Although, theoretically, it has the entire Shakespeare canon at its disposal, in practical terms there are only a handful of these plays that the Royal Shakespeare Company can stage with any regularity if it is to maintain a hope of selling a viable number of tickets in the august Royal Shakespeare Theatre.
Henry VI Part Two, for example, is never going to be a stand-alone box office draw. As You Like It, that delightful bucolic unfurling of love away from the confines of conflict and court, is one of the RSC’s surefire bankers – and herein lies the hidden peril for theatre directors determined to make their mark by doing something different with the play. Have they truly got a fresh new take to offer, or are they tinkering for tinkering’s sake?
Omar Elerian’s disappointingly disembodied production thuds firmly into the latter category. Actor Michael Bertenshaw tells us in an informal prologue that most of the cast, who are performers past the age of 70, were in a 1978 production of this very play. Their aim is to recreate it now… and that’s it. No further justification or explanation is proffered, as they start a dull and lifeless rendition of this most playful of comedies.
Those not already intimately familiar with the piece will alternately be bewildered and bored rigid; watching this purgatorial production, it is impossible to comprehend that the simmering sexual tension – not to mention gender confusion – between Rosalind (Geraldine James) and Orlando (Malcom Sinclair) is what gives the play its mainline of momentum. In recent years there have been productions of Much Ado About Nothing that have fruitfully reconfigured Beatrice and Benedick as a pair of older lovers, but Elerian presents no hint of any such profundity here. For example is James, who is 72, meant to be playing Rosalind as a teenager? It’s unclear; the thinking surrounding this reading is nebulous and woolly.
One small positive: there is some lovely verse speaking from these older actors, in particular James, who is far too good for this unholy muddle, and Robin Soans as a fierce Duke Frederick and kindly Duke Senior. James Hayes has fun as a richly sardonic Touchstone, but his adlibs – “I don’t know what that means,” he says after one of his lines – are in danger of overpowering Shakespeare’s text itself.
There is a deliberate rehearsal room feel to the production, as the actors sit around in casual clothes while waiting for their scenes. Yet gradually most of the resting ensemble leaves the playing area. Have they gone for a sensible snooze backstage while this limps interminably onwards, I wondered? Or have they quite simply bored themselves to death? The RSC can do, must do – and surely will do, under new artistic directors Daniel Evans and Tamara Harvey – much better than this.
To 5 Aug (01789 331111, rsc.org.uk)
