It’s been a bit of roller-coaster ride at the Globe Theatre this year.Then their opening production of Romeo and Juliet, as directed by Daniel Kramer, was pretty much loathed by everyone including me. Next Rice’s own staging of Twelfth Night was much liked (unfortunately our critic, Andy Bewley, was taken ill half way through the press night so we didn’t get a review) and now Rice is back on typically barnstorming, crowd pleasing form with a revival of one of her greatest hits, Tristan & Yseult.
It was originally staged in a tent in Cornwall and there’s a sense of circus about it with a set that consists of ropes from which actors can swing and a platform that can be hoisted up and down. There’s a strong sense of clowning too.
It’s an ancient, simple and beautiful story that has inspired many interpretations including a Wagner opera. On this occasion writers Carl Grose and Anna Maria Murphy have set it in ancient Cornwall. A Cornish king dispatches a French envoy, Tristan, to fetch a girl, Yseult, loved by his vanquished enemy. Tristan and Yseult fall in love on the way back to Cornwall but as their love fades Yseult finds herself increasingly drawn to the king and must choose between the two men. Tristan returns home to France and waits, heartbroken for Yseult to run away and join him. I won’t spoil the ending for you but it’s truly compelling.
The company perform in modern dress and begin the evening as a chorus of the “unloved”. As events unfold they emerge from beneath their rain coats and thick framed glasses to take on the persona of the characters. When each fails to find romance they sadly retreat back into their drab “geek” clothes. Throughout the show these figures interject slapstick, funny comments and pop songs.
Dominic Marsh and Hannah Vassallo play Tristran & Yseult, both are charismatic and sexy and there’s a real electricity between them. There’s an engagingly jealous villain too but it’s Niall Ashdown who steals the show and our hearts when he plays Yseult’s female nurse, forced to be a stand in for her mistress during the king’s wedding night.
The opening line is “We are the unloved” and the audience “Ahhh” in sympathy. The second line, in response to this is, “don’t patronise us” and we laugh.
There were times when I wondered if we were the ones being patronised. When something emotionally or intellectually engaging happens it’s usually immediately dissipated with some clowning. It’s almost as if the production assumes we won’t have a good time unless they constantly tickle us. There are moments of pathos but they only run as deep as the flashes of cruelty or romance in a fairy story.
I think, however, that we can banish such concerns. There’s no denying that this is crowd pleasing romp that defies you not to have a good time. It’s laugh out loud funny, has the audience singing and dancing with joy and always fully engaged with skillful storytelling techniques.
It will equally please youngsters, tourists and those who don’t normally enjoy theatre. Only those of us who don’t need a gag every two minutes to hold their attention may leave a little unsatisfied.
The much loved and respected theatre director, Patrick Sandford turns writer and performer for a gentle hour of confessional drama in which he recounts the sexual abuse he endured as a child and how it has influenced his life since.