Opening night (last Friday) ended prematurely, before Act Two (of five) was completed, the forecast cessation of rain failing to materialise. Fortunately the planned Mayoral Reception, hosted by his Worship Justin Lester, was brought forward and civic sustenance revived our spirits. Had Hannah Jones (with Matthew Ross on violin) known in advance, they might have regaled us with ‘The Wind and the Rain’ (“for the rain it raineth every day”) from Twelfth Night rather than ‘A Lover and his Lass’ from As You Like It – but like it we did, very much. Hey ho.

Next night was cancelled because rain was forecast but that too didn’t happen. Two shows did go ahead on Sunday (which I couldn’t get to) then last night, Monday, the best day/night all summer, was their day off. Hey nonnino.

This night, however, the sky is clear, the breeze is gentle and all bodes well for All’s Well That Ends Well. We are ramped on seats facing into what used to be the Civic Square entrance to Capital E. A sandstone wall behind the designated performance area hides steps to the overbridge, at stage left (our right) there’s a glassed-in lift. Director Peter Hambleton and his fully-committed cast employ these features very creatively to add entertainment value. 

Along with Troilus and Cressida and Measure for Measure, All’s Well That Ends Well is categorised as a Problem Play (e.g. by F S Boas in Shakespeare and his Predecessors, 1896), because it dramatises social problems – namely the inequality of women and the injustice of the class system. All three are also regarded as Proto-Feminist, and David Lawrence, in his recent ‘Shakespeare’s Tropes’ lecture series, argued “that essentially they’re three different versions of the same story, in which a woman, whose view of the world is centuries ahead of the world she lives in, is treated horrifically by men and somehow takes the blame on herself. Helena, Isabella and Cressida have attitudes and voices that would have been utterly alien to most Elizabethan/ Jacobean men and women.”

Helena, the orphaned daughter of a great doctor (Gerard de Narbon), who passed on much of his skill and left her many of his recipes for cures, is now the ward of the Countess of Roussillion, whose son, Bertram, she loves. But he, the recent inheritor of the title ‘Count of Roussillion’, has now become the ward of the ailing King of France and been summoned to his court. So Helena determines to follow Bertram, cure the King of his fistula and claim Bertram as her reward.

Apart from Shakespeare’s oft-used dramatic device of creating jeopardy – especially in comedies – by having the King condemn people to death if they don’t overcome specified obstacles by stated deadlines, the most notable tropes are the gifting of rings which later prove who was where with whom for what nefarious purposes, and the related Bed Trick, whereby Bertram unwittingly consummates the marriage he has been forced into and abandoned. He rejects the ‘low-born’ Helena, incidentally, in favour of joining his French soldier mates in a random war the King has packed them off to, to complete their transitions to manhood.

If Bertram’s ascent from privileged prat to some sort of maturity is part of the main Helena plot, the gulling and come-uppance of his best mate Parolles, a loud-mouthed braggart who is proved to be a duplicitous, self-serving coward, climaxes the ‘B-story’ whereby the worst aspects of ‘manhood’ are contrasted with high-achieving womanhood.

It’s a challenge, then to find a style and tone that honours the central class and gender issues while prompting willing suspension of disbelief concerning the less realistic plot devices (which is what some commentators mean by calling it a ‘problem play’). Directors wanting to focus on the social issues often cut the clown Lavatch (servant to the Countess) to help keep things ‘real’ but the pure horniness which drives his desire to marry is a good variation on Helena’s honest love for Bertram and Bertram’s “wonton way of youth” carry-on, let alone Parolles’ lascivious lewdness.

While opting for a ‘modern dress’ production replete with bikes and scooters, director Peter Hambleton has kept Lavatch in, and Ingrid Saker relishes the opportunity to deliver an intelligently crafted high energy rendition.

