“the enthusiasm of the performers is infectious and this is a great introduction to a less familiar play”
The opening scene of Theatre of Heaven and Hell’s production of Abducting Diana quickly lets slip that the actors aren’t taking it too seriously – and that the audience shouldn’t either. As a company, Theatre of Heaven and Hell specialise in quirky, forgotten plays from the absurdist genre – the sort that didn’t quite become cult favourites.
Although Abducting Diana is a satire, this production should not be looked to for scathing reflections on the rich and powerful; masks depicting the likenesses of controversial politicians feel like a token nod to relevance. Really, Theatre of Heaven and Hell is more interested in the absurdism of the whole debacle. When viewed less as a political commentary and more as a comic tale of increasingly extraordinary skulduggery, the joy that the performers are taking in their work breaks through weirdness of the play’s preposterous plot.
In order to tell this gleefully ridiculous tale, director Michael Ward makes full and ambitious use of the space available to him, and his direction mostly comes good. This really lends to the sense that anything can happen at any moment and blends well into the plot of rapidly reallocated loyalties and yo-yoing power dynamics.
The cast are effective in their roles, but, with a handful of stock characters and a constant game of hidden identities for everybody else, only Elena Clements has room to shine as the eponymous Diana. This feels like something of a weak spot in this production, as this leaves the audience struggling to identify with any of the characters on stage, especially as the plot reaches moments of heightened tension or peak silliness.
Overall, this is an ambitious and fun production. It is a little scant on depth, but the enthusiasm of the performers is infectious and this is a great introduction to a less familiar play.
“there was some reliance on background tomfoolery, which occasionally distracted from the plot”
Approaching one of Shakespeare’s most famous plays of all time is in itself a daunting prospect, but Red Squash Theatre have gone the extra mile to make their lives difficult; three actors take one hour to perform Macbeth and make it funny. The result is Macbeeth, a knowingly daft and irreverent take on a plot of witchcraft, betrayal and murder.
Despite the utter silliness, there are very few deviations from the original text, although, by necessity, it is highly and effectively condensed. The limitations of this challenge mode edition of a classic are tackled effectively and get a lot of the laughs; the actors have good fun with the constraints of playing multiple characters and lean on the fourth wall with a cordial grin. The gags are mostly hits and the performers, particularly Rory Fairbairn (who is credited to fourteen roles in this one production), are likeable and welcome the audience into their good-natured mayhem.
Unfortunately, the humour rarely derives from the text itself, and I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was watching a performance of the original tragedy with some gags thrown in. While the best jokes poked fun at the original play’s most well known soliloquies, many more were incidental and failed to feel at home against the original text; there was some reliance on background tomfoolery, which occasionally distracted from the plot, while the few sections that were played mostly straight felt out of place with them absent.
Nevertheless, Macbeeth responds to the core demands of the original play excellently and this was one of its delights. The murder of Duncan and the appearance of Banquo’s ghost in particular are handled in surprising and effective ways. Props are simple but used well and resonate with Red Squash Theatre’s minimalist approach, although at times the cardboard crowns and plastic daggers can run the risk of being naff.
Macbeeth is a breathless and gleefully childish romp that refuses to take Shakespeare too seriously. Its silliness, while throwaway, is often genuinely very funny, and the ambitious project of condensing five acts of Macbeth, without losing content, is realised successfully. However, Macbeeth suffers from the unfortunate, but predictable, consequence of trying to make a tragedy into a comedy with few editions to the original text; it doesn’t quite feel like one thing but doesn’t feel like the other, either.
Reviewed by Matthew Wild
Photography courtesy Red Squash Theatre
Macbeeth
is at the Hen & Chickens Theatre until 16th December
