June 16, 2009
Seeing Propeller do Shakespeare is like seeing the plays for the first time. It's fresh, it's funny, they're not too precious about the script and the excellent actors wring every drop of humour out of the scenes while sticking perfectly to the spirit of the play. I've never seen the lovers' scenes get so many laughs - and somehow this enhances rather than wipes out the emotion in the scenes. We still feel for Helena (a shining Babou Ceesay), so triumphantly dejected, and Hermia (Richard Frame) - who manages to be coyly feminine and tough-butch at the same time (and strangely reminscent of Lee Evans). And all four skip dizzyingly about the stage, constantly. In fact there's so much high-energy movement throughout that you'd think the show had a cast of 30 - it's a shock when only 14 men appear at curtain call.
The costumes are like blank canvases, white and dressed up with a few well-chosen accoutrements. The set looks alarmingly fragile but stood up to some pretty athletics. The music was eerie and haunting, played mostly on harmonicas, a glockenspiel and a set of tiny tubular bells resembling a birdcage, played with a bow. Not sumptuous or elegant, but certainly atmoshpheric - and the ensemble harmony singing was beautiful. But it is suitably insubstantial and anonymous, and what's more, brought to life by - and giving life to - the sprites and shadows, without the need for a crashing precorded soundtrack.
Puck (John Trenchard) embodies puckishness, being tiny, mischievous and otherworldly, his relationship with Oberon (Richard Clothier) very like Ariel's to Prospero. His epilogue was beautifully delivered, and just as effective at eliciting applause as it was meant to be. The mechanicals are great fun, and because many actors play two parts the mechanicals are comic relief for cast as well as audience. Watching the play-within-the-play we couldn't quite decide whether it was all going to plan, or whether props flying off in to the audience was in fact extempore. I felt for amateur actors in the audience - Propeller are professional enough to depict amdram with searing accuracy.
Sleight of hand, sudden appearances onstage and puffs of smoke made elemental magic everywhere. I thoroughly agreed with the youthful voice which let out an involuntary "Whow!" at the showers of fairy dust, nearly making Oberon corpse. It's not spectacular, just nicely unsettling.
Who knows exactly how authentic it is to joke about boys playing girls. I'd happily leave that to the academics to fight over, while I sit back and enjoy the entertainment.
The costumes are like blank canvases, white and dressed up with a few well-chosen accoutrements. The set looks alarmingly fragile but stood up to some pretty athletics. The music was eerie and haunting, played mostly on harmonicas, a glockenspiel and a set of tiny tubular bells resembling a birdcage, played with a bow. Not sumptuous or elegant, but certainly atmoshpheric - and the ensemble harmony singing was beautiful. But it is suitably insubstantial and anonymous, and what's more, brought to life by - and giving life to - the sprites and shadows, without the need for a crashing precorded soundtrack.
Puck (John Trenchard) embodies puckishness, being tiny, mischievous and otherworldly, his relationship with Oberon (Richard Clothier) very like Ariel's to Prospero. His epilogue was beautifully delivered, and just as effective at eliciting applause as it was meant to be. The mechanicals are great fun, and because many actors play two parts the mechanicals are comic relief for cast as well as audience. Watching the play-within-the-play we couldn't quite decide whether it was all going to plan, or whether props flying off in to the audience was in fact extempore. I felt for amateur actors in the audience - Propeller are professional enough to depict amdram with searing accuracy.
Sleight of hand, sudden appearances onstage and puffs of smoke made elemental magic everywhere. I thoroughly agreed with the youthful voice which let out an involuntary "Whow!" at the showers of fairy dust, nearly making Oberon corpse. It's not spectacular, just nicely unsettling.
Who knows exactly how authentic it is to joke about boys playing girls. I'd happily leave that to the academics to fight over, while I sit back and enjoy the entertainment.