Review: The Merchant of Venice
★★★★★
Five Stars
On first arrival, it was clear that this was going to be no average student production of Shakespeare. Worcester College looked gorgeous on a summer’s evening. A path traced out by tea-lights and fairy-lights led to a modest seating area facing a small pontoon-like stage extending a few metres over the lake, with Venetian gondolier mooring poles setting the scene, and musicians playing on a boat on the lake.
The return of the Buskins Shakespeare play on Worcester Lake is an exciting prospect in itself, as it boasts such a colourful history – in the 1949 production of The Tempest, the actor playing Ariel famously exited running across the lake (boarding was placed under the surface of the water). Entrances and exits on boats, wonderful costumes, atmospheric use of music, the professional energy of the ensemble, the wonderfully choreographed physical movement, both comedic and dramatic, culminating in a Shakespearian jig, all amounted to a delightful dramatic experience. Lucie Dawkins’s professional and creative direction shone through, and this production takes its place in an already impressive tradition.
Five stars does not necessarily mean perfection – every audience member will have their slight issues with a scene, or an actor, and first night nerves may account for the very occasional lack of spark at the beginning – but due to a universally energised and talented cast, and to the evidence of extraordinary direction, this play reaches the highest heights I’d have thought possible for a student production. Shakespeare is difficult to pull off brilliantly for untrained actors, but the majority of the cast struck a lovely balance between the heightened moments of poetry and emotion or farcical humour, and moments of subtle and naturalistic interplay.
Hannah Gliksten’s Portia is witty, charming and commanding. Barney Fishwick portrayed a bitter and abused Shylock, who both treats and is treated badly, allowing the audience to simultaneously rejoice for his defeat and sympathise with him. The relationship between Jessica (Amber Husain) and Lorenzo (Nathan Ellis) was nuanced and captivating – a great foil for the more conventional instances of Shakespearian love in the play. Richard Hill and Nick de Mulder, respectively playing the Princes of Arragon and Morocco, Portia’s horrendously unsuccessful suitors, are a comedic joy, as is Jack Sein as Launcelot Gobbo, all three idiosyncratically providing the belly laughs of the play.
Luke Howarth as Old Gobbo and later the Duke of Venice was an unexpected personal favourite, doing much with quite little – he displayed great talent in playing the old blind man with wonderful physical comedic timing and characterisation, and then similarly excelled as the Duke in the courtroom, giving the scene believable gravitas. Also, watch out for Constance Greenfield’s wordless and subtle but often hilarious reactions as she gives Nerissa wit and charisma.
There is so much more to rave about in this play, but I don’t have the space. Go and find out for yourself. There are tickets left on the door every night, so if you haven’t booked, do not despair. Do all you can not to miss this production.
We must tackle alienation in those vulnerable to extremism
The murder of Drummer Lee Rigby has raised a lot of uncomfortable questions over the past week or so. The perennial issue that always rears its head is the apparent failure of a significant minority of British Muslims to ‘integrate’, whatever that might mean. The trouble is that we are faced with an apparently unresolvable dichotomy. I despise the EDL. Britain has always been adept at integration; we have a long and proud history of being a nation of immigrants. The EDL message that Islam is intrinsically a threat to the United Kingdom is anathema to our dearest liberal values. Yet at the same time, it is impossible to deny that the barbarians that murdered Rigby were devout Muslims. The understandable method in which the government and Muslim communities have attempted to defuse the situation is by claiming that these men were not ‘true’ Muslims. Understandable, but wrong.
Islam, like all faiths, has the potential to inspire violence. I am not a theologian so I am only vaguely aware that the passages of the Hadith and the Qur’an that appear belligerent have been misconstrued. However, that interpretation is not clear to all, and certainly in the hands of a radical imam with an absence of scruples the Holy Book has the potential to be misused for some quite unholy purposes. The problem with saying that this attack had nothing to do with Islam is that it feeds the EDL’s victim complex. It encourages them to believe that the Establishment really is engaged in a conspiracy to destroy ‘Englishness’ for vague nefarious reasons.
British Muslims are not murdering British soldiers on the streets. None of them are contributing to Britain’s already burgeoning arms trade by manufacturing car bombs and suicide vests in their garage à la Walter White. The Muslims of York Mosque adopted the most perfectly British attitude to an inflammatory EDL rally by inviting them in for tea and biscuits so they could have a chat and sort the whole thing out. This is what is so disgusting about the EDL message. The vast majority of Muslims are integrated, and certainly more British in outlook than the despicably intolerant extremist groups who want to force them to leave the country. A vast majority, however large, is not the same as all. How do we avoid the dichotomy which I set out earlier? How do we explain that the EDL is wrong in the context of how peaceful most of Britain’s Muslims are, whilst still accepting that there are some individuals who are inspired to violence, actual or attempted, by the same ideology that drives others to peace?
An imam in Oxford has caused controversy by suggesting that it was British foreign policy that led to the atrocity in Woolwich. We shall leave aside all the problematic implications that this has for now. We can grudgingly accept that some people are motivated to terrorism because of the Iraq War. It is, after all, the explanation that the extremists themselves gave. However, to focus on the Iraq war as the imam did is a very dangerous move to make, even if it is a motivating factor, without further qualification. These men were Nigerian in origin, and had nothing in common with the Iraqis save their faith. If we are to argue that a Muslim from a country hundreds of miles away from Iraq can be motivated to murder based on what he perceives as an injustice done to people similar in faith only, then we basically imply that Islam is a “fifth column” — that we can never be quite sure to trust Muslims because they will always put matters of faith before their local community. The Muslims who invited the EDL for tea were certainly interested in the fate of their communities. To suspect that at any time they might be working surreptitiously to establish a universal Caliphate is reprehensible.
This allows us to resolve the dilemma. Islam was a banner for these attacks, not a cause. These men fundamentally lacked an identity. Whatever preacher latched on to them, for all his moral odiousness, gave them an identity. This is really no different from the KKK in the United States preying on the socially dispossessed, and persuading them that their problems can all be blamed on the blacks and the Jews. The difference between the Muslims that invited the EDL in for tea and the extremists who invited an increase in EDL membership is that the British Muslims have communal ties, and to be a British Muslim is meaningful. For the extremist, all they have to define them is an idea. If we all take steps towards reducing social exclusion, this would not just reduce the threat of Islamic extremism. It would also reduce the numbers of otherwise socially excluded people who actually make up the ranks of the EDL.
Fashion in Film
Is it possible to separate characters in films from their wardrobes? Here Cherwell takes you through films with an emphasis on style, investigating the metaphorical significance of what characters wear can have, and the general portrayal of style in the film industry.
With wealth and luxury being the chief themes of The Great Gatsby, the costumes add a visible dimension to the divide between old and new money. Daisy Buchanan’s 20s style, with her cropped hairstyle, extravagant jewellery and gowns, makes patent her wealth and capacity to express her love of beautiful things. There are references to Gatsby’s ostentatious pink suits as signs that he tries hard to impress through his money. As Gatsby showers Daisy with his many shirts, it is a colourful reminder of the efforts to which he has gone to fit in and display his riches. Mrs Wilson’s gaudy costumes show a less tasteful style, mirroring what we learn of her lifestyle. The red fishnet tights and figure-hugging dresses of Buchanan’s mistress compared with his wife’s pale silks form a visual reflection of the contrast between their personalities.
In 27 Dresses the main character’s unfeasibly large collection of bridesmaids’ dresses is a metaphor for her emotional baggage. Whilst the images of her trying on all the dresses and reliving the weddings are undeniably funny, we are still reminded by the physical presence of vast amounts of silk ruffles that she has an emotional problem with moving on.
Pretty In Pink’s main character Andie Walsh’s self-expression is usually centred on her choice of outfit, and she has no fear about breaking free of the style which clamps her fellow classmates into a world of pale sweaters and big, flowing hair. She is a perfect visual contrast to her peers, and this juxtaposition mirrors her personality; the references people make when criticising her outfits for being cheap or wacky are in fact barbed insults about her family background. Andie is unperturbed, and the final scenes of her stunning homemade prom dress are a symbol of liberation.
Other films have fashion embedded in their plots. The Devil Wears Prada gives Vogue-addicted style stalkers the opportunity to indulge their passions in a sea of designer clothing. The shots of the heroine travelling to work in about twenty different outfits gives condensed inspiration to a fashion junkie, but in all the film is centred around what is appropriate and acceptable to wear. A different film exploring the boundaries of fashion is Mean Girls, where Regina George’s imposed laws – such as only being allowed to wear pink on Wednesday or a ponytail once a week – are a more light-hearted version, poking fun at rigid style diktats.
Screen style is nothing new. Les Parapluies de Cherbourg isa French film from the 1960s with Catherine Deneuve starring as Genevieve, a young girl who somehow, working as an assistant in her mother’s umbrella shop, can afford the most exquisite garments. Think pale pinks and blues, pretty shift dresses and simple yet chic hairstyles, and a beautiful beige mac which she wears with youthful insouciance as she flits around the streets of Cherbourg. The detailed paid to her fashion, along with her mother’s wardrobe, gives a finesse to the look of the film. Designed to look good, Les Parapluies demanded the most stunning array of clothes in order to achieve its goal of beauty, and costume designer Jacqueline Moreau, who worked on many films, operas and plays, crafted a simply wonderful wardrobe.
As visual media firmly connected with the zeitgeist, both following and leading trends, it is unsurprising that fashion and film are closely linked. Wardrobe choices can define characters just as much as any other aspect of production, and indeed fashion can be the greatest sphere of influence for a film, as the many blogs promising to help visitors achieve Daisy Buchanan’s style, for example, make obvious.
Hip Hop is still a mantle for misogyny
Have you ever listened to the lyrics of Mystikal’s ‘Shake ya ass’? For the uninitiated, it is a song that can cause even the most ardent feminist to become a frenzied bacchanal on the dance floor. But, “shake ya ass, show me what you workin with. I came here with my d*ck in my hand. Don’t make me leave here with my foot in yo’ ass”, hardly alludes to someone who believes in gender equality. And Mystikal, a word of advice: you may be hankering for some action but at least hold something a little less conspicuous. A glass of champagne p’haps?
It is all too easy to dismiss these disturbing lyrics with the trite excuse that it’s ‘just hip-hop. After all, rap music and hip-hop have long been mired in controversy for their blatant misogyny, which emerged in the 90s, when lyrics that trafficked purely in lewd language flourished into a hip-hop sub-genre. Yet songs laced with crude and brutal expressions of sexism shows no sign of budging. Juelz Santana’s “There It Go (The Whistle Song),” was a chart hit that is as close to a street harassment anthem as a song can come, with lyrics like “move your thang/there it go/I don’t need to ask I proceed to grab“. Such lyrics are as indefensible as those songs which spew vulgarities “Imma beat dat p*ssy up” and implore women to ‘bend over’.
Vulgar glorification of pimping and female-ownership hasn’t prevented artists such as Snoop Dogg and Ice T from gaining mainstream acceptance. Snoop Dogg is, after all, a man who has walked women in dog chains and dog collars across concert stages and spouted lyrics, which explicitly advocate violence against women. “Can U Control Yo Hoe“, isfull of some real clangers: “You’ve got to put that bitch in her place/Even if it’s slapping her in her face … This is what you force me to do.” And yet such raw misogyny is overlooked by his apparently colourful charisma and quirky dress sense.
Chris Brown is one of the best examples of this “cultural amnesia”. Having violently abused his girlfriend, Rihanna, to the extent that she had to be hospitalised, he is now not only considered musically relevant, but has also subsequently won an MTV Music Award, and has a sold-out tour. Most worrying of all, a large proportion of Brown’s fan base are teenage girls, who, during his Grammy performance, sent tweets out to the tune of: “I’d let Chris Brown beat me up any day”. Despite the fact that he’s purring that, “No is not an option. Are you ready, I’m a take what’s mine”.
Consider the gross double standards. Eminem was pressurised to apologise for his homophobic lyrics. And so he should be. How, then, can we allow misogynistic lyrics to be treated differently? All the bass in the world cannot disguise Tyler’s disgusting message, from ‘The Creator’: “We go skate, rape sluts and eat donuts from Randy”. Songs such as these subscribe men to a distorted guideline of how to measure their masculinity. They propagate the myth of women as a monolith: a sex object that can be used and abused in any form to satisfy the sexual desires of a man. When men are taught that sex is a commodity, and women are taught that it’s an emotional experience, you’re not going to end up with a functional market or indeed a set of norms for establishing relationships. Instead, you have a recipe for anger and entitlement.
Undoubtedly music fuels misogynistic attitudes by contributing to the belief that women’s bodies should be sexually available, but it does not create that perception alone. It begs the question, then: why do musicians around the world feel confident that audiences will sing along to lyrics that demean women? The sentiments behind that music do not exist in a vacuum. They thrive in religious texts, the lack of female legal protections, daily street harassment and social attitudes towards women.
Of course, rappers are not the only proponents of misogyny in popular culture. They are far from the first. The music industry has been saturated with a sprawling jungle of misogynistic imagery, from country musicians bemoaning a “no good woman” to craggy faced rock stars boasting of their latest conquest.
