Histories unconfined
Wednesday, May 7th, 2008Never mind the actors, what does it take to survive a marathon? Yesterday’s trilogy at the Round House was an endurance test for audiences as much as it was for the company themselves. I think they came off better. Where do they get their energy from? Nine hours, even when cut up into three hour chunks, with generous RSC titbits in between, takes some managing. As you get older you feel it more. By the time we were into Henry V1 part 2, I was shedding garments, not quite in the Nick de Jongh league perhaps but definitely feeling the heat.
`I’m wilting’, I confessed to colleagues as if admitting to some dark and shameful secret. Later one or two others agreed. But admitting your’re wilting is like letting yourself down. You’re not supposed to actually admit to finding it physically difficult. Enduring a theatre marathon is a question of machismo for audience as well as performers. (Tip for the future: eat sparingly, take little walks, avoid alcohol).
Mind you, as someone who’s just swum through the winter outside, I don’t feel I have to prove anything. Perhaps, then, I’ve become more accustomed to three degrees above freezing than 33 above. But as the temperature rose at Chalk Farm, in all senses, it was a case of sticking it out or losing face.
And in the case of Michael Boyd’s Histories, why wouldn’t you? They are a magnificent achievement, even better at the Round House which proves even more perfect for the production’s aerial flourishes and rope dangling than Stratford’s Courtyard. English imperialism at its most brutal and manifest lessons for today in political ambition. We never seem to learn. Lots of professional swagger on show here and machismo belching. But here’s a thing. Last time I saw it in Stratford, I was not certain what Katy Stephens was up to as Margaret Anjou. Yesterday, I realised; she was doing a Bette Davis – red lipstick and figure-clinging grey frock and all; one woman alone in a sea of strutting stags being forced to stand her ground. And here’s an interesting thought. Males when butchering become warriors, war heroes; a female revenging her cub becomes a monster.