Much Ado About Nothing: Oldies at the Old Vic

When: Tuesday 29^th October

Where: Old Vic

Why: Mission to see every version of Much Ado that is produced – ongoing

I sort of can’t be bothered to give this production a scathing review, as somehow I feel like that would be expending energy on something which didn’t give me any energy in the first place. It doesn’t deserve my strong opinion either way.

The twist on this oft-performed play was that the ultimate Shakespearean couple Beatrice and Benedick were played by an older couple – here, the venerable James Earl-Jones (voice of Mufasa, who knew?) and Vanessa Redgrave. I say twist; I think that was the plan, but simply hiring older actors to play the parts and leaving them to it wasn’t really enough, in my opinion. There was much made of this unusual casting in the press, it was meant to be an intriguing new interpretation and a new perspective on a classic – but as far as I could see, it made no difference at all.

Redgrave and JE-J played the roles so straight that I lost all interest before the interval. Almost all the humour in the lines was completely lost due to JE-J simply reading his lines out in a monotone cascade while sat in a chair at the side of the stage (- for variation, sometimes he stood up at the side of the stage, legs splayed, and read out his lines in a monotone cascade). I can’t blame the main couple entirely for the production’s lack of dynamism and humour, but they were an essential part of it, and greatly contributed to my bitter sense of disappointment as I’d been expecting a lot from these greats. Not to mention the fact that this version was directed by the brilliant Mark Rylance, who is unquestionably an acting genius. I saw Rylance’s talk near the start of the run, and although generally fairly interesting, he didn’t seem hugely fired up about the production which I think carried through to the actual performances. It was set in the second world war for “no particular reason”, other than it allowed Rylance to incorporate an all-black regiment from the time, which fitted in nicely with the casting of JE-J. But there was a kind of reserved blankness in Rylance’s talk which disconcerted me at the time, then made total sense when I saw the play. Maybe he already knew it was going to flop.

There are some positives. This was the first version of Much Ado that I’ve seen where the comedy scenes (Dogberry, Verges, the guard) didn’t annoy me beyond belief – and yes, that includes the classic Kenneth Branagh film and the beauteous Eve Best version at the Globe. The guard were played by children which added the only energy to be found in the play and provided an interesting contrast to the elderly couple, and they did it admirably. There was also a brilliant moment with an old gardener doing some epic crazy dancing behind some tedious scene or other. Redgrave had a couple of nice moments of delivery (her voice is captivating), particularly during Beatrice’s softer moments, such as “and then a star danced”. And the music was good.

However. The staging was totally rubbish and a bit bizarre – a large wooden canopy dominated the stage and was impossible to use to good effect. It was all but ignored during the gulling scenes, when it might have been somewhat useful, and it broke up the stage in an unhelpful way. It was used to good effect only during the funeral scene where it created a shroud and some dynamism with Claudio stood on top delivering his eulogy to Hero. The canopy just seemed to always be in the way and was overly modern for a self-proclaimed old fashioned telling of the story. When you’re playing it straight and your two main characters don’t do much other than sit in a chair or stand in one place, maybe a more interesting stage would have helped to lift the mood.

One review has called this version of Much Ado a “misdirected oddity” and I think that’s exactly right. It was baffling because it seemed that no thought or logic had been put into how or why this couple were older and how they fitted in with the rest of the characters. There was little attention to detail and it was lacklustre in a way I haven’t seen since that fateful Lana Del Rey concert.

Disappointed by Rylance, Redgrave and JE-J, and the Old Vic.

Brixpig x

Hedda Gabler

When: Monday 10^th September

Where: Old Vic

Why: Smith, Reid, Scarborough – can’t go wrong 

10th September was the last night I could have a cheap under-25 ticket at the Old Vic (or indeed any theatre with an under-25 ticket offer) so I decided to make the most of this devastating occasion by popping in to see their production of Hedda Gabler. Fundamentally, I really enjoyed it and thought it was a fascinating version of the play, supported by a proper good cast. My main issue was with the new translation by Brian Friel which at times I just found infuriating. I did enjoy the comedic element that was brought out in this version, and the small touches of it seemed natural and a welcome addition to what has to be one of the most intense plays ever. If only it had been left at that though.

The randomly added lengthy diversions about Tesman’s slippers and later his mad (if hilarious) reaction to the news of Hedda’s pregnancy were just a bit too obvious. I don’t think in the original that it’s ever mentioned explicitly that she is pregnant, but it’s all sly hints and guesswork, which is surely the point. Here it’s brought up super obviously right from the start and it’s all too much, as if this becomes Hedda’s sole motivation for ending things, which is not the case. Although important I think it’s given too much weight in this version.

