The RSC Histories cycle: final thoughts
What an exhausting but at the same time thrilling experience it has been. The quality of the productions has been consistently high, with some better than others, but not a bad one among them. It seems that the RSC has emerged reenergized from the Complete Works festival, and that the ensemble idea is not only a winning concept, but one that is back to stay. Before the start of the last play on Sunday, Michael Boyd held a talk where he revealed that a new ensemble, on a similarly long term commitment, will be coming in in January and that there are already plans for the ensemble to come after that one, which will be onboard for the festival that they’ve got planned for 2012.
It’s been draining, but at the same time it feels a bit sad that it’s come to an end, and personally I wouldn’t mind seeing it all over again, but that’s not to be. There are so many things that I’ll take with me from the complete cycle, from the big themes to the little gems that sparkled unexpectedly and etched themselves into my memory for a long time to come. (spoilers coming up)
There were so many good moments in this one, and looking back I see that I was so rushed in writing the blog that I had to leave out many of the performances that deserved special mention, so I’d like to list them here now that I have the time, here it goes:
Keith Dunphy’s hilariously simple-minded Nym, Matt Costain’s acrobatic comedy act during the end of the interval of 2H4, Anthony Shuster’s reaction as his Green has his earring torn out in R2, David Warner’s refined yet shamelessly depraved Falstaff, the look on the face of Clive Wood’s H4 at the end of R2, Geoffrey Streatfeild’s Hal gently tucking in the sleeping Falstaff at the end of the tavern scene (I did like that aspect of Hal), the sheer viciousness when Jonathan Slinger’s Fluellen makes Pistol eat the leek, John Mackay’s beautifully unhinged Jack Cade, the sparks that fly between Katy Stephens’s Margaret and Geoffrey Streatfeild’s Suffolk, John Mackay’s languid Dauphin in that curly blond whig, Jonathan Slinger’s hissing snake of a Hume, Chuk Iwuji’s innocent yet knowing H6, the dignity of Maureen Beattie’s Duchess of Gloucester on her way to exile, Alexia Healy’s Princess Katherine wanting to ask about the English name for an altogether different part of the female anatomy, and that moment in 1H6 after the plodding start to it, when Keith Bartlett and Lex Shrapnel as the Talbots finally make the verse soar . I’m sure that I’m forgetting some of them, which is a shame, but these are the ones that really stand out.
I’ve held back in rating these plays so far, as I thought it might be a bit unfair to do so without some sort of point of reference. I know that it must at times have sounded as if I had major gripes about some of these, but I tend to be very hard to please, so I practically always have things to complain about. Let me just say, as a comparison, that lately I only gave 2.5 stars to the Donmar’s Othello and no more than 3.5 stars to the London transfer of the Goold/Stewart Macbeth, and that I quite often hand out no more than 1 or 2 stars. But these were all good, ranging from 3.5 to a very rare 5 stars, and here’s the final tally:
R2 – 5 stars without hesitation. I can hardly remember a time when I’ve been so blown away by a production - hardly a thing to fault in it - or an individual performance like I was by Slinger’s R2. Words almost fail me, and that is rare indeed.
2H4, 3H6, R3 – 4 stars each. Very, very good all of them, despite my personal reservations about some aspects.
1H4, 1H6, 2H6, H5 – all of them rate as 3.5 for me, and any of them would be worth seeing.
I have to say that I’m somewhat mystified that this production of R2 won’t be getting an extended London run of its own, as it’s by far the best one of the lot, a practically definitive version of that play, and one that should be able to fill any London theatre for a long time. As it is, there are only a handful of performances in London, and given that people spent an unbelievable amount of money on ebay for tickets to see Ewan McGregor’s mediocre performance in Othello, and quite a bit on Patrick Stewart’s just about adequate interpretation of Macbeth, I have to say that if there’s any kind of appreciation for quality in this world, then London tickets for R2 should be as precious as gold dust.
I don’t normally encourage people to behave immorally, but if you have any chance at all to get hold of a ticket for R2, including begging, lying or stealing a ticket from your dying mother, then you ought to do so, as this is one production that will be referred to in years to come, and one that you’ll be repeatedly kicking yourself about missing. Those of you that have tickets to the complete chronological cycle that will mark the end of the season at the Roundhouse are in for a treat. When will we see a project on this scale again? Probably not for another lifetime, as this has been one truly unique undertaking.
This has been one Glorious Moment indeed.
//Jenny
