This is very good fun indeed. Who does not want an onstage dog called Crab, benignly upstaging a rarely seen Shakespeare clown? And a riotous rendering of Mambo Italiano at a Milanese f1 party by a hirsute drag queen who, wig removed, is the stately Duke himself? Who does not warm to daft young love, betrayal, remorse, and the sort of cameo detail that has the wayward Proteus’ Mum ordering him to Milan to improve himself while haughtily having her nails done? All that, plus outlaws disguised as bushes, a terrible soft-rock serenade with accordion , and – not least – immaculate RSC-standard respect for both verse and spirit of a rare classic.
This is a student production ,but rather than lectures and workshops this year’s Cameron Mackintosh visiting professor at st Catherines College opted to collaborate with student actors, producers and crew, and direct this short run at the Playhouse . For he is Sir Gregory Doran, recent and celebrated RSC chief, fresh from a project tracking down the first folio. And this early, little discussed work is the only Shakespeare play he had never before directed. It is full of premonitions of later themes – a girl disguised as a boy, flight through a forest, a dictatorial father planning marriages. Better still, it is very much about youth’s young friendships and loyalties, and the way falling in love can cause heartbreaking betrayals in tempestuous immaturity.Perfect.
And so it proved: joyfully funny, full of sharp clever touches (the teasing, rhyming banter of lovelorn Valentine by his servant (Jelanie Munroe, a Rhodes scholar) turns into a communal rap; Leah Aspden’s dry northern maid Lucetta has a beguiling scorn of sentiment.Valentine’s first sight of the Duke’s daughter Silvia finds her in f1 gear and helmet like any motor racing it-girl; Thurio her proposed suitable suitor is a bouffant pink-haired nightclub poser with shiny leggings, a manbag and a powder compact. And in that teenage clubbing world under the witchball , Proteus’ announcement in soliloquy that “I cannot now be constant to myself without some treachery used to Valentine”, feels like a perfect modern “it’s just me” flounce.
Indeed while both the men around whose friendship and betrayal the plot turnsare excellent, Rob Wolfreys’ Proteus is particularly remarkable: he is a first-year student ,but under this director and with immaculate line discipline , he creates a wholly credible creature of youthful fire and confusion: a good heart overcome in turn by desire and remorse.
This was not the press night, which is today. But it only runs until Saturday, so it feels worth recording now just how good it is (still some seats). And celebrating how robust a company they have become in these short months. Doran announced from the stage that illness tonight nearly meant cancellation, losing the vital character Julia (who follows her lover disguised as a boy and suffers Proteus’ treachery – prefiguring Viola in Twelfth Night). But late on, the assistant director Imogen Usherwood agred to take the role, script in hand. And blow me, she was immaculate: in manner, conviction and gesture (managing awkward props and tearing of letters even when the script was in her other hand.) She made Julia touching, as she should be, and dignified in the final confrontations. And the final moment Doran cleverly avoids the rather trite redemptive ending (Shakespeare was only starting out) by letting the reconciled lads go off happily together while the girls – perhaps wondering about the whole happy ever after idea – simply stare across the stage at one another.
Not my place to star-rate a first preview. But it’s terrific. Just wanted to tell you. Oh, and during the interval Jo Rich, who plays Launce, wanders round selling dog leads just like the one on Crab, for the RSPCA. It all left me so fond of the rising generation that I easily tolerated the caterwauling party kids on the late, late, late train back to London..
Oxford playhouse, to 18th. Five more shows to go, well worth it.
Not rating but here’s a director-mouse for visiting-professor Sir Greg Doran for making it happen
theatreCat 