July 15, 2009
As we walk into the auditorium we see a man (the Friar) kneeling and praying, with his back to us, at a long, dominant altar, which stands in front of a huge gold cross. Religion and repression, two of this play’s strong themes, are immediately thrown at us. When the story begins, already there is a high level of passionate desperation as the Friar tries to convince young Giovanni not to follow his heart and declare his love for his sister. They argue, both of them almost in tears with frustration at the other’s inability to grasp the power or consequences of the situation. Giovanni will not give in. He goes, leaving the Friar to lament the unstoppable tragedy that will surely come soon. And this wonderful play has only been going for five minutes!
This is a brave production of a notoriously difficult play. It is played with only the long narrow altar and a solitary chair for furniture, very few props, and the staging works well, using all areas of the theatre inventively, and keeping up a relentless pace towards its inevitable, devastating ending. We find that Annabella, Giovanni’s sister (always dressed in pure, simple white), loves him too but had never admitted it before. However, their father has promised Annabella as bride to Soranzo, a wealthy, eligible, but emotionally selfish man. Hippolita, Soranzo’s former lover, is furious to hear of the proposed marriage and plans to kill Soranzo, with the help of his servant, Vasques. But Vasques, surely one of the most evil characters ever to be written, betrays her, and the interval arrives as Hippolita dies, poisoned on Soranzo and Annabella’s wedding day by drinking the wine which was meant for him.
After the interval the story quickly moves towards its terrible conclusion. By the end, five of the play’s ten characters are dead, and a sixth, already blinded, will be burned alive, with a seventh banished from Italy forever.
Ah, Italy. Why did John Ford set the play there? I think it was because of the power of the church, and the hot-blooded passion of the people. And that is where I have a problem with this production. Ben Baxter’s Giovanni is so English that when emotional anguish or fury emerges he has trouble capturing it, and veers towards indulgence. Matthew Fell’s Soranzo breaks up the verse and often obscured the meaning of what he is saying, and Sara Danesh-Pour skates over the language at such speed that I was left behind regularly. Ailsa Joy as Annabella found simplicity and truth, and I believed that she was prepared to die rather than compromise her true love.
The directing (Sue Baxter and Alexander Rogers) is sharp and good, using clean lines and simple shapes, and desecrating the altar beautifully near the end of the play. Short piano pieces link the scenes nicely, though some of the musical choices jarred, and though I wanted darker, more moody lighting, this was a technically excellent show.
StopGap’s first production, mounted in a short time, has a lot going for it, and deserves to be seen, but will need more focus and passion to give its audience the emotional wringing out that it ought to. On the first night there was a lot of shouting and wailing, but little real sense of despair or fury.
This is a brave production of a notoriously difficult play. It is played with only the long narrow altar and a solitary chair for furniture, very few props, and the staging works well, using all areas of the theatre inventively, and keeping up a relentless pace towards its inevitable, devastating ending. We find that Annabella, Giovanni’s sister (always dressed in pure, simple white), loves him too but had never admitted it before. However, their father has promised Annabella as bride to Soranzo, a wealthy, eligible, but emotionally selfish man. Hippolita, Soranzo’s former lover, is furious to hear of the proposed marriage and plans to kill Soranzo, with the help of his servant, Vasques. But Vasques, surely one of the most evil characters ever to be written, betrays her, and the interval arrives as Hippolita dies, poisoned on Soranzo and Annabella’s wedding day by drinking the wine which was meant for him.
After the interval the story quickly moves towards its terrible conclusion. By the end, five of the play’s ten characters are dead, and a sixth, already blinded, will be burned alive, with a seventh banished from Italy forever.
Ah, Italy. Why did John Ford set the play there? I think it was because of the power of the church, and the hot-blooded passion of the people. And that is where I have a problem with this production. Ben Baxter’s Giovanni is so English that when emotional anguish or fury emerges he has trouble capturing it, and veers towards indulgence. Matthew Fell’s Soranzo breaks up the verse and often obscured the meaning of what he is saying, and Sara Danesh-Pour skates over the language at such speed that I was left behind regularly. Ailsa Joy as Annabella found simplicity and truth, and I believed that she was prepared to die rather than compromise her true love.
The directing (Sue Baxter and Alexander Rogers) is sharp and good, using clean lines and simple shapes, and desecrating the altar beautifully near the end of the play. Short piano pieces link the scenes nicely, though some of the musical choices jarred, and though I wanted darker, more moody lighting, this was a technically excellent show.
StopGap’s first production, mounted in a short time, has a lot going for it, and deserves to be seen, but will need more focus and passion to give its audience the emotional wringing out that it ought to. On the first night there was a lot of shouting and wailing, but little real sense of despair or fury.