Pride and Prejudice* (*sort of)

by Isobel McArthur

seen at the Chichester Festival Theatre on 15 February 2025

Isobel McArthur directs a revival of her own irreverent adaptation of Pride and Prejudice featuring a cast of five actresses purporting to be 'the servants' narrating and acting out the story for us while occasionally being interrupted to perform their daily drudgery. (The programme lists eight actresses, but only five appeared on stage: perhaps there are rotations.)

It's an amusing variation on the perennial desire to adapt Jane Austen's novels, and in the wrong hands it could have all come unstuck. Happily we were in the right hands: the comedy is far broader (and often earthier) than anything Austen would have attempted, but the energy is fizzing and the seriousness beneath the satire still comes through, with convincing evocations of the attraction between Charles Bingley and Jane Bennett, and the far more complex dance of interest and repulsion between the proud Elizabeth Bennett and the prejudiced Fitzwilliam Darcy. There is also an intriguing and somewhat melancholic take on the career of Lizzie's friend Charlotte Lucas, who in this version marries the unctuous Mr Collins in despair of ever having her true feelings for Lizzie recognised by her oblivious friend.

With five actors taking all the parts there is plenty of opportunity for lightning costume changes (often a matter of swapping overcoats or shawls over all-purpose servants' dresses). The most clever is the minor adjustment to change from the engaging but dim Charles Bingley to his snobbish sister Caroline; the most brilliant is the transformation of one actress from the hysterical Mrs Bennett to the repressed Mr Darcy. In the meantime Mr Bennett is portrayed simply as a newspaper visible in a comfortable chair which always has its back to the audience: hysterically it proves possible to light a pipe for this non-presence. The device sacrifices some of Austen's best lines, but perfectly indicates the frustrating distance this father keeps from his whole family.

Spicing up the action and providing a brilliant commentary on proceedings is the liberal use of modern pop songs to underscore the narrative. Lizzie sings Carly Simon's "You're so Vain" to Mr Darcy, which perfectly sums up her initial reaction to his hauteur, while later in desperation he takes the microphone to sing the Partridge Family's classic "I Think I Love You!") to her. Meanwhile Mr Collins is more than happy to extol his patroness Lady Catherine de Burgh (suitably costumed) with a version of "Lady in Red", mischievously ascribed to a 'distant relative' of hers, one Chris de Burgh.

There's another sneaking anachronism when Mr Darcy first appears in Pemberley to the consternation of Lizzie and the delight of her aunt Gardiner: the servants are mystified that he appears to be quite dry. No-one can now resist a reference to the famous 1995 TV adaptation in which Colin Firth's Darcy appeared to Jennifer Ehle's Lizzie having just swum in Pemberley's lake.

Karaoke-singing servants, snappy narration, inspired impersonations, and wonderful high spirits: all in all a great entertainment.

Macbeth

by William Shakespeare

live performance from the Donmar Warehouse (2024) screened on 11 February 2025

A chance to revisit the excellent production directed last year by Max Webster featuring David Tennant as Macbeth and Cush Jumbo as Lady Macbeth, with a supporting cast refreshingly speaking almost universally with Scottish accents (except for the children Fleance, the young Macduff, and the young Siward).

In the auditorium the audience was provided with headphones to listen to the entire play, which was performed without an interval to maximise the ongoing tension. In the cinema we heard the text through the normal speaker system, but it remained intimate and happily devoid of the jarring effect of listening in a different medium to voices projecting for the stage. The eeriness of the encounters with the weird sisters, and Macbeth's terror at witnessing Banquo's ghost, remained powerful; indeed the soundscape in general transferred well.

There were some aspects of the production that I had forgotten, but which the camerawork reminded me of. In particular a generic young boy was occasionally visible throughout the play, though generally not on stage - the back wall could be opaque or transparent as the lighting changed. This pointed up the unresolved question of whether Macbeth had a son or not (the textual evidence seems contradictory on this point); or perhaps it signified that he was betraying his personal innocence by pursuing his ambition. This culminated in a brief moment when Macbeth held the boy, perhaps MacDuff's son, in his arms only to pass him on to a murderer; and later, in grappling with the young Siward, there was another embrace in which the king broke the boy's neck.

As in the production at the Almeida, it appeared that Lady Macbeth was discussing Macduff's absence with Lady Macduff (it is the thane Ross in the text); but the link to Lady Macbeth's mental distress so powerfully evoked at the Almeida, where she actually witnessed the massacre of the Macduff family, was not pursued here. 

I had also forgotten the updated speech of the porter, who knowingly engaged with the audience, making some disparaging remarks about London audiences (as perceived by those north of the border), and complaining that he didn't have headphones so he couldn't hear what was being said. This was a clever adaptation of a long speech which, though vital to the dramatic shape of the play, often runs the risk of being tedious for a modern audience, since its references are 'topical' to the sixteenth century rather than our own.

