Plays International
By Jeremy Mailes, August 2005
The production was outstanding. The piece built on an intelligent,
ardent interpretation of Viola from Kaitlyn Riordan which put me in
mind of the
mischief and ingenuity shown by Imogen Stubbs when playing the role
for Trevor Nunn. As it became obvious that Riordan could be
androgynous in her male disguise, allowing the homoerotic undertones
with Orsino (James Finnegan) to create tension, you realised that
everything in this enterprising production was going to slot into
place.
Set in an Edwardian colonial outpost, the piece drew strength from
a supporting cast that had not a suspicion of a weak link. Matthew
Ward was the youngest Sir Toby I have seen outside drama school
productions but injected original business into the role even to the
point of stealing wine from spectators.
There were two original performances from Angelo Miliano as Aguecheek
and Keith Horwood as Feste. Miliano ignored much of his character’s
foppery and played the role with a Bronx accent and robust Groucho
Marx mannerisms in a howlingly loud check suit. I worried that the
mock duel might suffer but having been dragged on stage by Malvolio,
he and Riordan did the scene justice.
este must be one of the most unforgiving parts in Shakespeare and I
am kept awake at night when recalling Wayne Sleep’s numbingly inept
performance in the role just ten miles down the road in Brighton last
summer. But Keith Horwood put in good work, giving the character
Buddhist touches and a beguiling Dylan drawl.
A cuboid set made extensive use of traps which produced high comedy
as Olivia’s household observed Malvolio completing the word puzzle.
(The scene gained much from this, being uncluttered in comparison with
the normal scuttling behind hedges or flowerpots.) The production was
full of surprises and Orsino’s ideas about the food of love proved
eccentric since much of the incidental music was by Philip Glass.
The most impressive performance was by Alastair Whatley as Malvolio,
his step-in being all the more courageous for being played against age
and type. Superficially the director was too young and clean-cut to
make his romantic ambitions sufficiently ridiculous but Whatley drew
on a considerable technical armoury in making the role credible.
se of a trap gave the cross-gartered entrance intensity and we got
a decent amount of hosiery rather than the diminutive ankle socks that
seem to be in vogue. Details such as his Jacques Tati-inspired antics
with a tennis racquet added to the fun and had a gossamer touch. And
yet Whatley’s final appearance in which he confronts Olivia with the
forged letter was more than usually disturbing and underlined the
director’s abilities. Whatley is that rare bird, a young, insightful
director who can really act.
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