Left – (l-r) Jack Hawkins, Laurence Spellman & company. Cover – (l-r) Jimmy Fairhurst, Lizzie Hopley, Laurence Spellman.One of the great things, if not THE great thing about Festival time is all the terrific international companies and artists you get touring their work out here, which, for many of us, we would never have the chance to see otherwise. And although I must confess I experienced an unbidden moment of parochialism while musing about whether this particular production by the widely-acclaimed company Cheek by Jowl was truly any more innovative or exciting than some of the best local renditions of similar texts, this is surely beside the point. Having the opportunity to take in the work of different companies with their own unique takes on the canon is always welcome, especially from a troupe that is renowned for doing exactly that.
I won’t speak at much length about the plot of the play itself due to its familiarity as a classic, albeit one that is certainly not performed as often as your average Shakespeare (although Melbournians had a production staged at the Malthouse last year). By the very nature of its subject matter this is a confronting play to be sure, and likely to always remain so. One might question the logic of why a play which depicts sibling incest should be considered so much more unpalatable than the rape, cannibalism and dismemberment in Titus Andronicus or the corpse-littered stage by the end of The Duchess of Malfi, and yet, frankly, it is.
Perhaps it says something about our overexposure to violent imagery, whereby sometimes even quite extreme violence can be considered acceptable entertainment in our society while many sexual taboos by comparison remain broadly verboten subjects. And, to be fair, it is hardly surprising in this case. As some of the promotional material for this production implies, incest is a topic which has lost little of its ability to shock, even after nearly four centuries. The particular strength, then, of John Ford’s play is that it certainly does not rest on the nature of the central taboo alone, but integrates it into a multilayered tragedy with compelling characters and a suitably intense, character-driven drama.
Cheek by Jowl’s production, directed by Declan Donnellan and designed by Nick Ormerod takes an approach that will be familiar to those that attend a lot of Shakespeare. A non-specifically modern setting with an unchanging set, brought to life with a highly theatricalised mode of staging, which incorporates a lot of non-diegetic action to represent and reinforce what is being spoken aloud. This energetic technique often serves to add an engaging sense of immediacy to what would be merely reported events and offstage characters in a more traditional performance, a kind of uniquely theatrical equivalent to the cinematic voice-over, smash-cut and split-screen.
Indeed, this fluid theatricality in the direction and dramaturgy is entirely matched by the zeal of the strong ensemble cast. The actors have a potent vitality in their use of the language while filling their roles with such an engaging surfeit of personality as to made these characters really come alive. Indeed, the performances fairly leapt off the stage, even in spite of the lousy press seats up in the circle reducing any facial nuances to indistinctly animate blobs.
Although nuance was not, perhaps, the highest priority for all involved. In the role of the wronged widow Hippolita we had a deliciously outrageous performance from Suzanne Burden, playing the vampy, histrionic part with a liberal dose of vengeful bunny-boiler to great effect, while Nyasha Hatendi also chewed the scenery rather delightfully as the fire-and-ice Friar Bonaventura, in way over his head amidst this moral turpitude.
Less stylised in delivery but just as engaging are Jack Hawkins’ portrayal of the emotional extremes of Soranzo and his rather Machiavellian servant Vasques, played with no small amount of relish by Laurence Spellman. These are characters who, like several in this play, cannot easily be pigeonholed as straightforward villains in spite of some fairly dastardly deeds, and are delivered with appropriate deftness.
Perhaps most “naturalistic” of all, if such a term can even remotely apply to a show like this, would be the performances of the central tragic couple. Jack Gordon plays Giovanni, a seemingly pleasant chap were it not for his being obsessively enamored with his unfortunately reciprocal sister Annabella, portrayed by Lydia Wilson. Needless to say, both actors have a considerable challenge in making their characters sympathetic enough for the audience to become involved in their plight yet hopefully without making you want to actually –ahem– root for them.
They have quite different character arcs as the narrative progresses, and contrasting attitudes towards questions of guilt and repentance for their sins, and although various events beyond their control transpire to make things worse, their fates are ultimately hinge on their own choices. Gordon, and especially Wilson, do a fine job of making the characters seem interesting and, perhaps most importantly, human, so that regardless of how inexcusable you will likely find their crime, when the play comes to its horrific conclusion it is difficult indeed not to feel some kind of pity for these characters.
This is an excellent, robust production of a powerful play, and an experience not to be missed for those seeking a riveting night of theatrical excellence.
Cheek by Jowl
'Tis Pity She's a Whore
by John Ford
Director Declan Donnellan
Venue: Sydney Theatre at Walsh Bay, Walsh Bay
Dates: January 17 – 21, 2012
Tickets: $89 – $79
Bookings: 1300 668 812
Presented by Sydney Festival in association with Sydney Theatre