All in all, this was a fine opportunity to revisit an outstanding production of the play.

(See also my review of the Almeida production from October 2021, and a paragraph in the "seen in 2024" post, to see how differently the two directors approached this plays problems.)

Firebird

by Richard Hough

seen at the King's Head Theatre on 8 February 2025

Richard Hough's play is inspired by the film Firebird, and both play and film are based on Sergey Fetisov's memoir The Story of Roman. Owen Lewis directs Theo Walker as Pte. Sergey Serebrinnikov, Robert Eades as 2nd Lt. Roman Matvejev, Shorcha Kennedy as Luisa Jannsen, and Nigel Hastings as Col. Alexei Kuznetsov.

The play is more stripped down than the film, with the narrative altered to intensify and simplify the story, but the result is extremely effective, with less circumstantial detail to allow the piece to be performed by only four actors. The basic shape of the story, the illicit affair between Roman and Sergey, and Roman's divided loyalties (he marries Luisa), remains the same. The link to Stravinsky's Firebird is pointed by the use of feathers rather than flowers as social gifts at significant points, and by Roman's explanation that the firebird is desirable despite bringing bad luck as well as good luck to the one who finds it.

The King's Head theatre's been transformed since my last visit in 2022 to see a highly adapted version of La Bohème. Now, rather than being in the back room of the King's Head pub, it is in a larger space adapted in the basement of the building behind the pub, allowing for more acting and audience space and more sophisticated lighting and sound. This chamber version of Sergey's story was well suited to the space, employing versatile scene setting to propel the story from army barracks to a Moscow flat.

The danger threatening the two men, since homosexual affairs were illegal in the Soviet military, was perhaps less immediately felt than in the film: talked about rather than shown. However, the personal predicament triggered by Roman's decision to marry was brought to the fore, and the denouement remained poignant and guardedly hopeful.

The cast were excellent, the three young people believable friends despite their different ranks (Luisa is also in the military at the beginning of the play), and the older colonel a somewhat crusty but intriguingly humane presence in both their military and later civilian lives. Robert Eades's Roman was perhaps a little too declamatory for the space, but it suited the character's deflection of his feelings into military service.

 

A Man for All Seasons

by Robert Bolt

seen at the Chichester Festival Theatre on 1 February 2025

Jonathan Church directs Martin Shaw as Sir Thomas More in this revival of Robert Bolt's 1960 play, with Edward Bennett as Thomas Cromwell and Gary Wilmot as the Common Man.

The play concerns the last years of Thomas More's life, concentrating on his promotion to be Lord Chancellor after Cardinal Wolsey's downfall, and his subsequent crisis of conscience over the king's 'great matter' (his proposed divorce and remarriage), brought to a climax when king Henry VIII declares himself Supreme Head of the Church of England and requires his subjects to swear the Oath of Supremacy. More attempts to avoid the issue by maintaining a strict silence on the matter, relying on the king's assurances of protection given in earlier days, but he is ultimately condemned through the perjury of a witness, and inevitably executed.

The story is by now familiar after decades of exposure to Tudor politics in novels, films and TV series, and this version of it alone may possibly have encouraged the fashion, particularly when it was turned into a successful film starring Paul Scofield in 1966 (he had originated the role on stage). The exposition is important, however, and it is still salutary to hear the ringing words of conviction about religious faith, the importance of law, and the dangers of special pleading or of setting expediency above strict adherence to legal principle. Martin Shaw delivered the lines with power and conviction, ensuring that More's integrity remains utterly convincing, as it must for the play to work.

Gary Wilmot portrays the Common Man (not present in the film), a bridge between the high and mighty figures of Tudor politics and the modern audience; frequently he addresses the audience directly, providing both narrative details and some comic relief, while taking part in proceedings as servant, boatman, jailer, juryman, and finally executioner. It's a strange device, but a welcome contrast to the excessive high-mindedness of More's stand.

It is fascinating to see this play in the light of Hilary Mantel's trilogy of novels about Thomas Cromwell, and their stage and television adaptations, since in Wolf Hall Thomas More is by no means a sympathetic character; whereas here he is the hero of the piece, a man of utmost integrity brought down by the determination of others who are corruptible. The deviousness of Cromwell is perhaps tinged with knowledge of Mantel's portrait, rather than being simply villainous - but if anything this adds richness to the whole enterprise as it places More in a context of real people rather than cardboard figures. Interestingly also, More's own failings may now seem more obvious through our awareness that he could be characterised in a different way. His concern to protect his family by refusing to explain to them what he is doing is all very well in legal terms, but there is also a heartlessness there, and he is all too obviously the authoritarian patriarch in his household.

The revival was well worth seeing; the conflict of conscience and high politics has not gone away, even if it seems hardly possible in today's climate that such stands as More's would be so prominently taken.