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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.