Rap and hip-hop music are, in principle, forms of oppositional culture that offers a message of resistance, empowerment, and social critique. But this intentionally avoids analysis of explicitly misogynist and sexist lyrics. To overlook the lyrical content is like eating a sandwich without the filling. Granted, gangsta rap is all about bravado, self-regard, macho posturing and, tenuously, fun. But that does not excuse the content. It is, in many cases, simply a mantle for misogyny.
Review: The Bacchae
★★★★☆
Four Stars
You might well be justified in asking what better theatrical treat there could be than a bit of Greek tragedy in the form of a new translation of Euripides’ Bacchae. The inevitable answer is a bit of Greek tragedy (indeed, almost tragi-comedy since the tragic and the hilarious are knitted together so seamlessly) showcased to its real advantage in New College’s beautiful gardens.
New translation I hear you question- surely not another tiresome adaptation to a “modern day context”? No, David Raeburn’s translation is utterly faithful to the spirit of the original and achieves a timeless idiom. The tragic is indeed harrowing – Dionysus, enraged at having his divinity denied by the Thebans, including their ruthless king, decides to send the women mad (as you do…), including the king Pentheus’ mother Agave, who ends up ripping her son’s head off thinking he is a wild beast. On the other hand, the script’s moods are multiple, having its fair share of double entendre and comic interchange, notably at the start between the two old men Tiresias and Cadmus, both of whom have a decidedly surreal appearance – tailored suits, draped with a gigantic goatskin, and the suspect attachment of a “beard”.
The acting is very energetic across the board and there is nice interplay between the resounding, declamatory styles of Dionysus and Pentheus, and the chanting of the female chorus, who approximate the rhythms of Greek verse, mysterious to the English ear, and are accompanied by the boom of drum and tambourine. Henry Ashwell gives a confident, dominating presence to Dionysius, god of pleasure, while Henry Hudson’s tense delivery as the sober Pentheus really shapes the conflict between the two; Hudson plays Pentheus’ later “transformation” into a woman, as Dionysus’ ultimate humiliation, to its zesty upmost. The impressive choreography of a very mobile chorus gave increased vitality to this conflict. The ripping into pieces of the body is thankfully for Hudson left offstage, and afforded quite a different dynamic in mournful understatement by a messenger (Alex Chance); the intensity is picked up again by Poppy Rimington-Pounder as an emotive Agave, realising that the head she bears is not a lion’s but her son’s. The problem here though is that the mother is not a palpable presence in the script until this point, so although sympathy with her horror at her atrocity is inevitable, we are left a little perplexed at the degree of Dionysus’ Agave-directed hatred. Maybe, we just have to call it divine cruelty and have done with it. Or otherwise, see it as condemnation of the animal instinct that whips Thebes into orgiastic frenzy.
On the whole, this is an engaging realisation of a play that speaks evocatively to us through the mists (or as a more appropriate Bacchean analogy: the winy fragrance) of time.
Preview: London Assurance
3.5 stars
London Assurance is a clever choice for a college play in Trinity term. The script is brilliant, its lines flow effortlessly, and the farcical plot makes it very difficult not to laugh. I saw the play at the end of 5th week, so with a good deal of time left to improve on a promising preview performance, this production is shaping up to be very good.
First and foremost, the plot is wonderfully ridiculous. We see every typical farcical event one could imagine: mistaken identity is common, characters attempt to elope together, and there’s an accidental duel. As a light comedy which tends to parody itself, the challenge of the play’s direction lies in extracting every last laugh from a script littered with funny moments. Admittedly, during their presentation of the first two acts, some were not delivered with the finest timing and expression. However, there were enough golden moments to suggest that this will be developed by 7th week.
At the centre of it all is Sir Harcourt Courtly, an ageing aristocrat getting married for a sizeable dowry. Considering the only comparison I have is Simon Russell Beale’s breathtaking performance at the National (2010), Vyvyan Almond’s portrayal is very impressive. The character’s charisma and mild insanity comes across clearly; Almond has a powerful stage presence and he provided most of the best moments. Amongst other good performances was the composed valet, Mr Cool (James Mannion), against which Harcourt’s lunacy and flamboyance is accentuated.
The biggest laughs in the play come when characters shoot a remark towards the audience, often a cynical comment about the person they’re talking to. This sudden change in level was sometimes pulled off with aplomb but, along with other intricacies in the script, is something the cast can work on even more. In every conversation it seems there is some hidden objective for each character, a sense of their conniving strategies which began to come across effectively.
