Friday, 14 February 2014

Henry V and Coriolanus: A Day with Shakespeare on the London Stage

London is a dream come true for theatre lovers. From contemporary and experimental drama, through musicals, to the classics, there is a performance for everyone, and often with a stellar actor in the lead role. As one wanders around the West End and Covent Garden, names like Ben Whishaw, David Tennant, Matthew Macfadyen, Jude Law, or Tom Hiddleston glisten on the posters decorating the fronts of the theatres. The last two gentlemen star in productions of Shakespeare's plays Henry V and Coriolanus respectively – both critically acclaimed and sold-out performances, or perhaps not quite sold-out. Sometimes getting up well before dawn and queuing for hours in the hope of snatching one of the few returned or standing tickets is just what it takes to get in, and I did. The 4:30 a. m. start was well worth the effort for having the pleasure of witnessing Jude Law lead the English to the battle of Agincourt in the afternoon, and Tom Hiddleston almost singlehandedly defeat the town of Corioles in the evening.

Henry V is one of Shakespeare's finest history plays, portraying the king of England making his claim on France. Directed by Michael Grandage at the Noel Coward Theatre, this play about leadership, warfare and patriotism – themes that resonate with the audiences to this day – is brought to life in an exciting production. A whitewashed wooden half-circle serves as a set, clearly referencing the “wooden O” of The Globe the Chorus mentions in his opening speech. Its simplicity leaves much to the imagination of the audience, while providing a space for mood-enhancing projections and allowing ingenious use of the various doors and trapdoors to portray the changing locations amid the chaos of battle. The actors appear in medieval costumes, except for the Chorus whom Grandage also assigns the role of the Boy. He is clad in contemporary clothing, wearing a Union Jack T-shirt and jeans, thus establishing perhaps a little too forcefully a link with the present. His double role, performed by the energetic Ashley Zhangazha, often highlights the contradictions of the grand patriotic speeches of the Chorus and the bloody reality of war.


Image credits: Magdalena Císlerová
Whether or not Henry's war (or any other for that matter) is just is one of the principal concerns of the play, and one that is not resolved easily. Jude Law gives a wonderfully complex portrayal of the warrior king, unafraid to highlight Henry's moments of introspection, fear, or anger alongside his authoritative royal conduct. He excels at the rousing “Once more unto the breech” and the St Crispin's Day speeches, while not shying away from Henry's darker moments, which he performs with chilling intensity, such as the threatening speech to the people of Harfleur or ordering to kill all prisoners. His wooing of Jessie Buckley's French Princess Katherine is just the cherry on top of a great performance. This marvellous scene, so often cut considerably in many performances, is incredibly witty, humorous and romantic at the same time, and Law plays it with exactly the right amount of cockiness, playfulness and affection, winning not just the sympathies of the princess in question, but of the whole theatre.

Incidentally, Tom Hiddleston stars as Henry V in The Hollow Crown series, the recent BBC's superb adaptation of four Shakespeare's history plays: Richard II, Henry IV Part 1, Henry IV Part 2, and Henry V. However, he takes on quite a different role – that of a proud Roman general who goes from hero to zero – in Josie Rourke's production of Coriolanus. Set in the early days of the Roman republic threatened by the Volscian army, Coriolanus almost singlehandedly wins the battle and returns to Rome, celebrated, to run for consul. Yet he is unwilling to overcome his pride to suck up to the plebeians, and is expelled from Rome. He joins the Volscians in order to take revenge on his own city. A play full of angry crowds and bloody battle, the tiny 250-seat Donmar Warehouse makes for an interesting choice of venue, however the play works surprisingly well in such an intimate space, which Rourke utilizes ingeniously. The staging is reduced to a brick wall sprayed with graffiti by the plebeians demanding “Grain at our own price”, complemented only a by a single ladder and a row of chairs, which together with a few fireballs are enough to convey brilliantly the battle scenes at Corioli. Graffiti is added throughout the performance, chairs are manoeuvred around as loud techno music fills the theatre, while the actors stroll around the stage in an eclectic mix of contemporary and Roman clothing, the soldiers sporting skinny jeans and Doc Martens with leather armour, gloves and swords. The refusal to confine the production to a certain period of time emphasizes the relevance of many of its issues, such as the struggle for democracy, power of manipulation, and the responsibilities of public service, to today's audiences.

The fights are ferocious, so much so that in one scene Coriolanus emerges from behind the battlements so drenched in blood he later takes a shower on stage, gasping as the water hits his wounds. It is quite an extraordinary moment, providing not only eye-candy for the female audiences, but more importantly showing the vulnerability of the flawed hero, turned into a killing machine by his monster of a mother who rejoices at each of his new scars. Hiddleston gives a breathtaking intricate performance as the Roman soldier: fierce in battle, humble after victory, scornful in his treatment of the plebeians, gentle with his wife, and thunderous upon his expulsion from Rome. When his mother, wife and son plead him to spare Rome, Hiddleston's long unmoving gaze reveals with much intensity his dilemma and emotional turmoil as he decides to exchange pride – his vice – for sympathy, knowing he is signing his death warrant by doing so. The rest of the cast deliver superb performances as well, especially Deborah Findlay as Coriolanus' overpowering mother Volumnia, and Mark Gatiss as the witty senator Menenius.

Neither Henry V nor Coriolanus are among the most popular plays of the Bard on the Czech theatre scene, but on the stages of the Noel Coward Theatre and the Donmar Warehouse they come to life with such a thrilling force in well-crafted and illuminating productions that it is clear they have much to offer. As I was leaving the Donmar Warehouse that night, the poignant image of Coriolanus' execution still fresh in my mind, I knew that the fate of the warrior king and the Roman general would stay with me to ponder long after the tube ride to my temporary London home was over.


-          Magdalena Císlerová