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ventaIn attempt to become cultured, we trundled up to Stratford yesterday to see Henry VI, Part 3. And anyone else who's not yet 30 should take note: you can get free tickets for any of Henry VI's Parts throughout July and August.
Other than my somewhat flimsy memories of third year history lessons on the Wars of the Roses, I had very little clue what happened in the play. It opens with a huge cast of warring lords, all attached to shifting factional alliances. However, it becomes increasingly easy to keep track as everyone dies, and by close of play there are only about three and a half characters left standing.
The guy playing Henry VI seemed a bit wet, actually (yes, I know he's meant to be a bit wet. But he was wet at being wet, if you see what I mean). I had assumed that Henry VI would be the "main" part (as Hamlet is in Hamlet, etc) but actually he's a limp foil for the ambitious plans of his Queen, of the Earl of Warwick (of Kingmaker fame)[*], and of the successive Dukes of York. A quick shuffle around on Wikipedia this morning suggests that this, at least, is reasonably historically accurate. I liked the casting of these - Warwick, in particular, was a huge, imposing black guy with a shaved head who you could really believe would change his alliance because his honour had been slighted.
The scenery was fairly minimal, consisting of nothing but a set of enormous, clanging iron doors (through which, incidentally, a red-robed gentleman ushered all the corpses. Which was fortunate, since we'd have been hip-deep in bodies by the middle of Act II). The actors entered and exited mainly through the audience (and I was amused to note on leaving that there was a make-shift make-up point behind the seats, where actors could touch-up if they weren't suitably bloodstained. In addition to a couple of slabs of pancake, there was a large container of fake blood and some brushes.) Battles raged round the theatre, lords proclaimed their loyalty to different houses from all over the circle. At one point, ropes dropped from the flies and the battle went 3D, with soldiers swinging, climbing and even tumbling (arialist-style) among the ropes.
The Courtyard Theatre in Stratford is, apparently, a temporary home while the main theatre is revamped. It has a huge apron stage, with the audience very nearly in the round, meaning that you are much closer to the action than you were at the old theatre. Having previous seen plays from the gods in the old theatre, I'd never realised quite how spittal-strewn Shakespeare is.
I think this is the first time I've seen a Shakespeare play which wasn't a comedy. I was fearing that it was going to be long (it was), turgid (it wasn't), full of soliloquy (not that much) and extravagant death scenes (ok, it was, but they were fine in context). I actually rather enjoyed it. If anyone is under 30 and within striking distance of Stratford, then get yourself over there.
I just don't want the RSC's laundry bill. They've got a lot of fake blood to get out of the costumes between now and the next showing. Really, in case I haven't emphasised it enough already: blood. Gore. Death. Torture. More blood.
[*] Breakfast television is the most important decision he's made in the last decade.
Other than my somewhat flimsy memories of third year history lessons on the Wars of the Roses, I had very little clue what happened in the play. It opens with a huge cast of warring lords, all attached to shifting factional alliances. However, it becomes increasingly easy to keep track as everyone dies, and by close of play there are only about three and a half characters left standing.
The guy playing Henry VI seemed a bit wet, actually (yes, I know he's meant to be a bit wet. But he was wet at being wet, if you see what I mean). I had assumed that Henry VI would be the "main" part (as Hamlet is in Hamlet, etc) but actually he's a limp foil for the ambitious plans of his Queen, of the Earl of Warwick (of Kingmaker fame)[*], and of the successive Dukes of York. A quick shuffle around on Wikipedia this morning suggests that this, at least, is reasonably historically accurate. I liked the casting of these - Warwick, in particular, was a huge, imposing black guy with a shaved head who you could really believe would change his alliance because his honour had been slighted.
The scenery was fairly minimal, consisting of nothing but a set of enormous, clanging iron doors (through which, incidentally, a red-robed gentleman ushered all the corpses. Which was fortunate, since we'd have been hip-deep in bodies by the middle of Act II). The actors entered and exited mainly through the audience (and I was amused to note on leaving that there was a make-shift make-up point behind the seats, where actors could touch-up if they weren't suitably bloodstained. In addition to a couple of slabs of pancake, there was a large container of fake blood and some brushes.) Battles raged round the theatre, lords proclaimed their loyalty to different houses from all over the circle. At one point, ropes dropped from the flies and the battle went 3D, with soldiers swinging, climbing and even tumbling (arialist-style) among the ropes.
The Courtyard Theatre in Stratford is, apparently, a temporary home while the main theatre is revamped. It has a huge apron stage, with the audience very nearly in the round, meaning that you are much closer to the action than you were at the old theatre. Having previous seen plays from the gods in the old theatre, I'd never realised quite how spittal-strewn Shakespeare is.
I think this is the first time I've seen a Shakespeare play which wasn't a comedy. I was fearing that it was going to be long (it was), turgid (it wasn't), full of soliloquy (not that much) and extravagant death scenes (ok, it was, but they were fine in context). I actually rather enjoyed it. If anyone is under 30 and within striking distance of Stratford, then get yourself over there.
I just don't want the RSC's laundry bill. They've got a lot of fake blood to get out of the costumes between now and the next showing. Really, in case I haven't emphasised it enough already: blood. Gore. Death. Torture. More blood.
[*] Breakfast television is the most important decision he's made in the last decade.
