In the lead up to the break out of the Wars of the Roses, the boy king Henry VI sits upon the thrown in a seething hyper-masculine environment where the governing principle is hunger for power. The male rivals manoeuvre their way closer and closer to the throne of a man who is neither very competent nor very desirous of his kingship. Swaggering egos of two dynasties turn to violence to ensure the protection of their interests in a markedly medieval, brutal and divided patriarchy. This is the history and the drift of Shakespeare’s text; this version of the play makes a controversial transformation, however, effecting a universal gender change, such that patriarchy is translated into matriarchy. The implications are fascinatingly explored in this new production.
The director has condensed the Henry VI trilogy into a one two hour performance with a re-proportioning of the various plot lines to give emphasis to the key gender concept. Of course, this concept could come across as a little tired and predictable- the whole gender stereotypes thing being something of a modern day obsession- however, the cast on the whole treads on the favourable side of the line between truthful reflection of the other gender and cliché. I was engaged by the subtle observation of the gesture and movement, which promises a multi-layered performance that brings often automatic mannerisms or the very basics of posture into the conscious sphere. Combining the Shakespearean story, which faces off against each other dangerously ambitious macho personalities, with a gender-swapping exercise has the audience actively considering the way one gender perceives and presents itself to the other. The world of the play gently disorientates a standard notion of the relations in politics and romance, and achieves this especially by careful thought given to the physical hierarchy on stage, to lend emphasis to a particular stage presence and subdue others.
The vision for the staging is distinctly pared down. A number of stone-coloured blocks will operate as ramparts, a tomb and platform for both the throne and the bonfire of Joan of Arc’s execution. Black costume with character name and dynasty affiliation emblazoned on will bring a Brechtian note and ensure concentration is firmly set on the power dynamics.
As already suggested, the acting was of a solid standard. Speech was naturalistic and conveyed appropriately domineering and manipulative attributes, with care given to pitch register for gender representation. With a little more detail to the psychology behind character (which is not an easy task when coupled with the gender-based challenges) and faster picking up of cues, both of which will no doubt develop as the rehearsal process reaches its final phase, I’m sure that this will be a polished and thought-provoking piece, well worth seeing.
