Juliet and Her Romeo
Company of Ten, St Albans.
6th - 14th October 2017
Blogging isn’t what it used to
be. Reckon I am fed up with Brexit, (in or out anyone?) and a flat season on
the gee gees that has been awesome for its complete forgettability. And I have
been up to my inadequate arms in decorating. Not me personally, merely
supervising, but a friendly local professional who has been turning our house upside
down. Not literally even if, with Storm Ophelia currently doing her worst, it
seems like it. So that’s three excuses for dilatoriness and, given the non
existent will, I could add in a few more. But I shall not bother, other than to
say that a late discovering of Breaking
Bad has dwarfed much else this autumn. Seriously addictive, especially for
those who like well acted drama and moral dilemmas in abundance.
So it says something, a lot
really, that I dragged myself off to Company of Ten’s Juliet and Her Romeo the other Sunday afternoon. I rather like the
offerings they put in the studio and a Sunday matinee suits me fine. Welwyn’s
Barn Theatre do them but they clash with my Saturday afternoon racing and it
takes a combination of a must see play and dreary equine fare to tempt me out. The
horses usually win, even if not in betting terms. And Dunstable Rep still resists
this oldies route. I try to persuade but ears and deaf come to mind. So COT and
the Studio are the occasional treat. London Wall was terrific, ensemble
playing at its best in my sort of play, and Arthur Miller’s The Ride Down Mount Morgan almost as
good and blessed with an exceptional lead in Andy Mills. I did not get the same
vibes from this geriatric version of R and J but it was absorbing listening to
the faithful rendition of the text and constantly admiring the skill and
delivery of the actor portraying Romeo.
Geriatric? How rude. Misty red
eyes are probably still blazing in defence. Was it that awful you say? Did it
clunk until the wheels fell off? Did this reviewer fall into an afternoon
snore? Banish the picture folks. I have no wish to be unkind. This production
was literally, not theatrically, geriatric. Our Juliet and her Romeo are old
folks in a care home. As are the Tybalts, Mercutios, and Benvolios. The Verona
Care Home, no less. All very clever. And as director Angela Stone says in her
programme notes, this adaptation by Sean O’Connor and Tom Morris gives ageing
actors an opportunity most of them felt long past. They may not have teenage
youth but they have experience.
It does not totally work, mainly
because passions are naturally muted and anger diluted, but it had enough of
old Shakespeare and his crossed lover’s tale to entertain and engage. And on
Dennis O’Connell Baker’s simple but clever care home set and excellent
evocative modern music it all gelled pleasantly enough. Graham Boon was
absolutely superb as Romeo. I shall not guess at his age but I reckon the
Winter Fuel Allowance has long been in his back pocket. But he invested Romeo
and his lines with exquisite delivery and total believability. I got the
feeling that he may have first played the part many moons ago. If not he should
have done. No other performer seriously matched him but I had tons of
admiration for Rosemary Goodman, stepping in for an indisposed Juliet at the
last minute. An assured delivery which only rarely glanced at the book. Of the
others Tony Bradburn was a pleasant enough golf club type Tybalt, albeit
lacking in fire, Roy Bookham a bemused Benvolio, Andrew Baird an excellent
trendy Friar Lawrence, and Jacqui Golding a no nonsense nurse gathering her
care home charges like wandering sheep in need of penning. But the two
supporting roles which stood out for me were Dewi Williams' engaging and
disruptive Mercutio, beautiful rich voice and fun portrayal, and Peter Hale’s
totally believable Paris. Mr Hale had little to say, a wandering dementia
backdrop to the main drama, but he portrayed it with a realism which was
disturbing.
So there you have it folks. If it
all sounds a bit gimmicky, eighty year old Romeos, it probably was. But having
seen Hamlet in a spaceship, a mafia
version of Measure for Measure, and
an all female As You Like It in my
time, anything goes. If you don’t believe me tune into our dear old BBC. They
don’t do much that spins my dramatic juices these days but they have a
frivolous Shakespearian twirl with David Mitchell’s Upstart Crow. Do that and, seriously, anything, absolutely anything
goes with our Will.
Roy Hall
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