Weather permitting, the Merton gardens is a perfect setting. With a play that relies so heavily on keeping up its pace between scenes, and characters’ entrances being well-timed, it will be interesting to see how these challenges are tackled with a set and the long garden paths. Also, the 1841 play will be greatly enhanced by period costumes.
With more time to fine-tune characters, script subtleties and scene changes, the Merton Floats have a very entertaining show on their hands. I thoroughly recommend going. You’ll laugh.
Fashion in Film: Get the Look
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Jonny Loves Rosie hairband with Diamante embellishment, £24; ASOS gem stone bracelet, £8; ASOS flapper hair band, £15; Topshop premium rhinestone chain necklace, £60; French Connection black suede peep-toe heels, £95; Dune nude patent strappy sandals, £80; Karen Millen sheer and opaque dress, £190; Coast Chrystle sparkle dress, £220; Miss Selfridge embellished cut-out dress, £85; French Connection flash sequins dress in powder, £175.
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Betsey Johnson heart drop earrings, £35; Essie nail polish in ballet slippers, £11; New Look cream pearl wrap-around necklace, £5.99; Sister Jane lace collar gilet top, £52; Goldie London Carla Midi dress, £58; Topshop transitional bowler hat, £18; Mango blazer, £79.99; Forever 21 shimmering teardrop earrings, £3.15; Next printed pink floral scarf, £24; silver-framed round glasses, £12 at ASOS Marketplace.
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Accessorize pearl studs, £7; Dorothy Perkins pink cotton cardigan, £16; Whistles Point ballerina flats, £95; Claire’s Accessories chiffon bow hair clip, £4; Forever Unique Bessie dress in ivory, £220; Fulton photo umbrella, £12 at ASOS; Lulu Guinness birdcage umbrella, £32; Alex Monroe big single feather necklace, £132; Jaeger classic camel trench coat, £299; American Apparel Seersucker sun dress, £58; Oasis crew cardigan, £25; John Lewis cotton dress gloves, £20.
BEAUTY CORNER: designer beauty collaborations
A very wise woman (a.k.a my editor) once confessed to me that though she rarely indulges in make-up, new-season Chanel nail varnishes are her guilty pleasures. The logic behind it is also perfect: I cannot afford a bag, so the vernis is my bit of new season Chanel. This reason is one behind the recent foray of various fashion houses into the beauty market, notably Dolce & Gabbana, Tom Ford and Burberry, amongst others. They make great products, and we fawn over the beautifully packaged lipsticks, but what gets us really excited is when brands without their own make-up lines send out products – gorgeous and unique.
Alber Elbaz for Lancôme

Lanvin’s creative director is bringing the couture giant’s distinctive graceful girliness to his collaboration with Lancôme. When news of this was announced in January, the beauty world went into a state of full frenzy, waiting with baited breath for details on the limited-edition collection. Elbaz made this all about eyes, with four mascaras, four eye-palettes and Lancôme’s first ever eyelashes. The collection launches exclusively at Selfridges on 15th June (just in time for the Long Vac), and nationwide 1st July.
Pierre Hardy for NARS
Thanks to the genius collaboration between the famous shoe designer Pierre Hardy and NARS, we have a stunning summer collection. There are two blushes, and six nail polish duos of beautifully complementary shades. The best part? They come in miniature shoe boxes and dustbags! The full collection is currently available online at www.narscosmetics.co.uk

Matthew Williamson for Benefit
The king of vibrant colours has collaborated with Benefit on a limited-edition palette and, like his brand DNA, it is a celebration of shades and patterns. The ‘Rich Is Back’ palette features a mini best-selling ‘They’re Real!’ mascara, Williamson’s four exclusive eye shadows, a mini lip gloss and a powder blush – all of which have been inspired by the 70s, when Benefit first launched. And this might not be his last offerings – the designer has enjoyed his experience so much that he might launch a beauty line in the future! In the meantime, the palette is available at Debenhams stores and Benefit boutiques from 15th June.
Marc Jacobs for Sephora
After the success of his award-winning fragrances, Marc Jacobs is set to venture further into the world of beauty with his own makeup line. He has employed beauty giant Sephora to bring Marc Jacobs make-up to life. Details have been scarce, which have only fuelled interest. All we know so far is that there will be a pen eyeliner and a day-to-night eye palette. While a launch date has not been announced, an Instagram teaser set it at 9 August – get it in your diaries!
