Titus Andronicus

Shakespeare's Globe, London

****

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Lucy Bailey

Matthew Needham, William Houston and Indira Varma

Much like General Titus himself, Lucy Bailey’s production of this most bloodthirsty of Shakespeare’s works, makes a glorious and triumphant return to Shakespeare’s Globe. Under Bill Dudley’s black and oppressive velarium spread atop the yard space, the groundlings are spared blistering sunshine, but remain exposed to the pouring rain, which on press night only added to the ghoulish horrors of the ghastly tale. Guttural percussion and pungent incense assault one's senses on entering the Globe’s performing space and even before the players take to the stage, this production hints at being a festival of Shakespearean fun.

The classic story is driven by the vengeance that Tamora, the Goth Queen and Titus her conqueror, wreak upon each other's families for the various acts of murder, rape and mutilation that their children have suffered. Around these tribes and fuelling their appetites for revenge, Aaron, Tamora's Moorish lover, spins a web of lies and deceit that adds to the body count. Whilst the horrendous rape and disfigurement of Titus’ daughter Lavinia occurs offstage, nearly all the other carnage occurs in full view of the audience. For those who like their literature served bloody, this play truly is a rare treat.

Lavinia's rape is evil and Flora Spencer-Longhurst puts in a moving performance as the victim, pleading to Indira Varma’s Tamora woman to woman that she should call off sons Chiron and Demetrius from ravishing her. Elsewhere in the play however, and as can be so often the case with horror, there is much comedy. When Tamora gives birth to a mixed-race baby, conceived illegitimately with Aaron, the proud father boasts to her shocked legitimate sons. When they accuse him of having “undone” their mother, he retorts “I have done thy mother”. Obi Abili convinces as the malevolent Moor and deftly extracts a deserved guffaw from the crowd. Some of the play's comedy is occasionally overplayed and Matthew Needham’s Emperor Saturninus is at times just a little heavy on the Kenneth Williams style antics.

William Houston plays the wearied Titus well. Rome’s loyal servant, he comes close to losing his mind as he witnesses the terrors that befall his family, though in the play’s final scenes, adorned in chef’s hat as the Bard instructs, his serving up of the pie in which Chiron and Demetrius have been slaughtered and baked, is delivered with relish. One should also give a nod to Brian Martin and Samuel Edward-Cook's performances as the errant young Goths, destined to fill Titus' infernal pasty. Their final scene before Andronicus slits their throats is excruciating to watch. Suspended by their ankles for what is probably five minutes but seems an eternity, their ultimate despatch comes as a blessed relief to the audience.

Ian Gelder is a wise counsel as Titus’ brother Marcus, though it is also largely through this play's creative team that Bailey has also achieved her success. Django Bates’ music, haunting trumpets and relentless drums, suggest a world of violence and discord. Terry King, arguably one of the greatest fight directors, choreographs the mayhem with aplomb whilst Pam Humpage’s make-up effects go a long way to convincing us that the onstage horrors are for real.

If you can stomach violence (and 13 people were spotted being helped from the auditorium during act one alone) then Bailey's production truly is Shakespeare for the people. The yard space is used to the full as the groundlings become Rome’s plebeians and the bacchanalic splashing of wine over the squealing crowd only adds to the merriment. Shocking, upsetting and at times hilarious, this Titus Andronicus is bloody good Shakespeare.

Runs until 13th July 2014

Candide

Swan Theatre, Stratford upon Avon

*****

A new play by Mark Ravenhill

Inspired by Voltaire

Sarah Ridgeway

Mark Ravenhill’s Candide, is one of those rare pieces of theatre that not only sets out to challenge some widely held perceptions on life, but actually succeeds in its mission, via provocative stagecraft that is close to perfect.

Ravenhill's starting point is Voltaire’s hero Candide, an eternal optimist who believes that all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds. Candide’s progress however sees him encounter a succession of grim realities that continually test his gloriously naïve and eternally hopeful presumptions, until the argument is ultimately proposed that optimism is simply people tricking themselves.

That’s it for the philosophical comment of this review and if you want to learn more, see the show! But if Voltaire provided the seed of Ravenhill’s journey, then the structure of his play is at times more of a nod to Doc Brown’s time machine from the movie Back To The Future rather than the classic French tale. The play opens in 18th century Westphalia where Candide, in a performance from Matthew Needham that just occasionally feels slightly forced, is expelled from his adoptive home after virtually seducing his young cousin Cunegonde. Conscripted into the army, battle follows and whilst at all times following Voltaire’s underlying themes, Ravenhill brutally lurches us into the present day and the birthday celebrations in a swanky hotel of an apparently catatonic Sophie. Awakened from her trance like state, Sophie in a performance of electrifying menace, massacres her family one by one, whilst bewailing her grief at the destruction that modern humankind is wreaking upon the planet. Candide’s arc broadly continues in modern times, amongst shocking, visceral theatre, beautifully envisioned by Lyndsey Turner that is as exhilarating as it is disturbing to watch. If Ravenhill’s mission has been not only to provoke and to stimulate his audience but also to entertain them, then he gloriously succeeds.

Stylish writing is matched here by sublime performances. Ian Redford (is this really his RSC debut season?) shines as Sophie’s Ray Winstone like grandfather, going on to threaten as an ultimately corrupt Pangloss. Sarah Ridgeway’s Sophie brings a chilling intensity rarely seen outside Tarantino movies, to leafy sleepy Stratford whilst Rose Reynolds, who like many of her peers has delivered consistent excellence throughout this season, is a delight as the wide-eyed coquettishly climactic Cunegonde. John Hopkins as cynical film director Tim again shows his versatility in a range of roles, whilst Kevin Harvey’s Voltaire is just a delight to listen to. Harvey's scouse diction, so perfectly clipped and matching his immaculate presence enhances all his scenes, whilst veteran Susan Engel’s final act is as shocking as it is enthralling. Soutra Gilmour’s designs that bridge continents as equally as they span the centuries keep up with the mania that appears to be Ravenhill’s powerfully creative mind.

This production is such a stunning confection of ideas and imagery that it deserves a wider audience. With apologies for yet another cinematic comparison, but the political and philosophical absurdity of Ravenhill's interpretation of Candide's journey suggested echoes of Lindsay Anderson's seminal movie, O Lucky Man! The RSC who well know how to exploit a successful production, should consider engaging a British filmmaker to translate Ravenhill’s visions on to the big screen. His ideas have a contemporary beauty that is rare, wonderful and refreshingly free of all pretension and his Candide is a story that must be seen.

Runs until 26th October 2013