Tag Archives: fiction

MEASURE FOR MEASURE. Rsc Stratford upon Avon

TANGLED JUSTICE, MORAL SWAMPS

  There is no sure hero in Shakespeare’s ‘mystery play” , which can be exhilarating.  Emily BUrns’  remarkably sure-footed, clear and well-trimmed production, in a stark monochrome moden set of stairs and benches,  certainly is.  And although its plot is based on concepts of sexual sin (meaning  before marriage) which we do not in 2025 condemn,  she exhilaratingly starts it with a brief video montage of Clinton, Epstein, Trump, Prince Andrew, Rubiales, Hancock etc.   Sexual sin never goes right out of date, just changes clothes.  

    Plot in brief: the Duke, feeling “we have let slip old values” , heads off disguised as a cleric and leaves the lean, mean priggish Angelo in charge, who promptly condemns Claudio to death for getting his fiancee pregnant.  Claudio’s sister Isabella, contacted by the lad’s friend Lucio,  pleads for his life but Angelo will only grant it if she sleeps with him.  She is too virtuous. But the disguised Duke sets it up so Angelo thinks he is having her, but is actually breaking the rules by sleeping with his own fiancee, who he’d discarded for not being rich enough. 

       And so it goes. Burns  keeps it moving fast and merciless, her cast – nearly all RSC debutants, though several well known from TV  – are perfect in mood and emotion.  Adan James’  good-hearted Duke is wonderful,  both in his disguised humiliation being mocked by  a laddish Lucio (Douggie MdMeekin). and in his dismayed determination to expose Angelo’s hypocrisy;  Isis Hainsworth’s Isabella is superb too,  and her scene with Claudio – in his intially desperate attack of timor-mortis   – is properly moving, until with rapid subtle self-delusion he suddenly manages to convinced himself that a girl’s virtue is , face it,  unimportant next to a man’s life.    Oli Higginson does it with horrid clarity; you can see why he was such friends with Lucio the lecher. 

    But they’re all perfect, not only in confident RSC-level handling of some quite complex texts with clarity but in characterization: right down to  ANatasha Jayetileke’s Provost, an irritated functionary hating Angelo’s seizure of his “brief authority” and his irrational condemnation of Claudio .  And there’s a magnificent smart-stillettoed turn from Emily Benjamin  as Marianna when she agrees to be the substitute for Isabella, especially when she is presented, shuddering, 

 with a copy of that that innocent aspiring-nun’s long, drooping gingham frock to dress up in.  

         As for Mothersdale’ s Angelo, he is on–point too:  fiddling with his rubber stamps and hole-punches and executive toy (Isabella in her vain pleasing bangs these around a bit), and when he in rising lust decides to proposition her,  he displays a wonderful pigeon-toed excitement, a chap uneasy in his trousers.   And wow, if you want a good seduction scene, dim-lit and brutal in an entirely unexpected way (girl power!),  here it is.  

        Altogether,  the modern setting – blokes in suits behaving atrociously – is more beautifully justified than in many modernizations: especially when Isabella furiously threatens Angelo  “I will proclaim you! The world shall know what man thou art!”and he points out that nobody will believe her.  And, indeed, in various bits of sophistry employed by almosteveryone except Isabella.    So her final moment, no spoilers, though not quite Shakespeare’s intention is wholly 21c in spirit. Bravo!

Rsc.org.uk.  To. 25 october

Rating 5 

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THE TRUTH ABOUT HARRY BECK                London Transport Museum 

 

A JOURNEY OF JOURNEYS

     A map is a lovely thing, but sometimes practically speaking a diagram is better. And can also be lovely: especially when its useful elegance has become a familiar part of home.   Such is the London Underground diagram:  designed initially by Harry Beck (who preferred to be called Henry),  for a time appearing under another name to his great chagrin, but now once more honouring him with a tiny inscription at the bottom:  “After an idea by Harry C Beck”. 

    The story of its creation is being  told in this playful, touching 65-minute play  in the tiny Cubic Theatre underneath the London Transport Museum:  as one player says, “the twisting story of a simple thing”. 

 Happening to be in Covent Garden on a Sunday,  I wandered into the roiling mass of confused tourists ,  since I note that it has extended to January with  well-earned plaudits for the Natural Theatre Company’s wistful nostalgic take on the story. 

       Simon Snashall from The IT Crowd on TV normally takes the part, but on my day he was replaced by John Gregor, and I cannot imagine any more charming depiction:  in a tank top, balding and bespectacled,  he delicately draws the portrait of one of the Great British Nerds,  a decent unassuming man focused more on his work than his image.   Alongside him Ashley Christmas plays his wife and chief narrator,  Nora (admitting she had to do the proposing). 

        Andy Burden’s neat script (he also directs)  takes  their story from Beck’s unassuming beginnings, anxious for work in the hungry 1930’s, through courtship and marriage to retirement, all in retrospect.  It happens on  the sweetest of sets: draughtsmans desk, ,hatstand  armchair, teapot, a screen behind suggesting the ghostly fact of the winding London Thames.  He was first an draughtsman apprentice in the Signals department of London transport,  drawing electronics diagrams all straight lines and connections.   “He likes patterns”  says Nora,  and Beck had always shaking his head at the way that once they’re actually built, electrical systems end  up as a jumble of wire  spaghetti.

       He moved on to draw some Underground posters – classics every one, on sale upstairs on a dozen mugs and T-shirts.   And between them, he and Nora  saw that while people  at work may go from A to B on a familiar line,  some also want to roam around the great city and see new places. They need to know how to change line.  But as the system of lines had grown fast, built by different companies,  the map became a terrible mess (worth looking that up, here’s a nice one https://www.alteagallery.com/products/london/london-transport-maps/a-pre-beck-map-of-londons-underground-railways/). 

        So ,  grabbing a red ribbon from Nora’s sewing-basket to make the Central Line,  Beck picked up next a purple one, a green one, a  blue one, a black one…pinning them from lamp-stand to wall to floor in a maypole jungle, getting an audience member to hold down the end of the Northern Line with his foot . And he  began clothespegging the junctions together.  And settled down to draw it in neat lines. 

        In 1933, only mildly impressed, London Transport agreed to put it out on a series of little portable maps. And people, of course, loved it.

        The story of his revisions, obsession, and arguments carries on, economically done (“ooh – top left – a bit spiky – smooth it out..”)  Nora’s narrative neatly points out how the years fled by, invention by invention – cats eyes, nylon, spam, aerosols, helicopters, dialysis –  while Harry revised and revised and re-designed. 

       And then furiously found that his old verbal contract wasn’t waterproof..and it came out a bit vandalized by someone called Hutchinson.  And Nora had to calm him down.  But he’s there on the credits now, and celebrated in the little theatre.  Like his diagram,  it’s a neat and elegant delight.

ltmuseum.co.uk     to 5 jan   

rating 4      

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