The reason I go back to see Shakespeare again and again is because the plays are incredibly flexible, they can take all sorts of concepts and ideas and portrayals and are barely dented by even the most extreme. Even if I hate a production, there’s still joy in the play itself. But sometimes, wonderfully, I see a production that has made what I think of as a revelatory decision – a choice I haven’t seen before that utterly transforms my impression of the play and illuminates something I have never realised before – like Gertrude seeing the ghost in the recent National Hamlet or almost everything about Rupert Goold’s Romeo and Juliet. Those moments are utterly magical, they make the plays seem fresh and brand new again and they are the reason I go to see as many productions as I can. They’re also why I found this production so amazing – it had two revelatory ideas for me – so I hope you’ll forgive me for discussing both in some detail.
The first of these was the choice of casting a female actress, the sublime Emma Pallant, as Jacques – Madam Jacques as she is styled here. Jacques has always been a character I’ve found difficult and sometimes frustrating, partly as he’s so often displayed as the voice of wisdom in the play when I’ve found him mostly ridiculous – I think it is why I enjoyed Forbes Masson’s performance, because he highlighted that side of the character. Seeing this performance though made everything fall into place for me and it changed not only my appreciation of the character but also coloured my impression of the play. Pallant’s Jacques is an intensely nuanced character – managing to be clever, brittle, vulnerable, strong and wickedly funny all at once. She felt like a character who had suffered a great hurt, leaving her deeply damaged but who was also in the process of rebuilding herself, of reaching out and making new connections – an almost perfect portrait of what the Forest of Arden represents to all the characters.
This changed perspective also completely transformed the way I understood the infamous “Seven Ages” speech. It was as if someone had poked me and made me take a step backwards and for the first time consider where women are in this tale of men’s posturing, leaving an oddly skin tingling moment of realisation that made me cry. I was fascinated by the character and her view of the world – I wanted to know about her past and ached for her in the present. It was perfect.
Another important result of the presence of Madam Jacques in the play is that it focuses for the audience that Ganymede is for Rosalind a choice, not a necessity in the way it is for Viola for example. Right from the start we know that’s the case, she suggests that she dresses up as a man to protect them and then immediately also suggests bringing a man with them, making her earlier suggestion unnecessary – yet she takes the disguise anyway. Rosalind wants the disguise, she wants the freedom of being Ganymede and in many ways that’s the biggest barrier between her and Orlando. She’s not willing to give it up and in many ways her choice is both the focus of the play and what the audience are invested in. Having a very real example of a woman living freely and safely in the forest I think highlights that beautifully.
All of which, sort of links on to the second ‘revelatory’ moment for me – the moment of recognition for Orlando that he is speaking not to Ganymede, but to Rosalind. This production presents that moment by far the earliest I have ever seen, during their very first meeting and I adored it. I adored everything it did to their relationship, and especially to the journey of that relationship. There’s something about the shared nature of their lie, both knowing the truth and knowing that the other is equally aware of that, which is utterly charming. More beautifully for me, it also gives Orlando a much more interesting journey – he can often seem both foolish and quite passive in the play – here he is first squirmingly embarrassed to be discovered in his poetry, then desperately trying both to keep up with Rosalind, to work out what it is they’re doing and to impress her, then he is trying to convince her and at last confront her. I think the discovery, through Celia and Oliver’s relationship, how easy love can be becomes a much clearer turning point for Orlando – that the barriers they face are internally created for them, which I think is a beautiful portrayal of a relationship on Shakespeare’s behalf. Though as with all interpretations, I might have got that utterly wrong.
