As You Like It
Directed by Maria Aberg

Royal Shakespeare Theatre
Until 28^th September

Reviewed on the 18^th April 2013 by Luke Taylor age 18

Wrestling, lust, music! What’s not to love about Aberg’s As You Like It. A performance abounding in naughty references, Shakespeare’s As You Like It does not disappoint. The RSC’s bravura performance questions As You Like It’s reputation of being an uncompleted version of 12^TH Night.  Aberg successfully modernises the traditional comedy but still maintains the sexual ambiguity in a haughty rendition, which leaves the audience falling in love with the idyllic forest of Arden.

From the tragedy-esque beginning that leaves the audience on the edge of their seat to the perfect party ending, As You Like It fires on all cylinders. This capricious court features a monotonous heartbeat thumping as the gallant Orlando finds himself successfully beating the wrestler Charles. In comparison to the idyllic forest of Arden where liberation occurs as they ‘fleet the time carelessly’, and through all of this Aberg’s directing is unmistakably successful.  Her interpretation of the capricious court in which Rosalind and Celia find themselves creates unnerving tension as the stage lights create an emphatic effect. This effect is used throughout the court scenes and creates an unnerving aura, making the audience relate to the protagonist’s want to escape Duke Fredrick’s despot. Heroine Rosalind is then banished by Duke Fredrick but not before she has stolen Orlando’s heart in what the audience determines as love at first sight. Rosalind and Celia then go in disguises of Ganymede and Aliena, apt names for the sexual antics that take place in forest. Love struck Orlando then follows suit after agreeing to take perennial servant Adam along with him. It is at this point that the stage is transformed from the repressive court to the magical, idyllic forest of Arden, where characters experience liberation.

The staging really is very impressive as the audience find themselves in a hippy camp where characters in essence compete against nature for survival. Celia from here on in takes much more of a back seat which is a shame as her quirky nature evokes much laughter. Orlando and Rosalind are then reunited, however with Rosalind dressed as Ganymede, which results in Rosalind being able to test her lover through wit, wordplay and repartee. Through this relationship both characters explore sexuality with continuous support from the clown Touchstone, much to the amusement of the audience.  We are then introduced to varying amounts of mis fit characters that each experience their own trials in the forest. The play, with out spoiling too much, ends, as is typical of a comedy endings, happily.

A special mention must be made to the director of the music Laura Marling. While the set design is incredible, it is complemented by the songs, which heavily feature the play.  Other productions that I have watched have interrupted the songs in a very rustic way with a single acoustic guitar and a sombre voice. Marling completely reinvents this tradition by having a full folk-like band performing songs, which the audience can’t help but join in with.  Marling’s melodies instil this idyllic view of the forest and further this feel good vibe that makes the play so enjoyable.

To conclude if you would like an easy watch, where your not afraid to laugh at the numerous sexual innuendos, that ends on an uplifting, happy note I couldn’t recommend a better play. Aberg has done an excellent interpretation of a play that has the potential to be quite repetitive and therefore deserves to be extolled.

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The Winter’s Tale reminds us how much we need Theatre

The Winter's Tale
Directed by Lucy Bailey
On UK tour from 13 March - 20 April

Review by Jake McBride

Things have certainly been quite wintry for the Arts lately as the cuts continue to bite and theatres across the country lose out on funding. The gap between rich and poor looks as wide as ever and with the highs of 2012 over, there doesn’t seem to be as much to celebrate.

What better opportunity, then, but to sit back and bask in The Winter’s Tale, a play that reminds us just how much we need stories and theatre, even more so when times are tough. What the government perhaps doesn’t realise is that the harder the times are, we need theatre more than ever, not less, and Shakespeare’s play provides the perfect lesson in teaching us how art is equally capable of creating life, as life is of making art. Resolutely defying the realistic and all barriers of time, it takes us into a world of magic and romance, music and dance, thunderous oracles and stormy seas, sheep-shearing and man-eating bears. It broadly opens up the possibilities of theatre, and in turn, the possibilities of our imagination, offering us the chance to meet “with things newborn”.

Director Lucy Bailey certainly rises to that challenge with the RSC’s latest production. She is all too aware that The Winter’s Tale is exactly the sort of theatre that’s needed for hard times, grounding her production in two kingdoms that are separated primarily by class. Set in the 1860’s, the play begins with the rich Pre-Raphaelite Sicilia, before moving to a Bohemia as an industrial Lancashire sea resort sixteen years later. But the luxurious veneer of Sicilia is deceiving; it’s not long before the colourful and exotic rugs that had warmed the stage during the first act are swept away and a stark, distinctly chilling atmosphere pervades the theatre, particularly through the screen that acts as the visual backdrop of the set. Prisoners bound and gagged are thrown down along the gangways while an executioner stands ominously, sword in hand, at the centre of the stage. Leontes (played by Jo Stone-Fewings), struck seemingly from nowhere by a deep suspicion that his wife (Tara Fitzgerald) is having an affair with his friend Polixenes (Adam Levy), lets his jealousy turn him into a tyrant, destroying his closest relationships and the idyllic lifestyle they had built and shared together.

It’s not among the rich that happiness and a passion for life is to be found. The shepherds (or rather, fishermen, as they are here) of Bohemia don’t have much but they certainly make the most of it. The stage comes alive with Morris dancing, accordion-playing and Pearce Quigley as the pedlar Autolycus, swindling as many laughs from the audience through his dry delivery as he does purses from unsuspecting pockets. It’s a place free from the bitterness and envy of government, and even when Polixenes temporarily spoils the fun, it’s only after he has been pushed through a sewer and had his clothes soiled. The harsh realities of the world are never completely brushed to one side – the penitential figure of Leontes remains visible throughout, stuck at the top of a magnificent tower rising out of the stage, brilliantly designed by William Dudley. Yet the figure of Perdita (Emma Noakes) brings him back down to earth and reconciles both worlds, rich and poor, restoring warmth to what was cold before. The play ends by quite literally bringing art to life before our eyes, showing us humanity in all its fullness and how important it is that, unlike Leontes, we never lose sight of that.

Like the holidaying shepherds, the play offers only a brief respite from the pressures of work and reality, but it brings a ray of sunshine back into our everyday lives to help dispel the wintry gloom and offer hope of new things. Even at a time when little money is going around, Bailey’s production of The Winter’s Tale in particular shows us that it’s not money we need in order to have a good time and to tell a great story. All you have to do, as Paulina says, is “awake your faith” and be prepared to resolve yourself “For more amazement”.

The Winter's Tale is on UK tour from 13 March 2013

Photos courtesy of RSC, Sheila Burnett

A Life of Galileo

Bertolt Brecht, translated by Mark Ravenhill. 

Directed by Roxana Silbert 

Swan Theatre,

Until 30 March 2013

 

Reviewed on 13th February 2013 by Alice Leake age 24

A Life of Galileo by Bertolt Brecht, translated by Mark Ravenhill.  Directed by Roxana Silbert at the RSC Swan Theatre, 13th February 2013.

The current RSC season takes a look at what else was going on in the world during Shakespeare’s lifetime, A Life of Galileo is the Italian input into this “World Elsewhere” theme. The play is in essence a debate between scientific logic and religious faith.  An enjoyable, light hearted and humorous script devised by Mark Ravenhill and Roxana Silbert’s lively direction have the audience captivated from the word go.  Galileo believes that fact based research and development is key to human advancement, whereas the church considers these issues less important than giving people a purpose in life, as faith does.  The church argues that science irresponsibly draws us away from humanity by quashing religions legitimacy, thereby leaving humans on a par with animals.  With debates on issues such as IVF, abortion and euthanasia constantly in and out of the headlines, this question of science’s social responsibility resonates with modern day audiences.  The majority of people in Britain accept that science is factual and those that are religious generally come to terms with this by marrying the two together.  However, in America there are still schools that teach religion in science lessons, so the idea “God created the world, Adam and Eve and everything we see” is readily received as fact.  A Life of Galileo dramatises this debate by focusing on Galileo’s struggle to publish work that would contradict biblical teachings on the cosmos.  After evading the church’s powerful autonomy for years, he is eventually branded a heretic, caught and forced to recant his findings.  This plot proves extremely interesting.  Viewing Galileo’s personal story gives the play depth and we learn about the origins of scientific theories we now take for granted.   

Mark Ravenhill has translated Brecht’s play wonderfully, it is witty and engaging and he has given director Roxana Silbert the means to create a production that feels fresh and playful.  The direction is full of contrasts that keep the audience on their toes - one moment involving them directly, the next leaving them a fly on the wall.  We get off to a brilliant start as actor Ian McDiarmid (Galileo) introduces the first scene through a large red microphone; his booming voice is accompanied by LED light strips that flash the key words above the stage and along the balconies, a real credit to lighting designer Rick Fisher.  This method of introducing new scenes was repeated by other members of the cast throughout the play and was crucial to the audiences understanding as the modern and abstract sets did little to convey a time and place.  However, this is not a criticism, designer Tom Scutt has done the production justice by allowing the audience room for imagination.  The visual impact of large sheets of bright blue graph paper cascading down from the orchestra balcony left a strong first impression on entering the theatre and his modern costumes complimented the show by helping the audience to keep the play’s contemporary connotations in mind. 

In terms of execution Jodie McNee (Galileo’s daughter) was excellent.  In the scene where she waited to hear if her father would recant, her frantic prayers had many of the audience fighting back tears.  Philip Whitchurch’s performance also stood out, his comic timing was superb as ever.  In one scene, Whitchurch compelled the audience to enjoy the surreal onslaught of a song that had the cast raucously stomping around the stage in bizarre makeup and costumes, bouncing on gym balls and wheeling hoola-hoops crying “who doesn’t want to be their own master”.   The real genius of this piece though, was the scintillating performance of Ian McDiarmid as Galileo.  At times he was full of dry wit, mischievous and petulant but as the play progressed and the church began to persecute Galileo, he showed a man whose spirit had been broken but not lost its rambunctious core.  I was deeply impressed by his surprising and charismatic performance, throughout the play he undulated with a turbulence of emotions that brought the character to life and enchanted the audience.  His acting actually over shadowed a few of the other performers who seemed a little over rehearsed in comparison.

However, overall this play really delivered.  The RSC have managed to create a Galileo that the audience can relate to, a thought provoking and touching interpretation that at times had the audience on the edge of their seat.  This, plus lashings of theatrics made for a deliciously entertaining show that should not be missed.  You can catch it in Stratford-Upon-Avon from now until the 30th March.

We asked you on Twitter and Facebook what you would like to ask an actor. Lots of you replied with fantastic questions and you can see Thomas's replies below -

I was asked to answer some questions. When I was asked, I said, “Okay. But please, I don’t want to come across as some know- it- all actor who’s full of anecdotes. I know nowt really. So I’ve answered these as honestly and sometimes as naively as my first thought after reading them…

How did you get a role in an RSC production?
I was on a Scottish beach with my parents and our dog. Agent rang. I bombed it down to London dead quick. I read the play and learnt a bit from Act Three of Merry Wives, the bit where Simple finds Falstaff in the pub. I met with Philip Breen, the director and Helena Palmer, the casting director. It was all really relaxed and we had a bit of a laugh. At that point, I was unaware I’d also be auditioning for The Mouse and his Child but I did, a couple of days later. That audition was in the same room, with Paul Hunter and Helena Palmer. Paul and I had a conversation but I wasn’t allowed to use the letter ‘P’. That was a good indication of what the following fourteen weeks would be like! 

It's common knowledge it's a difficult business, and that it takes time, commitment and courage to succeed. On the 'not so good days' or after auditions which maybe didn't go so well, How do you pick yourself up and re-motivate yourself?
As long as you’re prepared, polite and passionate then pretty much everything else is out of your hands. So much is down to an image in a director’s head. There are loads of extraneous factors which can determine whether you get the job or not. If you do your best, it’s so often not about ability. That’s a comfort because there’s very little you can do about the other things.

Did you find it a daunting (as well as exciting!) prospect to be working with the RSC?
Aye. It was peculiar though because I have nothing to compare it to. It was all a whirlwind for about the first month. It’s a really welcoming, accommodating and exciting place to be. Everyone- the cast and crew, the lasses in the green room, Tony the tour guide- are proper salt of the Earth folk. I’ve learnt something new every day.
How do you go about learning the iambic pentameter rhythm with the hope of it eventually being instinctive and not having to think about it?

I always remember that Shakespeare isn’t meant to be read, it’s meant to spoken and heard. So Shakespeare wrote in a way which made it accessible for his actors to speak with as much ease as possible. It mimics the way we speak naturally. There aren’t any rules to Shakespeare. That’s important. Don’t let it bog you down. The iambic and all that other stuff has never really got me all worried because it’s all there to help and not hinder. How Shakespeare writes, it offers a tool kit to the actor. It allows us information on the emotion of the character, the purpose of the speech- you know, all that nitty gritty acting stuff, it’s all there- weaved in the words and the structure. It’s about a positive mind. Don’t be afraid of it. Don’t just read it off the page because then it’s very easy for it all to be minimised. They aren’t just words. They are human emotions. So what do they do to your body? How do they make you feel? Get up and move. Tap the rhythm on a surface. Beat it out with your feet.  It’ll be interesting which words fall on the beat and the possibilities it opens as an actor. Use what’s written and then be creative. It’s a collaboration between Shakespeare and you, the person who’s embodying his words.

How has performing with the RSC affected your work/work ethic?
Coming straight out of drama school, I’m still in the habit of getting up early and doing all them warm up exercises and stuff. Some aspects, a lot of aspects have been really familiar. What’s interesting is the fact that I’m working with people- and they might hate to read this- that are old enough to be my parents. Drama school’s not like that, yeah, there’s a span of ages but on the whole there’s a lot of early to middle twenty year olds. So that’s a nice dynamic, working with these people who’ve got CVs as long as a basketball player’s arms. The Mouse and his Child has been a lot of playing, dossing about with balls and bric-a-bric in a room in Clapham. These are grown men and women, with mortgages and kids and weekly ASDA shops and all that stuff. They are big kids- talented, creative people who’ve never lost the three year old version of themselves and the work that attitude produces is awesome. There’s something about that which is really inspiring.

Which Shakespeare role as he found the most challenging role to perform so far and which is his favorite one to perform if different?

I’ve barely played any. I did Polixenes in The Winter’s Tale at drama school. It’s a fantastic play. It was a situation where I wasn’t cast perfectly. I mean, Polixenes is meant to be this sophisticated, powerful charming gent. However hard I tried I was still this gangly nineteen year old, incapable of growing facial hair. It makes me laugh that Leontes is paranoid that Polixenes is having an affair with his wife Hermione. There wasn’t a hope in hell that the girl playing Hermione would’ve found me any more attractive than a little brother with a snotty nose. Anyway, it was a good experience. I’d like to play the clown character in that play, the Shepherd’s son. I’d also like to have a crack at Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Fool in King Lear. Iago from Othello has always interested me, especially if it was in a production like Frantic Assembly’s at the Lowry in Manchester about four years ago.  As a young man, I’m drawn to Hamlet. In the same tormented- young man –way, I’ve always wanted to play Giovanni in ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore. That’s not Shakespeare, it’s John Ford. Proper good play. I started to read Shakespeare’s sonnets a bit back. They’re superb. They are like verses from a rap song. I’d love to have the opportunity to bring them to life.

To a young person who dreams of becoming an actor but doesn't know what sort of training to pursue - what would you advise?

I only know one sort. I went to drama school. Of course there’re other ways of going about it but speaking completely personally, I really doubt I’d be with the RSC if it wasn’t for drama school. I knew no-one. No casting people, no directors. Not even the names of many theatres. Drama school was a way of channeling all this energy I had as a boisterous, naïve, eyes wide open puppy from the hills of Lancashire in to various tools I could use. It gave me the opportunity to meet people too, that’s invaluable.

What is his LEAST favourite Shakespeare. The one he'd tell Shakespeare not to write if he could?

To be fair, I don’t know enough to make a proper answer. I’d say though that in every single Shakespeare play there are elements which are politically, socially and  emotionally forceful. I mean, look at The Merry Wives of Windsor. It has a bit of a reputation of being hastily put together at the request of the queen and all that. There aren’t many thesis written on that play like there are about Hamlet or Lear. However, it’s a play about families, masculinity, racism and airs and graces in suburbia. It’s not too unlike a sitcom. It might be a bit of a leap in comparison but I reckon it’s voyeuristic in the same way as Made in Chelsea and all that clap trap is popular at the moment. It’s a peep in to the workings of relationships. It’s reality. So yeah, at first it doesn’t seem very intellectual and perhaps it isn’t, I don’t know, but it offers something. They all do. All his pieces do. Well, the one’s I’ve read and seen do.

Read Thomas's other blog for the RSC Key below or his other RSC blogs here

You can also follow Thomas Pickles on Twitter @thomas_pickles_

Images
Thomas Pickles and Anita Dobson in The Merry Wives of Windsor photo by Pete Le May and Thomas Pickles and the cast of The Mouse and his Child photo by Keith Pattison.

 

I’ve barely wanted to blink, to be honest.
Thomas Pickles, actor in the RSC Winter Season

Yeah, this last fortnight, I’ve been on loads of occasions walking around the RST with eyes wide, jaw dropped and brain processing the reality of something which, to sound completely like a clichéd X Factor contestant, I’ve dreamt a lot about.

 

I’m Thomas and I’m part of the cast of The Merry Wives of Windsor and The Mouse and his Child. I left Rose Bruford College of Theatre and Performance in July just gone and so this is my first professional job. Having left Rose Bruford with an agent, I had a few auditions. I was testing the water, meeting people, well aware I was fresh to it all. I had a kind of excited naivety. I still very much do.

Anyway, I was up on the west coast of Scotland in July with my parents when I got a phone call. In big capital letters my screen said, AMANDA HOWARD ASSOCIATES. My tummy turns in to a butterfly farm whenever I see that. Five minutes later, my parents were stood opposite me, the three of us and our dog stood on a secluded Scottish beach. As we walked along the whispering shore, I started to relay the conversation I’d just had on the phone.

“The Royal Shakespeare Company want to see me in London.” After finally finding a book shop, I bought a copy of The Merry Wives of Windsor and set off to Carlisle. From there I’d go to London and to Earlham Street to meet director Phillip Breen and casting director Helena Palmer. It was all a hectic, excitable rush which, when I’m typing this now, makes the memory stunningly stronger.

There’re two of us for which this season with the RSC is our first professional job. There are two others who left drama school at the same time as Calum and I and for Paapa and Obioma, this is their second job. We share a dressing room and we all know there’s a magic to this place- it’s everywhere whether that be in the headshots of the esteemed actors which adorn the walls of The Dirty Duck pub, or seeing our names typed on tags and stitched in to fluffy white towels, or the amount of people available, equipped and committed to creating top class theatre or simply- well, just there’s a definite magic in the sheer beauty of Stratford-upon-Avon.

I was told when I got the role that the RSC is a fantastic place for a first job and that it would be a brilliant place for a young actor to learn. Of course, that’s completely true. I’m taking a magpie approach to everything and trying to learn all the shiny bits from the proper good actors around me. You know, soaking it all in like a big soggy sponge- with head right up and eyes wide open.

Dreaming with eyes open.

Review - Much Ado About Nothing

By Zoe Apostolides

The Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon

Until 15 September

Noël Coward Theatre, London

24 September - 27 October

What’s immediately obvious, as one steps into the Courtyard’s foyer, is the bustle and energy so important to a play which pivots upon the effects of eavesdropping, rumour, and - as suggested by the title - ‘noting’ that which is so often misheard or misunderstood. Making my way through to the stalls, I caught snippets of conversation, lines of speech, all removed from their context and therefore meaningless to me, and was brought back to this experience time and again as it was mirrored on the stage. The blare of car-horns, the screech of wheels, and the shouts of street-sellers welcome audiences into a chaotic vibrancy which challenges us to attempt to drown it out or to ignore it. The cast directly calls its audience to witness, constructing the set amidst the incoherent chitchat before the action, as it were, has even begun. The RSC have transplanted modern-day Delhi onto its boards as neatly as the characters in Shakespeare’s play transform the inconsequential into life-changing dramas, and boy, is it worth the journey.

