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| The wars in progress. Photo Daniel Abroguena |
Director Lexi Sekuless has hit upon a canny way to
explore Shakespeare's lesser-known history plays.
With an endless cavalcade of politicians and warriors from the
English Wars of the Roses, the three Henry VI plays are hard-going for modern audiences
and the mishmash of names – Gloucester, Suffolk, Salisbury, Warwick, York and so
on, is daunting.
Occasionally somebody really famous pops up, like Joan of
Arc, but she's dead by the time this play begins.
Problems abound, despite the flashes of brilliant acting
moments in the complex story.
But performed with an unbelievably tight cast, just 5 actors
to play all the parts, Sekuless has them as an acting troupe who from time to
time, share with the audience the names of the characters they are about to
impersonate. It helps a lot.
Added to that device are the punk-inspired costumes by Tania
Jobson which clearly delineate the characters, and as with Queen Margaret’s
studs-and nails costume (her saintly husband Henry is swathed in black with a crucifix
dangling from the waist) they give an indication of the characters.
Backgrounding the action is a rock soundscape by Andre
Pinzon using music by Ukrainian composer Ikoliks which matches the stabbing and
thrusting that surfaces in many actual battle scenes, which are designed by
movement director, Stefanie Lekkas.
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| Queen Margaret and King Henry at court. Photo Daniel Abroguena |
One of the clever tricks of the production is to give the
impression of huge crowds through banners and posters bearing the faces of the
various protagonists, even wrapping the audience up in one of them at one point.
Scenic designer Kathleen Kershaw has chalked up red and
white rose slogans for the houses of Lancaster and York respectively, enhancing
the impression of sheer chaos.
It would be hard to find a more adept Shakespearean language
coach than Sekuless, and the refreshing fact that you could hear and understand
every word spoken by the actors plays no small part in bringing the play to life.
Bell Shakespeare can rarely equal this.
And what a rogues’ gallery of characters!
There’s the handsome manipulator, Suffolk played by Mark
Lee, something of a sex god who holds sway over Queen Margaret played by Amy
Kowalczuk.
There’s the lady Eleanor, wife of the Lord Protector, Gloucester, and in the hands of Heidi
Silberman a harridan, whose downfall is a weird séance intended to conjure up
her bright future.
As the wavering Henry VI, Chips Jin perhaps overplayed the
king’s gentle indecisiveness.
In a sympathetic portrayal, Kate Blackhurst managed to
summon up an element of dignity in Gloucester, the only decent human being in
the play, but I must admit to considerable confusion in the use of “she” for Gloucester,
for Blackhurst plainly played the part as a “he”.
The other characters form a nasty conniving bunch, seen in the
sinister scene where Margaret, Suffolk and their allies make a pact to get rid
of the hapless Gloucester. The play gives a little cause for faith in human
nature, with the ruler-insiders no better than the vacillating populace
outside.
It’s a surprise, therefore, how much tenderness Kowalczuk and
Lee manage to convey in the love relationship between Margaret and Suffolk, and
as played, no wonder their affair is common knowledge among the people.
Lee, joyously villainous for most of the night, is free to
play other roles after a scruffy bunch of pirates take his head and throw it on
the stage. It's plainly a prop and there's no offence – it’s that kind of
production.
That gory moment gives Kowalczuk as Margaret a rare moment
to show weakness, devastated as she is by the loss of her lover.
By the end, Silverman, now playing the ambitious York, dons the
Crown, although as in any good Netflix series, that’s up in the air, leaving us
asking, what's the next twist in the plot?
Presumably Sekuless will show us that next year, but just as
a hint, she’s pinched the opening Iine from a much more famous play and given
it to Lee, who resurfaces as a young Dicky, soon enough to be Richard III.
“Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by
this sun of York,” he says—Curtain and blackout.
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