All of which makes it sound very serious but it truly isn’t because this also allows the playful side of Rosalind and Orlando’s relationship to shine through. The combination of the realness of the relationship and the fun contained within it makes it a joyful experience to watch them and impossible not to root for them. It also helps, of course, that both Jo Herbert as Rosalind and Gunnar Cauthery as Orlando are superb in their roles and have fantastic chemistry. They have created two characters that seem perfect for each other and I especially loved how they have matched the similarity in the way Shakespeare has the characters speak with a more physical mirroring (both, for example, at separate points do backward rolls to get on their feet – it’s a small touch, but incredibly effective for the audience in aligning the characters). Herbert’s Rosalind in particular blew me away – it was a much quirkier, frenetic and less controlled performance than I’ve seen before, you can see her making things up as she goes along (with varied results) – which suits my reading of the character better than the wiser Rosalinds I’ve seen before.
All three of the actors I’ve already discussed, exceptional as they all are, are of course reliant upon the impressive strength of the small ensemble, each of who portrayed a variety of roles, creating memorable characters in each and each with moments where they truly shone. I adored the combination of caring and archness in Beth Park’s Celia; she brought a delightful comedy to the first half and remained a beautifully present figure in Arden where Celia is too often forgotten (in my perfect world she and Lady Jacques run off and solve crimes together, with their own brand of Victorian good cop, bad cop). Gregory Gudgeon brings a uniquely physical approach to Touchstone, which had me giggling manically more often than I should admit. William Oxburrow conveys the dramatic journey Oliver experiences startlingly well, managing to maintain a surprising cohesiveness to the character, whilst conjuring the most memorable exit for Sir Oliver Martext I have ever seen. John O’Mahoney is utterly charming as Duke Senior, strumming a ukulele with a twinkle in his eyes and I found his relationship with Lady Jacques genuinely touching. And, last but not least, Ben Lamb (who has kept an excellent vlog about the tour here) managed to be far more memorable as both La Beau and Charles the Wrestler than any performer I’ve seen before and also created a truly beautiful Silvius, capturing one of my favourite speeches in Act 5, Scene 2 perfectly (there’s a change of tone during the speech that I loved). There’s also the most charming Audrey you are ever likely to meet, though I won’t spoil that here. Individually they each produced excellent performances and together it creates something truly magical.
As well as these revelatory moments and superb ensemble of actors, the production also treats its audience to an incredible texture. The Victorian setting works superbly, adding an array of beautiful ideas and contexts to the play, as does the use of the framing device of the travelling players. There’s also a joyful attention to detail throughout, with every scene providing a wealth of beautiful, funny and memorable moments, which even if I tried to list I doubt I’d be able to. It makes the show a richly rewarding experience for the audience. This is also true of the music, played throughout by the actors themselves and creating a softly evocative feel to the scenes whether during the linking moments or in the ridiculously memorable songs (I can already confirm they are complete “ear worms” having woken up with the backing vocals to ‘Come Hither’ swimming around my brain). The company have also managed to work in a surprising number of my favourite instruments – ukulele, kazoo, accordion, spoons – if they’d managed to work in a cowbell and a double bass it would have been heaven. By the end of the performance all this detail and tone are almost overwhelming and left me grinning from ear to ear.
Finally (at last, thank god), I can only end by talking about how amazing the audience were on the first night – probably the most insanely wonderful I have ever been in. At the end of Charles and Orlando’s fight, Cauthery raised his arms in victory and the Globe erupted – it was a visceral roar of cheering sweeping across me to the stage, like being in a stadium and from that moment on everything was greeted by gales of laughter, loud “awwws” and cheering. Even costume changes received rounds of applause (they were impressive costume changes). Moments like that are why I love the Globe so much, though I hate noise in the theatre as much as the next regular (I once caught myself glaring at someone for wearing too much noisy jewellery – much to my own horror) – there’s something incredibly liberating to be able to react in this way. To get caught up in each moment and express it, to feel such a part of the performance and to lose yourself in the mobbish enjoyment of the play. And the response to As You Like It was just incredible and completely, utterly deserved.
Go and see it.
Will do! Absolutely wonderful piece.
ReplyDelete@Alex Ramon Excellent, glad the badgering people is paying off, everyone should see it. And thanks for the compliment.
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