All entries for Friday 26 December 2008
December 26, 2008
Pastures New for Jacobi
As part of the Donmar’s expansion into the West End, they are featuring a theatrical great with each production. Dame Judi Dench will be appearing in Madame De Sade next year, while Jude Law will be taking on the part of Hamlet following his success in the Donmar’s Othello. Currently, Derek Jacobi is appearing as the “notoriously abused” villain Malvolio in Twelfth Night. Yet, for all the hype that has surrounded his appearance, Jacobi as Malvolio, even kitted out in sunshine-yellow garters and short shorts, left me cold.
To try to shield Shakespeare’s characters from being over-acted is like trying to protect a pig from mud – it is the territory from which they originated – and there is little doubt that an Elizabeth audience enjoyed, and indeed went to see, over-the-top acting. But, in an otherwise sensitive and nuanced production of Twelfth Night directed by Michael Grandage, the character of Malvolio once again has been made into a caricature. Playing him as a pompous, self-absorbed and sullen butler, Jacobi revels in the alliterative and floral language that Shakespeare has allocated Malvolio. Yet often he does so at the expense of pace and believability, seeming to be showcasing his grasp of diction and projection more than his understanding of the character. As Malvolio reads the instruction to smile on the forged note supposedly from Olivia, Jacobi stands on the stage for a good few minutes, with a constipated expression, trying to contort his face into a smile. Then when he finally appears before Olivia in his garish garters, this Malvolio is so unlike his previous self, as he airs his bare thigh with great fervour and gyrates his hips with a randy expression, that we do not feel embarrassed at the gross misunderstanding. Jacobi’s final scene as he is let out of his cell to utter his words of revenge is incredibly poignant, but introduces us to yet another Malvolio, which seems to have come, not out of the ones of the first or second act, but plucked from somewhere totally new.
It is Ron Cook and Guy Henry who provide the real laughs of the evening as the hedonists Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Physical opposites, they are like drunks who are beyond drunkenness in their throwaway gestures and the sentimental expressions that flit across their faces at points. Indiri Varma is also excellent as a haughty, swan-like, but devilishly fun Olivia, for whom Viola (Victoria Hamilton) can reasonably harbour a fierce jealousy. Hamilton gives the performance of the night, however, in her gentle presentation of Viola, the accidental protagonist, who simply finds herself in every situation and must exist concealing a fierce sexual passion and her true identity.
Grandage’s setting of what appears to be the French Riviera in the 1930s is well suited to the frivolity that ensues throughout, and Feste’s hauntingly beautiful musical interludes (magnificently sung by Zubin Varla) tie in with the relaxed and dreamy nature of this warm holiday spot. Like the Riviera sunshine, the production feels bright, clear, and confident in its gentleness. Just sometimes I wish it would probe a little further into new territory and go a bit deeper than the surface with which I feel this production is largely concerned.
In Oklahoma it’s not OK
Watching August: Osage County simulates what it must have been like attending the first production of a play by Pinter, Miller or Albee – it feels momentous, groundbreaking and deeply uncomfortable. What’s more, it has been written and performed astride an era which, for America and the rest of the world, had felt deeply uncomfortable during the Bush administration, but which has now become momentous and groundbreaking with the imminence of Present Elect Obama. The Chicago-based Steppenwolf Ensemble performing Tracy Letts’s new play have expressed their joy that they can now come to Britain with their heads held high, rather than full of apology and embarrassment at America’s blunders. August: Osage County then, it seems, implicitly critiques the diseased American psyche of the Bush years, as much as explicitly examining the corruption and factions that lie within a family. Despite Letts’s play lasting a good three and a half hours, you leave as one leaves Narnia – feeling a heck of a lot has happened, but barely any time has passed.
The immensely talented Steppenwolf ensemble, of which Tracy Letts has been a member since 1985, clearly “know” this play in the biblical sense – down to its most intimate parts. They perform it with immaculate timing, truthfulness and a sense of humour of which there is never a drought, even in the play’s darkest moments. In this busily populated piece set in a scarcely populated region of Oklahoma, daughters and relatives gather after a father commits suicide. The death, however, only prompts grudges, tensions and secrets to surface and, in itself, is remarkably absent from the action of the play. This is no time for consoling or counselling and, instead, individuals verbally hack each other to pieces in a ruthless, but mutual, family feud.
At the decomposing heart of this family are two characters: Violet Weston, superbly played by Deanna Dunagan, is a falcon disguised as a sparrow (interesting that Violet is only one letter short of Violent). As mother, she swoops on her daughters with a shrill voice and a keen eye and, even under the destabilising influence of drugs, Violet is never afraid to stare the truth in the eye and articulate it to the largest possible audience. The other character is Johnna, a Native American girl, who is employed by the father, shortly before his death, in order to look after the household. Johnna, played with beautiful serenity by Kimberly Guerrero, is often seen calmly reading the father’s poetry in the cramped attic room of the house, and is the one figure of calm in the house to whom the family turn when they are at their wits’ end.
As this family’s twisted back-stories unfold, the imaginatively and honestly drawn characters each become a vessel for our sympathy – whether it’s because they’re struggling with domineering parents, living with unfaithful partners, or just simply fighting growing old. What is, at times, a theatrical whirlwind as all of the thirteen characters descend onto one scene, at other times is a chamber play in which we witness the intimate, but painful, conversation as a wife questions her husband as to why he prefers his younger student to her.
Letts refrains from ladling on the modern themes with the intention of shocking us or preaching about how we all must change. Nor does he let the convention of theatre get in the way of its message. Indeed, in some ways, August: Osage County feels distinctly old-fashioned in its use of a naturalistic set and acting style and its adherence to the structure of the well-made play. Letts, in an unremarkable way, is simply presenting us with a family that possesses the problems most families do – the question of who has authority, the difference between liking and loving, and the need always to blame somebody in situations that go wrong. The playwright’s caustic dialogue, however, and his ear for rhythm and humour make the play stand alone from the various other “family” dramas written in recent years.
Whether another ensemble could do as fine a job as the Steppenwolf have done with Letts’s play is difficult to predict. But, certainly, this is a play that I can see going down in history alongside Death of a Salesman, Look Back in Anger and The Birthday Party. Pretty soon, A-Level syllabi will be asking questions not only about The Crucible and McCarthyism, but also about August: Osage County and Obamania.