The main problem with the script (I’m aware I’m being hilariously presumptuous but I say what I see) was just that a lot seemed to be laid on the line and explained in thorough, unnecessary and inappropriate detail, going pretty much against the entire point of the character of Hedda and the nature of the play itself. The script has been described as “heavy-handed” and not leaving enough to the imagination, which is absolutely accurate. I don’t especially want Hedda Gabler chatting on about her deepest psychological reasonings for her behaviour, essentially telling us all exactly what’s going on in her head rather than letting it come out naturally. I didn’t mind the explanation that she sometimes seems possessed by a devil, but that line itself would have been enough, without a further five minutes of soul-baring. Hedda just doesn’t do that. By the end, she becomes openly hysterical and almost pathetic, when the point is that this should all be bubbling under the surface rather than collapsed out on the lap of the audience. That’s why Hedda is such a notorious part to play and requires an actress who’s a master of complexity.

However. All this is not at all to say that Sheridan Smith isn’t a match for the role. Very much the opposite in fact. What she does with this sometimes stupid script is beautifully consistent and a presentation of a lighter, more vulnerable Hedda. I’ve only seen the play once before, at a screening at the V&A in March of the Eve Best and Benedict Cumberbatch version. That was definitive and dark and I loved it. It’s also hard to compare to this production (not only because I saw it on a screen rather than in real life) but because the Best version was much more traditional. Smith’s Hedda hides and shrinks, seems almost trapped, snapping and reacting to what’s happening to her, rather than the more traditional approach of a strident, bold presence rampaging around her cage which is how we see Best. Great to have seen both interpretations though, and interesting to see the vulnerability that Smith brings to Hedda which simply isn’t present in Best’s. Other reviewers have pointed out Sheridan Smith’s eyes, and if you’re close enough to see them they are enormously captivating and characterful. They pull you in and invite you to stare into Hedda’s soul (again, not something you could have done with Eve Best’s Hedda) – they literally sparkle not only with tears but in turn with rage, malice, fear, frustration and laughter. She manages to capture and demonstrate the real tragedy of knowing your own character all too well and the inevitable pain that comes from that. Which I would say is the most important part of Hedda Gabler’s personality and is why Smith succeeds at the role.

Sneaky stage photo

The one benefit of the heightened comedy in this version is the juxtaposition of the dark and light that comes across so effectively. The crazed inappropriateness of Tesman’s delighted prancing at Hedda’s pregnancy revelation so closely and uncomfortably followed by her tragic end is representative of the nature of the entire play. The tension between the jokes and the audience’s rising anticipation is impeccably done. We see this in the way Hedda’s bright smile instantly falls from her face when she’s alone, showing her two sides and the fact that in this play everything is about fate and is constantly balancing on knife edge. There is constant movement in the staging, everyone trotting through doors opening and closing them again (also hinting at the secrets which are contained everywhere in the house) and the disturbance shown in the dramatically billowing curtains. It’s very effectively played and there’s a modernness to the movement and how they all fit together.

As mentioned, Smith is brilliant, but the rest of the cast provide some great performances too. Adrian Scarborough is so funny as the bumbling George Tesman, and the role (in this more comedic version) is ideally suited to his subtly lovable style. I was also excited to see Anne Reid in the (all too small) role of Auntie JuJu – she’s just such a quality performer and greatly suited to the kindly dignity of this role. Fenella Woolgar as Thea was also impressive and added so many more dimensions to this role. Her dramatic pose facing directly out to the audience at the end clutching the notes of Loevborg’s destroyed book is full of purpose and intent, and gives the impression that there’s so much more to come in the story and makes you wish there was a sequel. Daniel Lapaine as Loevborg was appropriately desperate and confused, but Darrell D’Silva as Judge Brack wasn’t quite as dignified or menacing as he could have been. The completely random addition of his love for American jive talk didn’t really work at all, and didn’t seem to lend anything in particular to us understanding his character any more. Time Out describe this version of Brack as “about as sexually threatening as a cardigan” which made me burst out laughing and is pretty accurate.

I love Ibsen’s portrayals of women taking control in the only ways they know how or are able – as Nora in A Doll’s House leaves and takes her destiny finally into her own hands, here too Hedda undertakes the act of supreme control over her life in her (pleasingly gory) final act.

All in all it is an engaging and intriguing production and I would heartily recommend you go. It’s worth it just for Sheridan Smith alone – she really is supremely talented.

Brixpig x