You should be warned: Camille is not going to make your
week. Theatre rarely gets more depressing than this - the age old story:
prostitute meets nice young man, learns how to love, is forced to leave
nice young man and then dies of tuberculosis. Any man can make a
sixteen-year-old virgin love him; but to win the love of a whore - that
is something worth doing. Weve heard it before, but this is
as close to Dumas original as things are likely to get, with a new
adaptation of La Dame aux camélias by the artistic director of
the Lyric, Neil Bartlett. Bartletts script is well crafted and remarkably
engaging - he strikes a good balance between colloquial language and a
more austere theatrical tone, and manages to mingle some humour in between
the many darker moments. The laughs may be few and far between, but the
wit certainly pervades the entire play.
This particular production was a bit of a mixed bag. Directed
by David McVicar, best known for his operatic work, the play was constructed
in broad strokes, rather than with the attention to detail which one might
expect. In some respects this worked well - the set was effective and
worked well with a variety of contrived set pieces, and the lighting was
never less than effective - but in others it left the play curiously without
impact. Several pivotal scenes slipped by rather quickly (as with the
crucial confrontation between Marguerite and her lovers father),
and there was a curious lack of balance in the play; not much happens
to start off with, then things rush by to fit the plot into the time.
The odd dramatic gesture also seemed rather out of place, as anyone seeing
the end of Act One will testify.
Daniela Nardini, the star attraction as Marguerite, was
very impressive, and lived up to her formidable reputation. She underplayed
the first act, but built up to an impressive climax (no pun intended)
by the end of the second. Dying on stage is never easy, and she managed
it with great sensitivity. Unfortunately she was let down by her love
interest, Elliot Cowan, who whined his way through the script, and lacked
any character development. The supporting cast were fine, and there was
a continuous expression of multiple talents (most characters played a
tricky piano piece at some point), but there were irritations in each
performance - Prudence, particularly, seemed to struggle to work out how
to shape the character. Frequent accent fluctuations throughout the cast
didnt help matters.
Not that I would recommend against this play - its
moving and thought provoking. Indeed, its one that really ought
to be seen. One just expects a bit more of a major touring London production.
Nardini makes things worthwhile, but dont expect to be overwhelmed.
Greg Sanderson, 20.05.03
|