Indeed high energy seems to be the watchword for many of the cast, with Shawn Keil’s Parolles, Allan Burne’s Lafew (a Lord attending the Countess) and the Soldiers en masse seeming to compete for the status of clown, which throws the textural, not to mention the textual, balance out somewhat.

Speaking of status, in a play about inequality based on class and gender, a sense of who has status over whom should permeate every aspect of staging and performance but it is undermined in this production by the egalitarian ethos of this setting and of Summer Shakespeare itself. Too often a prevailing sense of a lively cast having a great time overwhelms the true purpose of key scenes.

I would also like to sense more genuine jeopardy in the aforementioned gulling scene – not helped here by the brothers Dumaine (Shivneel Singh and Josh McGowan) and other soldiers being played with no clear objectives. We are neither privy to their strategy nor invited to empathise with the dilemma Parolles thinks he faces. As with the gulling of Malvolio in Twelfth Night, the play is vastly improved if we finally feel some degree of compassion for the gullible victim.

While I’m griping, I see no valid reason for playing so many important exchanges up in the bleachers to the detriment of sightlines, acoustics and appropriate focus on crucial elements of the play. Opportunity for us to ‘get to know’ characters and evaluate their value systems, behaviours and interactions, are constantly subverted by this over-used convention. The main playing space is well appointed for sight and sound yet too often it sits empty while we twist, crane and strain to get the gist of what’s happening.

Thank goodness, then, for Harriet Prebble’s strong, well-grounded Helena, modulated with clarity and emotional intelligence. I’m surprised she’s allowed to shout at the King rather than use more subtle tones of persuasion, but the essential truth of her interpretation goes a long way towards solving the play’s major problem: why the hell does she love a prick like Bertram?

I have to say that had Hamish Boyle fully characterised Bertram’s insufferable qualities, the problem would have been more apparent. Instead, this is but one example of random performance elements trumping coherent character. Boyle does, however, mark key moments to good effect and pull some memorable moves.

Simon McArthur’s King of France exudes the necessary status and authority, even if those around him seem blasé about it, and his transition from sickness to health is a delight. Petra Donnison is also well-grounded and true as the Countess, taking her being chauffeured on a Harley Davidson (ridden by Tanya Peijus) in her stride. And her varied relationships with Helena, Bertram, Lafew, Lavache et al are all clearly delineated.

As the willing decoy in the Bed Trick, Claudia Richards’ Diana is clearly in charge of her destiny – and Hilary Norris, as her Widowed mother, hits her narrative marks in high vaudevillian style.

Given the King grants Diana the right to pick her own husband, the (unscripted) decision to have her choose Lavache resolves their stories nicely. As for Lafew instructing Parolles, “wait on me home, I’ll make sport with thee” – we may make of that what we will.

Overall everyone commits to a high-energy ensemble performance and mostly the text, and so the story, comes over loud and clear. The design elements from Rob Ormsby, Anna Lowe and Russell Nelson (Set), Will Smith (Lighting) and Sylvia Gilbert-Potts (Head of Costume) add to the festive feel.

I should add that presenting it in a public square on a balmy summer’s eve does mean wide-eyed passers-by peer over the parapet or pause to watch from the steps – and this night a young couple with a child in a stroller avail themselves of the descending lift only to find they have to exit via the ‘stage’, earning a round of applause. The cast happily play up to such interventions with good judgement. 

_______________________________

For more production details, click on the title above. Go to Home page to see other Reviews, recent Comments and Forum postings (under Chat Back), and News.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

The choice of play for this year’s Summer Shakespeare is one of the Bard’s more challenging ones. All’s Well That Ends Well is often regarded as a dark comedy.  

Yet under the direction of Peter Hambleton, this year’s production has met the play’s challenges head on with a very spirited, highly energised and intelligent presentation of the play.

Moving away from the usual venue of The Dell, the setting is within the confines of the far corner of Civic Square under the City to Sea bridge, cleverly using the architecture of the structures, including the glass lift, to great effect. [More]

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer