Cymbeline
Brendan
O’Hea directs this NYT production with assurance and flair, turning what is
considered by some to be one of Shakespeare’s late ‘problem’ plays into an atmospheric
production full of subtlety and humour that makes it accessible to all in this
tautly-trimmed version.
Based
on Celtic legends and a bit of borrowing from Boccacio’s Decameron
Shakespeare weaves a tale that is fraught with the fanciful and makes it a romantic
tragi-comedy. It is a play that echoes
earlier characters and themes of innocence and jealousy: Cymbeline, King of
England, furious on discovering that his daughter Imogen has secretly married
her childhood friend and first love, Posthumus, banishes the new groom, thus
setting in motion a steadily darkening tale of betrayal, murder and mistaken
identity.
This
highly charged production has a unity rarely seen; with its simple set
of plain drapes and a cracked floor design that works well as both pavé and
dried mud, a superbly creative lighting plot, designed by Adrian Barnes,
including shadow projections, and the addition of subtle sound effects, created
by Andy Whyment, we are transported effortlessly from the English court to the
Italian and to fields and caves in deepest Wales.
The
costumes, best described as post-Jacobean hippy (knee breeches and sheepskin
body warmers for the men), work well, whilst the use of red cloaks for the Roman
army is simple and effective. Composer Tristan Parkes and the actors doubling
as musicians are to be congratulated on two great interpretations of songs that
become poignant and powerful comments, not fillers! And Danny McGrath’s
choreography deserves a special mention, especially the battle scene near the
end, where, with the addition of light and sound, we are treated to an
energetic spectacle.
The
acting by this young cast is confident and engaging, Luke McEwan shows both the
strengths and weaknesses of the King whilst Catriona Cahill’s Queen, dressed in
black like an early incarnation of Cruella de Ville, is suitably calculating
and cold. Rosie Sansom shows subtlety in the later scenes although her Imogen is a
little too temper tantrum two-year-old rather than torrid teenager earlier on, which leads to a lack of show of any real love for Posthumus. However, Will
Edelston’s brilliantly conceived Cloten is a revelation, his superb timing and an
intuitive appreciation of the text making this a performance and name to
remember.
