June 6, 2006
"Can this cockpit hold the vasty fields of France?" demands the Chorus (Tommy Seddon*) in this play's opening lines. Within a half-circle of chairs on the lawns of Worcester College, can Buskins Theatre Company recreate the events of Henry V's French war?
It's a risky question to ask. This is the Shakespearean equivalent of a blockbuster movie: a romp with lots of war, impressive speeches and not that much introspection, which seems to demand a big SFX budget. But the Chorus, veering between gravity and inspired glee, seems filled with conviction. And despite a few shaky moments, the rest of the company don't let him down – not by striving to create cast-of-thousands heroics, but by keeping everything on a smaller, more personal scale.
The costumes and props are unobtrusive; aside from the odd breastplate and helmet, dress is modern-day (linen suits and dresses for the upper class, sportswear for the commoners). Topically, with the World Cup coming up, a parallel is being drawn between war and football. The foot-soldiers wear England jerseys and there's a feeling of football hooliganism to their scenes with French soldiers, mocking their speech and threatening them with pocket knives.
The performances are enthusiastic and always clearly audible, which can't be said of a good many much larger-budget productions. King Henry (Rafi Martina) is a fiery orator, but avoids falling into Shakespearean-actor cliché. He delivers an oddly intimate and low-key version of the St Crispin's Day speech which packs a serious punch. As befits the personal, non-heroic feel of this production, the French aren't portrayed as the evil enemy but as quirky individuals, like the neurotic, twitchy King Charles VI (Ian Runacres) and his contrastingly cocky, insouciant Dauphin (Jack Milln).
The common soldiers Pistol, Nym and Bardolph (Ben Carson, Patrick Pitcaithly and Alex Bartho), with a sulky Mistress Quickly (Flora Herries) in teetering platform shoes, seemed somewhat lacking in real street aggression in their early fight scene, but relaxed into their scrapping, beer-glugging parts later. The play's moments of absurd humour – more than you might expect from a history play – mostly involved them, notably Fluellen (a very funny Jess Goodman) beating the anti-Welsh Pistol with a leek.
Though a little rough around the edges at times, this was a very entertaining production, full of energy, in a beautiful setting – a great way to spend a summer evening.
It's a risky question to ask. This is the Shakespearean equivalent of a blockbuster movie: a romp with lots of war, impressive speeches and not that much introspection, which seems to demand a big SFX budget. But the Chorus, veering between gravity and inspired glee, seems filled with conviction. And despite a few shaky moments, the rest of the company don't let him down – not by striving to create cast-of-thousands heroics, but by keeping everything on a smaller, more personal scale.
The costumes and props are unobtrusive; aside from the odd breastplate and helmet, dress is modern-day (linen suits and dresses for the upper class, sportswear for the commoners). Topically, with the World Cup coming up, a parallel is being drawn between war and football. The foot-soldiers wear England jerseys and there's a feeling of football hooliganism to their scenes with French soldiers, mocking their speech and threatening them with pocket knives.
The performances are enthusiastic and always clearly audible, which can't be said of a good many much larger-budget productions. King Henry (Rafi Martina) is a fiery orator, but avoids falling into Shakespearean-actor cliché. He delivers an oddly intimate and low-key version of the St Crispin's Day speech which packs a serious punch. As befits the personal, non-heroic feel of this production, the French aren't portrayed as the evil enemy but as quirky individuals, like the neurotic, twitchy King Charles VI (Ian Runacres) and his contrastingly cocky, insouciant Dauphin (Jack Milln).
The common soldiers Pistol, Nym and Bardolph (Ben Carson, Patrick Pitcaithly and Alex Bartho), with a sulky Mistress Quickly (Flora Herries) in teetering platform shoes, seemed somewhat lacking in real street aggression in their early fight scene, but relaxed into their scrapping, beer-glugging parts later. The play's moments of absurd humour – more than you might expect from a history play – mostly involved them, notably Fluellen (a very funny Jess Goodman) beating the anti-Welsh Pistol with a leek.
Though a little rough around the edges at times, this was a very entertaining production, full of energy, in a beautiful setting – a great way to spend a summer evening.