Postcards from RSC's King and Country in Shanghai

Nee Hao WhatsOnStage,

I was watching a story about China on the news in the river room in Stratford-Upon-Avon when Mateen, a security guard at the theatre, commented "You might fit in over there". He was referencing my wig in Henry V, a Dora the Explorer come Jessie J come He-Man affair (the last comparison tacked on for the benefit of my ego), which isn't an un-popular female Chinese haircut. I was doubtful of his assertion.

Months later, on the bus from Shanghai airport to the hotel the first thing that I noticed was neon. Whether it be advertising or just office block lights, contributing to a gargantuan LED pattern of hummingbirds sipping from cherry blossoms or waves crashing over turtles. Even trees are not exempt from the performance. Wrapped in squid tentacle like tube lighting, pulsing all the primary colours around their trunks, they play their part.

The second thing that became obvious is that westerners are widely accepted as gullible. Our first evening of venturing out had us heading to the French Concession. We were told this was one of the only areas left whose architecture hadn't been translated during Shanghai's 1920's western boom. A taxi driver was only too happy to oblige us. It seemed a fortunate find for both parties; we were a large group, he had a van. Once inside the van, the eight of us came to the slow conclusion that his fervent hospitality may have been a way of disguising the fact that this van comfortably seated four and with a squeeze would seat six. The price seemed alright though; one hundred yuan (equal to £10). The two taxis back for 12 yuan each (equal to £1.20) educated us further. Bartering is like a bit of friendly banter. You make each other laugh with offers until you come to an agreement and shake hands.

Arrival at the restaurant taught us our third lesson; we do not use enough of the duck in our culinary pursuits. Duck tongue is packaged and sold like pepperoni and a cheery cartoon duck grins at you and gives you a thumbs up from a Chicken Cottage style take-away that boasts fried duck feet, beak and neck. We instead enjoyed bullfrog and turtle then gagged down sea cucumber.

Enough tourism, now to the immense Shanghai Grand Theatre. After the minor glitch of an air conditioning unit leaking water on to an essential piece of lighting equipment we were off. A Shanghai audience is slightly livelier than their Beijing cousins. They are more eager to be vocal and less worried about using silence to show gratitude. Faces lit up by phone screens is something we of the Royal Shakespearean persuasion would normally take offence to, but if you take the time to look at the faces they seem to be excited, desperate to snap a picture to prove they were here.

The comedy is what surprises and delights our audience. The well-known tragedies of the whinging student from Denmark and the Scottish barren wife coupled with the intellectual loftiness associated with their translations have left them with preconceived notions that don't involve a whoring, boozy fat knight or the origin of the 'an Irishman, a Scotsman and a Welshman' joke. Challenging those preconceptions is definitely the most rewarding part of playing here. If I was ever going to 'fit in over there' wig or no, humour would be a good tool to start with… that and duck tongue.

Love from Robert Gilbert and the RSC King & Country Company