalt dominated the stage, but I wanted more variety of expression, both facially and vocally.  He was a bit monotonous, although unquestionably energetic.  All one level or all one note, so to speak.

Wayne Best gave a fire-eating performance as Friar Laurence, his voice and manner telegraphing nothing of the conventional "man-of-God" one expects to see.  If anything, his Friar was more than a little too secular in manner.

Seana McKenna's Nurse was unquestionably old, rattling amiably through the same story she'd just told with no apparent inkling that she said the exact same thing just moments earlier.  Her expressive face, though, clearly betrayed the character's different shades of feeling even as that cheerful voice prattled away nonstop.  Excellent work, and a real bright light in the show.

As, for different reasons, was Juliet.  Sara Farb had no trouble sounding the tragic depths of the character in the final scenes, but it was her approach to the earlier parts of the play that worked so well for me.  Like many another fourteen year old, she could be totally mature one moment only to fly into a childish tantrum the next.  And fly off the handle she did, several times.  This was a truly adolescent Juliet, all too obviously living out the internal hormonal battles attendant on the transition from childhood to adulthood.  When she completed that journey, in the last minutes, the impact on the audience was indescribable and unmistakable.

Romeo has to go through a similar journey, and Antoine Yared was less effective than Farb only in the sense that his emotional states were painted in blazing primary colours where hers used more diversity of subtler shades.  As a result his shifts in feeling were sometimes a little more abrupt than one might ideally like to see.  One of his highlights was the balcony scene, in which he spent long moments standing in centre stage, top level, with his back to the house, looking up at Juliet as he spoke to her or listened to her.  It takes a good actor to pull off that scene with his face invisible to the audience for such long stretches.

The duel scenes were all fought at high voltage, and with plenty of fast movement around the stage, including up and down the steps.  They were among the production's most effective moments.

Among the least effective, for me, were some of the stylized, ritualistic scenes involving the visual chorus and the walking ghosts of the dead Mercutio and Tybalt.  Once or twice I caught myself thinking, "Well, isn't that clever?"  That's not really the effect desired, I'm sure.

Perhaps, then, not a truly great Romeo and Juliet -- but still a very good one, and with some truly effective performances and a heart-tugging conclusion.  

No comments:

Post a Comment