The Changeling
May. 15th, 2006 11:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
example22There's theatre that you remember, and theatre that you forget.
In the "forgettable" category, my most recent entry is the Hampstead theatre's production of The Schuman Plan, which I started to forget before I'd even left the theatre. During the interval, I asked Ping why on earth we were watching a play about the EU Common Fisheries Policy (yes, really), and it turned out that he'd wanted to see the set design. Oh, well. At least the actor playing Ted Heath had the mannerisms down pat, and the guy playing Clement Attlee really looked like him. Not that Ping would have known either way, since he bain't from round these parts, and he'd never heard of Heath or Attlee.
On the memorable side, though, there's Cheek by Jowl's fabulous production of The Duchess of Malfi, which I saw in 1995 and still remember clearly. It was that and Robert Wilson's one-man Hamlet, also in 1995, that made me love theatrical minimalism (as opposed to just thinking of it as being a useful stunt for when there's no budget for props or costumes). Those were worldview-changing productions, at least for me, which is why I bought tickets for Cheek by Jowl's current show: The Changeling, at the Barbican.
The Changeling is a Jacobean tragedy by Thomas Middleton and William Rowley. The costumes are just ordinary suits, and the set comprises a dozen orange plastic stacking chairs, a desk and some terribly dramatic lighting. The Barbican is currently being refurbished, so the whole thing has the air of being staged in a warehouse somewhere, right down to the temporary seating for the audience. The plot is: woman W is to be married to X, but fancies Y, so she gets faithful servant Z to murder X so that she can marry Y instead. Alas, Z wants W for himself, and isn't inclined to go away. After a suitable number of mistaken-identity plots, a couple of magical potions, a particularly grisly murder and a great deal of comic business involving a lunatic asylum, we arrive two and a half hours later at the only possible resolution allowable under the circumstances. Even I, semi-literate heathen that I am, couldn't mistake this for Shakespeare -- there's the odd moment where even the most forgiving viewer will wonder whether any real person would behave as some of the characters do -- but this was still good fun, and the first act was particularly gripping.
Anyhow, if you must buy theatre tickets on impulse, there are certainly many worse things on offer. Speaking of which, the truly appalling opening scene of The Schuman Plan is coming back to me now. I think I'll stop typing while I'm ahead...
In the "forgettable" category, my most recent entry is the Hampstead theatre's production of The Schuman Plan, which I started to forget before I'd even left the theatre. During the interval, I asked Ping why on earth we were watching a play about the EU Common Fisheries Policy (yes, really), and it turned out that he'd wanted to see the set design. Oh, well. At least the actor playing Ted Heath had the mannerisms down pat, and the guy playing Clement Attlee really looked like him. Not that Ping would have known either way, since he bain't from round these parts, and he'd never heard of Heath or Attlee.
On the memorable side, though, there's Cheek by Jowl's fabulous production of The Duchess of Malfi, which I saw in 1995 and still remember clearly. It was that and Robert Wilson's one-man Hamlet, also in 1995, that made me love theatrical minimalism (as opposed to just thinking of it as being a useful stunt for when there's no budget for props or costumes). Those were worldview-changing productions, at least for me, which is why I bought tickets for Cheek by Jowl's current show: The Changeling, at the Barbican.
The Changeling is a Jacobean tragedy by Thomas Middleton and William Rowley. The costumes are just ordinary suits, and the set comprises a dozen orange plastic stacking chairs, a desk and some terribly dramatic lighting. The Barbican is currently being refurbished, so the whole thing has the air of being staged in a warehouse somewhere, right down to the temporary seating for the audience. The plot is: woman W is to be married to X, but fancies Y, so she gets faithful servant Z to murder X so that she can marry Y instead. Alas, Z wants W for himself, and isn't inclined to go away. After a suitable number of mistaken-identity plots, a couple of magical potions, a particularly grisly murder and a great deal of comic business involving a lunatic asylum, we arrive two and a half hours later at the only possible resolution allowable under the circumstances. Even I, semi-literate heathen that I am, couldn't mistake this for Shakespeare -- there's the odd moment where even the most forgiving viewer will wonder whether any real person would behave as some of the characters do -- but this was still good fun, and the first act was particularly gripping.
Anyhow, if you must buy theatre tickets on impulse, there are certainly many worse things on offer. Speaking of which, the truly appalling opening scene of The Schuman Plan is coming back to me now. I think I'll stop typing while I'm ahead...
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Date: 2006-05-16 02:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-16 03:10 pm (UTC)It's a nice theatre, though. Recently refurbished, very glossy and lots of leg room. They're currently doing a comedy about Richard Feynman, and I'm tempted.