Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Shakespeare - The Man who Pays the Rent


 

ShakespeareThe Man who Pays the Rent by Judi Dench with Brendan O’Hea.  Penguin Michael Joseph, 2023 (imprint of Penguin Random House).

Illustrations by Judi Dench

Reviewed by Frank McKone

Brendan O’Hea begins his Introduction:

This was never meant to be a book.  My plan was to record Judi Dench talking about all the Shakespeare parts she has played and, with her blessing, to offer it to the archive department at Shakespeare’s Globe.  But when a friend of her grandson overheard one of our many discussions at her home in Surrey, and was intrigued to know what all the laughter, passion and arguing was about, it made me wonder if these interviews might have a wider appeal.


They certainly appeal to me in my role as theatre reviewer, one-time amateur actor/director and paid drama teacher.  That’s wide enough, I think, to pass on my enthusiasm to theatre practitioners and theatre-goers of all kinds.  Not just because Judi Dench is justifiably famous for being such a good actor, but because these interviews are funny and passionate – and especially explain acting in personal and practical ways.

Acting in Shakespeare’s plays may have paid Judi Dench’s rent, but we also come to see how the writing, directing and acting of his plays not only paid William’s rent (actually making him quite rich) but gave us a body of theatrical work that continues to be known worldwide for its universal understanding of human relationships – as relevant today as four hundred years ago.

Like me (born in December 1934, she’s barely 6 years older than me), Judi does “worry nowadays about actors being miked as I think it flattens everything out … and also there’s a danger that you hold back because you’re being artificially boosted – it can make you lazy.  Audiences need to see your mouth moving and your body breathing; if they can only hear your voice coming from a speaker twenty feet away, and there’s more than one person on stage, then who they hell do they look at?  How do they know who’s talking?

Hear, hear, I say, as I have to switch my phone back on during a show to readjust my hearing aids.  When I tried the ‘hearing loop’ system, voices came through clearly, but in two dimensions instead of three.  And I couldn’t hear the audience responses.  Getting this old doesn’t make life easy!

And I can’t get away with being a pontificating critic.  Brendan asks Jude, What is your view on critics?

Some I like, some I don’t, and some are friends.  But ultimately, it’s just one person’s opinion.  Caryl Brahms never liked anything I did.  She was vitriolic, and clearly allergic to me.  She’d always refer to me in her reviews as ‘Dench, J’, as if I was in the school play, or ‘little Miss Dench’.  She said I played Juliet ‘like an apple in a Warwickshire orchard’, whatever the hell that means – and that Rosalind Iden was much better in the part.  (Criticism I can deal with, but I loathe comparison.)

That was the 1960 Old Vic production “when the Artistic Director, Michael Benthall, offered me the part of Juliet.  Franco Zeffirelli was to be the director….  He had never directed a Shakespeare play before.  Franco didn’t reckon the poetry of it – he had no interest in the verse, or the rhythm, or the line endings, he worked purely on instinct.  But what he did bring to the production was a Mediterranean sensibility.  He instilled in us the heat and the passion and the sultriness of Verona.

63 years ago, and Judi Dench’s recall is as clear as a bell.  Just imagine being there!  Between my having done a staged Grammar School reading of Prince Hal in Henry IV (I was 12 and Hal was only 16); and seeing John Bell in 1964 when “he was a sensational Henry V, with Anna Volska as Katherine, in an innovative Adelaide Festival tent presentation. The Sydney Morning Herald called him ‘a possible Olivier of the future’”.  
https://liveperformance.com.au/hof-profile/john-bell-ao-am-obe
I remember my excitement on both occasions – especially when the Bell performers burst through past me in the audience and up on to the stage in the tent like the beginning of a great circus.

I wish I had Judi Dench’s memory for details and names – even just for the parts she’s played, in book order: MacbethLady Macbeth; A Midsummer Night’s DreamTitania, Hermia, First Fairy; Twelfth NightViola, Maria; The Merchant of VenicePortia; HamletOphelia, Gertrude; CoriolanusVolumnia; As You Like ItPhebe; Measure for MeasureIsabella; Much Ado About NothingBeatrice; King LearRegan, Cordelia and Goneril; The Comedy of ErrorsAdriana; Richard II Queen Isabel; Antony and Cleopatra Cleopatra; CymbelineImogen; All’s Well that Ends WellCountess of Roussillon; Henry VKatherine, Hostess; The Merry Wives of WindsorMistress Quickly, Anne Page; Richard IIIDuchess of York; The Winter’s TaleHermione, Perdita, Paulina, Time; Romeo and JulietJuliet.

Phew!  I didn’t even know some of these names.  And what an amazing array of women characters written by Shakespeare – so many of such great individual personal strength, who stand up for their rights and show so much more capability than most of the men in dealing with fraught, even life-threatening situations; and in times of passionate love – for a partner, or for a son or daughter.

Time after time, as you read a character’s lines in context with Dench’s recalling of how what she says fits into that part of the play, and why she says those words, or says nothing, or does some specific movement, or moves in the space – you find yourself seeing and hearing the performance happening; learning from this great actor how to create that role; realising how astute Judi Dench is in her own right; and absorbing the depth and quality of Shakepeare’s writing.

Yes, this book is a collection of Judi Dench’s practical responses to Brendan O’Hea’s questions, comments and sometimes argumentative points, including a stream of stories, both serious and humorous.  

Yet, it is also, as the equally famous Kenneth Branagh says, ‘A magical love letter to Shakespeare’, full of appreciation for what he achieved – with a powerful sense of purpose for theatre in the world today and in the future, even if it be as fractious as it was in Shakespeare’s time.  My copy was a wonderful surprise Christmas gift from my wife – but you don’t need to wait for a special occasion to give yourself or a loved one such stories as:

Taking a curtain call with a live snake in her wig…

Cavorting naked through the Warwickshire countryside painted green…

Acting opposite a child with a pumpkin on his head…

As the book cover says, “These are just a few of the things Dame Judi Dench has done in the name of Shakespeare.”

Enjoy!