Presented by Chaika Theatre at ACT Hub, Kingston, Canberra July 24 – August 3, 2024.
Reviewed by Frank McKone
July 25
Director: Luke Rogers; Designer: Kathleen Kershaw
Sound Composition: Rachael Dease; Sound Design: Georgia Snudden
Sound Editing and Arrangement: Luke Rogers
Lighting Design: Disa Swifte; Voice and Text Coach: Sarah Chalmers
Cast:
Mary Stuart – Steph Roberts; Paulet – Cameron Thomas
Mortimer – James McMahon; Young Girl – Lily Welling
Burleigh – Richard Manning; Queen Elizabeth I – Karen Vickery
Ambassador Aubespine – Blue Hyslop; Leicester – Jarrad West
Shrewsbury – Neil McLeod; Davison – Lachlan Herring
Chaika Theatre very effectively uses what I call ‘presentational’ style for Kate Mulvany’s modern feminist approach to the historical story of Queen Elizabeth I executing her cousin Mary Stuart in 1587.
Schiller’s fascination with the story was more focussed on political philosophy, perhaps – about the use and misuse of monarchical power – rather than emphasising the women’s relationships.
You don’t need to know the history, but Life and Deathline of Mary, Queen of Scots, is at the National Museums Scotland site:
https://www.nms.ac.uk/explore-our-collections/stories/scottish-history-and-archaeology/mary-queen-of-scots/mary-queen-of-scots/life-and-deathline-of-mary-queen-of-scots
Roger Paulin, in his introduction to the Flora Kimmich 2020 translation, helps explain my term ‘presentational’: the [original] play is written mainly in a blank verse suited to the close confrontations and the interplay of repartee that are conditional on both moral and political argument and the clash of principles. This enables words and notions that are related in sense to be thrown back at each other in rhetorical encounters, such as those to do with right, justice and the law.
So Chaika has taken the right path in this adaptation, not towards what we call ‘naturalism’, but to show characters in a dramatic plot in order to bring out ideas. And they do that very successfully, except I think for one brief moment.
The setting, of course, is not strictly 16th Century, though it is suggested by the costumes and the mix of older formal and modern colloquial language. But the opening of the second half as a social-media dance party scene really seemed inappropriate for a drinking session for Queen Elizabeth and her presumed lover Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester.
Otherwise, the accompanying sound composition and design by Rachael Dease and Georgia Snudden (originally for Performing Lines WA) and the sound editing and arrangement by Luke Rogers captured the mood perfectly, drawing us in emotionally to so many scenes where concentrating on the words and their significance was crucial.
And, finally, the performances by Karen Vickery and Steph Roberts in the scene where they met, and then in their solos – Elizabeth’s anguish over her nightmare decision to sign the execution order; Mary’s confession according to her belief – brought out the depth of empathy from us for these women, because they were women, in our world of uncompromising politics, which Kate Mulvany wanted her adaptation to create beyond even Friedrich Schiller’s ending, where Elizabeth has lost her lover, Robert, Earl of Leicester – “His Lordship begs your pardon. He is at sea and on his way to France”.
In Schiller, Elizabeth is forced to accept Shrewsbury’s words; “Live, rule content! Your enemy is dead. From now on you have nothing more you must fear and nothing you need to respect.” (She forces herself and stands calm.) The curtain falls.
In Chaika and Kate Mulvany’s dimming of the lights to black, we felt all that she lost in the awful beheading of her cousin, like her father’s beheading of her mother, Anne Boleyn. And we felt for all those women who have no choice but to keeping standing calm.
This Mary Stuart is a valuable contribution to Canberra theatre and our culture.
