Theatre review: 1497 and all that
Richard IV, Northcott Theatre, Exeter
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.John Durnin, the director of the Northcott Theatre in Exeter, is particularly fond of a theatrical device called the Community Chorus. The Chorus, a group of 20 or so local citizens, ranging from mature adults to schoolchildren, are deployed as a background to dramatic events. They can form a small army, or a rebellion. They can mutter rhubarb to accompany a challenging peroration, or simply stand as a stark frieze signifying despair.
The Chorus is used intelligently throughout the production of Cathy Turner's new play, Richard IV, but their presence can hardly hold together this farrago of historical speculation, spoof scripting and dubious parallels with contemporary events.
There are several strands in this confusing story. The first is the assumption that a discovery in local records of fragments of an unearthed Shakespeare play fits in with the playwright's historical canon. This is pursued by screened TV interviews with "experts", and vox pop interviews with the "audience", in the interval. Central story of the play, and the spoof play, is the Cornish uprising that followed Perkin Warbeck, the pretender to the throne, who landed in Whitesand Bay in 1497. The Cornish, whose tax revolt march on London had been beaten off a few years earlier, were bristling with anger against fines that now accompanied the taxes. Turner equates this mood with the hatred of the Tories at the time of the May election, when Blair, like Warbeck, represented all things to all men.
The contemporary references are slight, although the end curtain reveals, incongruously, the construction of a new fishing vessel, as a sort of a phoenix of the nearly defunct Cornish fishing industry. The main part of the action is taken up with the impact of Warbeck on the Royal households of Lancaster, York and Scotland, in a series of portentous monologues and set scenes which, frankly, are hard to keep in context. Warbeck wallows in his self-delusion and the other characters wallow in his confusion. The King of Hearts phrase also has a contemporary tinkle.
The best scenes belong to the Chorus, especially the early rebellion, led by the always reliable Steve Bennett as the chief rabble rouser. The idea of Warbeck as a fashion model for a tailor being so splendidly dressed that he could pass for royalty is amusing, (so much for make-overs) but, overall, Richard IV needs to go back to the shipyard repair shop for a complete overhaul.
To 22 Nov (01392 493493)
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments