2016: King Charles III by Mike Bartlett

King Charles III by Mike Bartlett.  Almeida Theatre, London, presented by Sydney Theatre Company and Adshel.  Directed by Rupert Goold at Roslyn Packer Theatre, April 4-30, 2016.

All photos by Prudence Upton

Reviewed by Frank McKone
April 6

I am literally in two minds about how to write about this terrific play.  The Almeida production of the play is excellent, too, whichever mind I’m in.  So if you want to stop reading here, just get along to see the show.  It will at the very least stir up your opinions on Republic Australia, and probably give you a perspective you may never have thought of.

I could place Bartlett’s King Charles III in the theatrical culture of Britain, which would necessarily entail links to the two other great British playwrights – George Bernard Shaw (in his less than well known play The Apple Cart 1929), and William Shakespeare (in his very well known Henry IV and V, mid-1590s, as well as Hamlet, Prince of Denmark c.1603).

I could legitimately do this at least because Bartlett has used the Shakespearean form, the iambic pentameter, to write the dialogue.  And it works a treat.

And, of course, the theme of queen and king-ship still sends people into paroxysms, even if not nowadays to nunneries.

The Royal Family
Robert Powell, Richard Glaves, Jennifer Bryden, Ben Righton, Carolyn Pickles
as King Charles III, Prince Henry of Wales, Duchess and Duke Kate and William of Cambridge, Duchess Camilla of Cornwall

On the other hand I could respond much more personally.  I arrived in Australia as a 14-year-old, out of the British working class (my father was a small scale sub-contractor in the plastering business – long before the CFMEU, of course).  The year was 1955. I had watched the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II on our new-fangled tele for more than 12 hours straight in 1952.  I was determined to escape the English class system where, despite my fair success at Grammar School the best I was likely to achieve would have been to become an electrician like three of my uncles.

Of course, I was a republican.  Who could seriously countenance the continuation of the monarchy in the land of Shakespeare and Shaw?

Robert Powell as King Charles III

So I was quite disturbed towards the end of King Charles III to find myself almost with some sympathy for the current Prince of Wales (who in the play at one time forgets to include Wales in the United Kingdom!)  He becomes King immediately his mother dies, giving him no time at all to learn the ropes, which include always signing bills which have been passed by Parliament whatever he privately thinks of the new law.

The last time an English monarch refused to sign was 1708, when Queen Anne refused to assent to occupy Scotland with a standing military force (probably giving Bonnie Prince Charlie a bit of a better chance in 1745).  Of course, before that, when kings still thought they had the divine right to absolute rule, Charles I had his head chopped off in 1649, (while Charles II was so excited by his 12 years’ exile in France that he issued a royal warrant in 1662 declaring that in England all female roles should be played only by female actresses).

Charles III, for defying the will of Parliament as he does in the play, will almost certainly not be executed, but the problem for me was that his reason is because he supports freedom of the Press, while Parliament wants to put in place draconian restrictions and penalties, as a result of that dear old US citizen and ex-Australian Rupert Murdoch’s phone-hacking shenanigans.

I do not want to reveal what does happen in the play, but I can say that Mike Bartlett is much braver than Bernard Shaw or William Shakespeare.  WS, of course, could have had his head cut off if he had put Queen Elizabeth I and James I (VI of Scotland) on stage when they were still alive.  Or recently dead, even – Anthony Burgess (in his Shakespeare 1970) noted after her death in 1603 “The actors had to have their eyes on him who entered next.  Ten years were to go by before Shakespeare, in Henry VIII, just before the Globe was to go up in flames, presented those past glories [of Elizabeth’s father] as future ones.”

Robert Powell as King Charles III,
Ben Righton and Jennifer Bryden as William and Kate,
Duke and Duchess of Cambridge

Bernard Shaw’s King Magnus upsets the apple cart in a fictional Romanesque setting, by presaging – perhaps – the future of abdications after 1929.  Except that “In 1936, a constitutional crisis in the British Empire arose when King-Emperor Edward VIII proposed to marry Wallis Simpson, an American socialite who was divorced from her first husband and was pursuing a divorce of her second” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_VIII_abdication_crisis , while King Magnus abdicates with the intention of standing for election to Parliament.

Shaw wrote comedy, so I didn’t have to feel sorry for King Magnus when he cleverly announces:

MAGNUS:    My last act of royal authority will be to divest myself of all titles and dignities; so that I may step down at once into the position of a commoner.
BOANERGES:  Step up, you mean.  The common man is the superior, not the inferior, of the titled man........

PROTEUS:    [To the King]  I say, whats the game?
MAGNUS:    There is no imposing on you, Prime Minister.  The game is, of course, that when I come back into politics I shall be in a better position as a commoner than as a peer.  I shall seek a parliamentary seat.
PROTEUS:    You in the House of Commons!
MAGNUS:    [blandly]  It is my intention to offer myself to the Royal Borough of Windsor as a candidate at the forthcoming General Election.......[which he will have caused by having dissolved parliament].

Penguin Plays, 1956

So there we have it.  The last occasion I know of  when a representative of royalty effectively dissolved a parliament without being advised to do so by the Prime Minister was in Australia in 1975.  Long live Sir John Kerr!  I have never felt sorry for him!

Lucy Phelps as Jess and Richard Glaves as Harry

In King Charles III, the one character (or rather real person as he in fact is) that I ended up feeling most sorry for was Prince Harry, who (in the fictional play) falls in love with a young woman republican.  He tries to persuade his father to divest him “of all titles and dignities” so he can become a commoner and live a normal life with Jess.  Like his namesake, the young Prince Harry before he became Henry V, Bartlett's Harry has to do the equivalent of Shakespeare’s Harry’s denial of Falstaff, and, dressed in full rig (looking to me rather like Libya’s Gaddafi), he has to tell Jess he must support his brother and the monarchy.







In reality, the sorrow I felt was for Jess, and for the Britain that cannot divest itself of monarchy.  I’m old enough now not to be around for very many more years, but as Queen Elizabeth approaches 90 and I hope to have another 20 years if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll live to see what really happens to Charles, Diana’s sons William and Harry, their wives Kate and Chelsy (or Cressida, perhaps?), when the current phase of constitutional monarchy comes to end.

At this point in time, the play’s the thing wherein [you]’ll catch the conscience of the king.  You only have till the end of the month, but the trip to Sydney is well worth it.  On the way, check out the freedom of the press at http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3423700/Has-Charles-Diana-s-toxic-divorce-scared-Harry-marriage-life-party-loving-crowd-settles-Prince-s-friends-ask-terminally-single-royal-love.html


©Frank McKone, Canberra

2016: Savages by Patricia Cornelius

Savages by Patricia Cornelius.  Darlinghurst Theatre Company, Sydney, directed by Tim Roseman at Eternity Playhouse, Burton Street, Darlinghurst, April 1 – May 1, 2016.

Designers: Production – Jeremy Allen; Movement – Julia Cotton; Lighting – Sian James-Holland; Composer and Sound – Nate Edmondson.

Cast: Josef Ber – Rabbit; Thomas Campbell – Runt; Yure Covich – Craze; Troy Harrison – George.

Photos by Helen White

Reviewed by Frank McKone
April 6

Why did Dianne Brimble die?  This question is the source of an investigation of too many men’s attitudes towards women.  How do things play out when normal restraints are are removed?  On a cruise ship, for example.

The story of the real events can be read in considerable detail at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_of_Dianne_Brimble, but this 90 minute drama is not a re-telling of an action plot.  Patricia Cornelius has imagined what went through the minds of four men, why they as a group were on the cruise ship, and how they responded to the situation.  In enacting and scripting what at first sight might look like an exploratory roleplay workshop, Cornelius shows much more than why Dianne Brimble died.

Tom Campbell, Yure Covich, Josef Ber and Troy Harrison

Here are the innocents enthralled with the feeling of freedom from the constraints of their fraught marriages, or failures to marry, on land.  The ship for them is the opportunity for self- and especially sexual indulgence.




Life in their cramped cabin, under the water-line, all they could afford, or all that was left after their disorganised delayed bookings, a responsibility dumped on somewhat naive Runt.  The group is not as together as it may seem.



Life on the sundeck is OK – but where’s the action?



After the action......



These 40-year-olds have known each other since school days.  They had two essential attitudes: bucking against authority, and assuming predatory rights over women.  They maintain their bond as a group through finding everything funny – except when the unspoken rules of male status are broken within the group.  Though the word was not used in the script, it’s ‘mateship’ that they come back to as they resolve tensions.  Respect is for maintaining the internal hierarchy, rather than for truth.

At 40, their basic teenage selves have not changed.  They claim to love their wives, but sex and love are absolutely distinct from each other – as they have become in their families.  Each character has his own personality, but they each, in their own way, cannot cope with women having authority.

This is why Dianne Brimble died.

Cornelius’ scripting of the words these men use, the way they find their humour, and even express their wonder, can make us laugh at times, as can their slapstick physicality.  The set which abstractly represents the cruise ship is cleverly constructed and lit, with music and sound used effectively to mark the changes in mood – and even make us laugh again in a drunken karaoke scene.  Until the laughter fades and we see the reality.

This perhaps is best displayed in the actual words of Letterio "Leo" Silvestri, some of which were used in the play: 'During the interview, Silvestri spoke of Brimble in disparaging terms, saying "she smelt, she was black and she was ugly." Silvestri also described her as "desperate", "a yuck-ugly dog" and a "fat thing." Silvestri told the police interviewers he was angry because Brimble "fucked up his holiday' by dying in his cabin.”

Enough said.  Savages indeed.

©Frank McKone, Canberra

2016: Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. Bell Shakespeare

Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.  Bell Shakespeare directed by Peter Evans.  Canberra Theatre Centre Playhouse, April 2-9, 2016.

Designers: Set and Costumes – Anna Cordingley; Lighting – Benjamin Cisterne; Composer and Sound – Kelly Ryall; Movement and Fight – Nigel Poulton; Voice – Jess Chambers.

