Play Review 1

The Winter’s Tale at the Globe Theatre

Rating: **** (4 Stars)

What tone should a romance take? This is the perhaps the greatest challenge that comes with Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale. Productions often favor a monotoned five acts, featuring either the tension of tragedy or lightheartedness of comedy. However, director Blanche McIntyre— following her acclaim for The Writer— pulls both tones together at the Globe Theatre, staging a confrontational conversation between Sicily's near-tragedy and Bohemia's happy ending.

  

Most of the production's success stems from its focus on Shakespeare's language over theatrical spectacle. The costumes work to identify and contrast the two kingdoms. Immediately, the Moorish period dress in Sicily appears outdated next to the modern cruise-wear of Bohemia. The stage is stripped, save for a few minimalist props; a hemmed box for the oracle, a swaddled baby, and a table filled with feast add clarity to the plot. Unfortunately, the tacky bear tapestry hanging above the stage disappoints and confuses the famously-anticipated stage direction: “Exit, pursued by bear.” This decision distracts from the otherwise tight staging which emphasizes the body language between the characters. 

Before the intermission, the Sicilian court approaches the anger of their physically-trembling King Leontes (played by Will Keen). Keen’s performance balances genuine humanity with intense paranoia as he accuses his faithful queen of infidelity. His sudden shift from delight to marital mistrust is subtle and cautious. He hesitates to commit, assuming that his forming conspiracies are “too hot.” Then, almost all at once, the king’s tyranny disturbs the peace in a thunderous delivery. Leontes stirs like a storm throughout Sicily, as he stomps and paces in circles around the stage. However, Keen’s portrayal avoids heavy-handedness by evoking the perfect about of dry humor in his character’s inevitable intensity. 

Though Leontes has the most lines, the women are the real stars of McIntyre’s production. Hermione (played by Priyanga Burford) responds with a quiet forcefulness based in reason. Even on trial, her posture remains poised, her head high, and her digest for her husband delivered with a softened grace. However, the king’s conspiracy ultimately silences his queen’s logic as he approaches an Othello-like fate, marked by the death of their son, Mamillius (played by a delightfully boyish Rose Wardlaw).

Returning from intermission, in Bohemia is a juxtaposing playfulness which cuts the established gravity.  Autolycus (Becci Gemmell), a roguish vagabond with a pixie-cut, contributes welcomed comedy as she inserts herself in the high energy sheep-shearing festivities. Autolycus’s mischief demands attention as her mischief wanders through the yard crooning lyrics and pushing carts filled with colorful scams. 

Perdita, the lost heir (convincingly and faithfully played by Norah Lopez-Holden), is ironically unaware of her royal status, despite embodying her birth mother’s natural grace. Lopez-Holden’s posture holds the same poise, her head at the same height, and her lines delivered with the same grace as Burford. Through pointed smirks toward Florizel (played by Luke MacGregor) when apart, Perdita’s sincere infatuation speaks louder than any lines of their love. MacGregor’s grinning returns reflect the second side of this unspoken dialogue between the young couple. When they arrive in Sicily, the happy company of Bohemian wedding-goers crashes full speed into the aftermath of Leontes’ crimes, thus crashing McIntyre’s two tones together. 

Although her performance prior to intermission is strong, Sirine Saba (playing Paulina) in the climax proves that she is the backbone to McIntyre’s vision. As Hermione’s loyal lady, Saba’s powerful presence is a constant reminder of the flawed king’s failures. Her performance is fierce and unrelenting as she addresses the consequences of Leontes’ crimes, and beautifully orchestrates resolution. Hidden behind a curtain which stretches from ceiling to stage, she conceals Burford standing on a pedestal. She asserts that what she reveals is a statue, still wet “with oily paint.” She denies Leontes, stepping between Keen and Burford as the statue's limbs begin to shake with strain. When opening the final dance, Saba’s solo demands the entire range of Shakespeare's joys and sorrows in each fluid motion. A traditional Sicilian melody ascends to match the Saba’s rhythm as if she commands the music, and it answers.

This season’s production of The Winter’s Tale, performed at the Globe Theatre, is a must-see portrait of the human experience. McIntyre does not shy away from the complexity of the play’s plot but weaves tragedy with comedy in a brilliant rendition of Shakespeare’s written word.

The Winter’s Tale runs until the 14 October 2018 at the Globe Theatre. Tickets start at £5.