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

A Mad World My Masters

Swan Theatre, Stratford upon Avon

****

Written by Thomas Middleton

Edited by Sean Foley and Phil Porter

Directed by Sean Foley



Ian Redford



With bawdy banter, cross dressing, a spot of flagellation and smutty double-entendres aplenty, Sean Foley has taken Thomas Middleton’s 1605 comedy and vaulted it forward to London’s Soho in the 1950s with a leap in time that for the most part works lasciviously well. Soho has a natural affinity to amorality, with the programme notes wryly documenting the area’s association with gangland villainy as well as its celebrated strip joints, so for a play that bursts with sexual frustrations, the geography works well.

Some aspects of the plot are timeless. Lust, womanising and the inclusion of that well worn glorious seam of bawdy British humour, the infinite comic potential of the penis, (truly a gift to writers that keeps on giving) are all deployed in an incongruous tale of sexual deception and bungling theft. Oh, and there are also the frequent, pre-Chaucerian gags at the expense of elderly gentlemen whose sexual desires outweigh their abilities, confirming the adage that there is “no fool like an old fool” whenever possible.

The 1950’s are acknowledged via costume and music and in a nod to the skiffle of the recent One Man, Two Guvnors, a beautifully balanced 6 piece band create a mise-en-scene with Shake, Rattle and Roll, going on to pepper the script with other 1950’s gems including the smoothest of takes on Cry Me A River. The musicians are complemented by the powerful Soul presence of Linda John-Pierre, a glorious diva whose voice alone suggests a mellow jazz trombone and slowly rotating 1950’s glitterball with every note she sings.

Heavily stylised maybe, but this confection of a piece contains some cracking performances. Ian Redford’s RSC debut as the blustering Sir Bounteous Peersucker creates a delightful hybrid that suggests the fondly remembered legends of Richard Grifffiths and Robert Morley. Richard Durden as his doddering butler Spunky similarly turns in a marvellously complementary performance as yet another ageing gent, desperately seeking female charms.

Among the boys, Richard Goulding’s Dick Follywit bears more than a passing resemblance to a young David Cameron in his Bullingdon Club days, whilst John Hopkins’ ridiculously named Penitent Brothel is comically priapic in his adulterous seduction of Ellie Beaven’s Mrs Littledick. Hopkins’ singing of the hymnal Yield Not To Temptation, solitary in his bedsit whilst whipping himself, before steamily fantasising about Littledick is a slick combination of acting, comedy and song.




John Hopkins and Ellie Beaven

 

Beaven’s performance is a wonderfully controlled contrast that ranges from an initially frustrated and modestly dressed wife through to a Fosse inspired fantasy seductress in sizzling lingerie that evokes the Daily Telegraph’s Charles Spencer’s famous “pure theatrical Viagra” description from years back, as her character mercilessly messes with Brothel’s mind. Sarah Ridgway’s protagonist prostitute, Truly Kidman, is another chic performance from an actress who knows how to blend naïve coquettishness with downright hilarity, as her character’s arc journeys from bedroom to the impersonation of a god-fearing Irish nun. Ishia Bennison as Kidman’s mother and pimp is a modest role yet one of outrageous and well portrayed depravity with comic moments that belie her talent in flashes of maturely controlled understatement.

Not for the easily offended, Foley’s editing is generally sharp, well-tailored and very funny, though a reference to FGM  from Kidman’s mother as she tells of repeatedly re-creating her daughters virginity is the one intended joke of the night that lacks both taste and sensitivity.

The 2013 RSC Swan company are a sensational troupe. This fusion of Carry On humour and slickly rehearsed Commedia d’ell Arte would easily grace a London stage, whilst their Titus Andronicus continues to shock and astound. Bring on Candide!

In repertory until 25 October 2013