Cast
Romeo – Alex Williams; Juliet – Kelly Paterniti; Benvolio – Jacob Warner; Mercutio/Prince – Damien Strouthos; Tybalt/Apothecary – Tom Stokes; Lady Capulet – Angie Milliken; Paris/Abraham – Michael Gupta; Lord Capulet – Justin Stewart Cotta; Friar/Samson – Hazem Shammas; Nurse – Michelle Doake; Lord Montague/Peter/Friar John – Cramer Cain.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
April 2

All photos by Daniel Boud

 

Every time I see a new production of a Shakespeare play, I learn something new.  Peter Evans’ version of this ‘most famous’ play, Romeo and Juliet, tells me how important it is to set it in its own period – 16th Century Verona – rather than try to make it ‘modern’. 

It’s not that I disliked Kip Williams’ STC 2013 production (reviewed on this blog September 25, 2013), where Paris and Romeo in modern costume shot at each other with hand guns in a barely-lit Capulet mausoleum, looking rather like a tv crime fiction shoot-out in an underground car park or a decrepit old factory.  That approach made Juliet clearly into a symbol of modern feminism as her spirit rose to bring the scourge of family violence to an end.

But how wonderful it was to be immersed in the colour and grandeur of old Verona in Anna Cordingley’s design.  In this setting, Shakespeare’s play takes us back in time to show how modern his understanding was 400 years ago, and how important it is that we keep up our determination to emphasise love and equality over entrenched power and violence.  Oddly, staying true to Shakespeare’s original – itself a setting in a fictional and therefore symbolic Verona – deepens the emotional impact and the universal significance of his work.

After the show, Evans spoke of his realisation that Romeo and Juliet is Shakespeare’s most famous play – it’s the play almost everyone knows and quotes – and his fear that his production might not come up to expectations.  In thanking his team – cast, designers and crew – not only for the successful prior run in Sydney but especially for the extra week’s work in preparing the show for the Canberra Playhouse, he demonstrated in my view the very nature of the theme of the play – of working together.  I have a suspicion that Shakespeare would recognise Evans as a worthy colleague if he were here today.

Of the many qualities which stood out for me, I want to mention three.

First was the clarity of voice and interpretation of speeches, for which not only the actors but surely Jess Chambers must be praised.  The young characters in this play are energetic in the extreme and highly intellectual.  For a modern audience, their speeches can become an incomprehensible blurr of poetic or ironic words.  In this production, the welding of imagery and ‘chop logic’ into the emotional relationships was perfectly done, especially by Damien Strouthos as Mercutio and Kelly Paterniti as Juliet.

Damien Strouthos (Mercutio), Alex Williams (Romeo)

Kelly Paterniti (Juliet)

Then the movement and fight directing by Nigel Poulton not only gave us a sense of energy – especially through the highly realistic sword fighting scenes (perhaps not done so well before since the days of Errol Flynn) – but also providing the contrast needed for the ritual quiet sadness for the dead in the final scene – enhanced by Kelly Ryall’s sound design.

Damien Strouthos (Mercutio), Tom Stokes (Tybalt)

Alex Williams (Romeo)

Lastly, among the individual characters, the Capulet family held the play together. 

Alex Williams (Romeo), Michelle Doake (Nurse)

Michelle Doake’s Nurse was surely the funniest, certainly that I have ever seen.  Yet at no point was her character improbable, as she turned from being entirely engrossed in supporting her ‘baby’ Juliet to trying to persuade her to accept a marriage to Paris against her feelings.

Michelle Doake (Nurse), Kelly Paterniti (Juliet)

Juliet’s father, in Justin Stewart Cotta’s interpretation, became the epitome of autocratic power – true to his position in Shakespeare’s day – and yet with such an extreme reaction to the challenge represented by Juliet’s refusal to marry by his command – at the age of 14, mind you – that we could see the psychological failure in Lord Capulet.

Justin Stewart Cotta (Lord Capulet), Kelly Paterniti (Juliet)

His required social/family role was tearing him apart.  In other productions, I have seen Capulet as no more than a conventional father of his period, accepting his role as given.  Cotta gave us a much more complex personality, alongside his wife (Angie Milliken) – more  afraid of him than the teenager Juliet – who finally speaks over her daughter’s dead body “O me!  this sight of death is as a bell, That warns my old age of a sepulchre.”

And finally, there is Kelly Paterniti.

Kelly Paterniti (Juliet)

Although perhaps cast partly for her exqusitely tiny proportions which absolutely focussed our attention among all those tall very adult figures, it was her interpretation of Juliet, the young, naive, loving yet entirely rational teenager that held us in thrall in the first half.  Then, as her father’s implacable position sinks in, she grows up as a woman, independent and self-determined even unto her tragic conclusion.

Alex Williams (Romeo), Kelly Paterniti (Juliet)

Kelly Paterniti (Juliet), Alex Williams (Romeo)

Kelly Paterniti (Juliet)

If Peter Evans had worries about matching our expectations, he need be concerned no longer.

Sketches by Anna Cordingley



©Frank McKone, Canberra