“the performances are unrushed and powerfully moving”
From the very opening we realise that this is a ‘Cherry Orchard’ with a difference. As part of a series of classic plays relevant to today, Phil Willmott’s adaptation is set in 1917 amidst the Bolshevik uprising, the murder of the Tsar and the uncertain future of the middle classes; it is almost fast-forwarding to the consequences Chekhov hinted at when he wrote it in 1903. Ranyevskaya returns to Russia after five years in France and faces the prospect of having to sell her beloved family home to the son of a serf who had worked for them. To heighten the immediacy and urgency felt in modern Russia, features like music and magic have been left out, avoiding any slackening of pace, the compact stage area concentrates the action, and the outcome of the play fits the confusion of both then and now. To add to the unpredictability, the role of the elderly footman Fiers has been cut, due to a fall suffered by the actor, Robert Donald. ‘Cherry Orchard’ is a play which revolves around memories in times of change so Fiers’ absence means missing the richness of the most distant past but with it more focus on the present.
Far from the lofty grandeur of larger stages, Justin Williams and Jonny Rust cleverly create faded opulence with the simple use of stairs and significant props. The lighting by Sam Waddington dresses the changes of mood and atmosphere, and the music and sound (Theo Holloway) are imaginatively designed to both set the scene and underline key moments of drama, though the sinister rumbling of the overhead trains is presumably unplanned. Penn O’Gara’s attention to detail of the costumes adds dimension to the personalities.
The individuality and ensemble of the actors is perfectly crafted. Each one’s complexity interlocking with the others to bring an array of emotions. Suanne Braun and Richard Gibson are excellent as the aristocrat Ranyevskaya and her brother Gaev, instilling huge sympathy despite their superficial, frivolous lives. Lopakhin, played by Christopher Laishley, portrays the strength of the rising middle classes but painful awareness of his roots. Dunyasha (Molly Crookes) and Yasha (Hugo Nicholson) represent the servants, breaking away from the past constraints of their position with a confidence and ease in several entertaining scenes. Even the smaller role of Madame Pishchik (a male landowner in the original) played by Caroline Wildi, is a subtly uncomfortable presence on stage, as a further reminder of the plight of the rich. Daughter Anya and former tutor Trofimov (Lucy Menzies and Feliks Mathur) radiate the youthful optimism as the country trembles with uncertainty.
As Director, Phil Willmott succeeds in producing a disquieting ‘Cherry Orchard’, stepping away from the traditional, more static Chekhov and connecting with today’s social climate in Russia. Apart from a couple of instances where the tension is broken precipitately, the performances are unrushed and powerfully moving, maintaining the farcical tragedy. In keeping with element of the unforeseen, the intentional changes to the script combine with the unexpected loss of Fiers to make this a brave and intelligent production, deserving credit for reawakening a classic to new interpretation.
“unquestionably – in style, in subject, and intention – a revelation, if not quite revolutionary”
Under the railway arches in Southwark, across the river from the Royal Opera House where “Carmen” is currently running, a very different take on the famous story is taking place. This is the second of the Union Theatre’s 2018 Essential Classics series, presented by the Phil Willmott Company. “Carmen 1808” draws more from the original novella by Prosper Mérimée, yet retains the inimitable tunes from Bizet’s score. A further dimension is added by transposing the narrative into the Peninsular War and the Spanish uprisings against Napoleon.
The starting point is Goya’s painting, ‘The Third of May 1808’, and it is the artist’s vision of the horrors of war that pervades the evening. The starting point is also Goya himself who, as protagonist, watches, paints and comments on the action that leads to the horrifying climax that becomes his canvas. It is a device that is inspired, inventive and ingenious in equal measure.
Condensed into one act running at just over ninety minutes it is an extremely accessible production. There are no pretensions, nor grandiose rhetoric here; it is Musical Theatre. But it is Musical Theatre at its best. Once one has adjusted to hearing different words to the well-known arias, one can savour the flair of Willmott’s lyricism and Teddy Clements’ musical arrangements. The piano is the only prop, but with Clements at the keys and his musical direction of a uniformly strong cast it sounds symphonic at times.
Carmen is a gypsy freedom fighter, adept at seducing low-ranking enemy soldiers to learn military secrets and relaying them to the Resistance. Rachel Lea-Gray gets the mix of earthy pragmatism and fiery seductiveness down to a tee. She plays with the emotions of Captain Verlarde (Maximilian Marston) and Corporal Luis (Thomas Mitchells), two Spanish military commanders battling for her affections. That these two characters represent the original story’s glamorous matador, Escamillo and naïve soldier, Don José respectively is unimportant. The story has the strength to stand by itself. In fact, this staging is perhaps even more appealing to those coming to it fresh, without any knowledge of Bizet’s opera.
Carmen holds court over a group of Spanish resistance fighters, led by Blair Gibson’s scholarly Javier. With a seventeen strong cast the Union’s space is in danger of becoming cluttered, but Adam Haigh’s choreography is as tight as clockwork. Up close the effect is compelling. The pace hits the right tempo throughout as the music weaves between the dialogue. There are a couple of rare, clunky colloquialisms that pop up in the text, but these are swiftly forgotten and they do not succeed in tripping up the flow of the action. Each performer drives their character with a white-knuckled commitment that draws us in and along for the ride.
And so it ends with the painting too. It gives nothing of the story away to reveal that the final scene is a near perfect tableau of Goya’s artwork. The final line is given to Alexander Barria’s Goya himself as he steps out of the action and looks at his creation. What he has witnessed, he reveals, is the trigger for his descent into madness and despair. Not so for the audience, however. Despite the grim epigraph, the dynamism of the cast leaves us in a truly upbeat frame of mind.
Goya’s “The Third of May 1808” has been described by art historians as possibly “the first great picture which can be called revolutionary in every sense of the word, in style, in subject, and in intention”. Although it would be perhaps too grand to describe this interpretation with equal fervour, it is unquestionably – in style, in subject, and intention – a revelation, if not quite revolutionary. This is a show for everyone, and I urge everyone to see it, before the run ends. Although I’m sure that won’t be the end of the road. This musical has to either extend or transfer to a larger space.