Wary of focussing exclusively on Tom Piper’s set design, I will admit it did initially make me a little suspicious of elaborate attempts to hide inadequacies within the production itself and, for the most part, such fears were completely unnecessary. Iqbal Khan’s interpretation bubbles over with life, hysterically hyperbolic yet managing to convey and retain the quieter subtleties of the text. As with Two Gents and As You Like It, Much Ado is a comedy which leaves much forebodingly unanswered: as the two pairs of lovers walk happily into the sunset, the tears and troubles of three short scenes ago clamour for attention, and Khan insists we recognise such ambiguities within Shakespeare’s text.

Amara Karan was a particularly impressive Hero, bringing forth the character’s inevitable obedience and submission, yet also her outspoken and eager nature - a novel exploration. Karan manages to embody the problems of engineered love and the necessity for female chastity, which make this particular play so fitted to its setting. Paul Bhattacharjee also works well as the lad-about-town Benedick, shunning society’s compulsion to find him a suitable bride whilst hinting that he is, in fact, all too aware that his beloved is right before his eyes. Beatrice has no such insight: Meera Syal works fantastically as a sort of Indian Emma Woodhouse, a formidable sasstress whose banter seems set to tip over into insult at every pacy exchange with Bhattacharjee. Syal brings to Beatrice - undeniably one of the most difficult Shakespearean roles - a thoughtfulness and interiority; her claim that “there was a star danced, and under that was I born”, seems at odds with moments in which this vivacity was lost to Hero’s dilemma which, though it may be given more textual time is much more a sub-plot to the passionate B’n’B fusion we’re all waiting for. The deepening of this most central relationship is nonetheless affectionately portrayed as the couple swing from the branch of a tree entwined with cables and electrical wires, spinning themselves deeper into the net that eventually enmeshes the entire cast.

My only real criticism of the production stems from a very occasional clumsiness through over-emphasised puns or gestures; there’s a sense that with each production the company as a whole will jel more fluidly. Many critics have similarly complained of the play’s lengthy second half (the whole running at three hours and fifteen minutes), and yet the directorial decision to leave the text unedited reflects the very nature of Much Ado itself: a complete refusal to find resolution, and a tedious portrayal of, to borrow from the novelist Donna Tartt, ‘the extravagance of tricks’. This not a comfortable work, it is as awkward in execution as it is in content, and it relies on the complicity of discomfort in its audience. The courtship of Hero and Claudius has been marred by false accusation, and the final scene offers only the glimmers of a relationship enjoyed by Beatrice and Benedick. Such contrasts are wonderfully elicited by the frequent musical interludes from the on-stage live band, setting a pitch-perfect mood of jubilation or menace: whichever is called for.

There were moments I found myself wondering what Will would’ve made of it all, and can well imagine him appreciating both the rip-roaring humour of this piece, before calling at times for a bit of quiet. Perhaps that’s the essence of Much Ado; if so, Khan’s offering to the 2012 World Shakespeare Festival brings just that - the world, and its noise, chaos, bustle, sadness and humour- to Stratford.

As our next two international productions open in Stratford-upon-Avon (Troilus and Cressida and A Midsummer Night's Dream (As You Like It)) read the review of Two Roses for Richard III on earlier this year by RSC Key member Beth Timmins.

Review - Two Roses for Richard III

By Beth Timmins

Two Roses for Richard III opens with thundering drums. The Brazilian Companhia set the scene with a dramatically lit Richard III in a grotesque looking hog’s head centre stage at The Courtyard Theatre.

Companhia Bufomecânica perform the play in Portuguese. The production is brought to the UK by the RSC as part of the World Shakespeare festival and is a wonderful representation of how Shakespeare's plays permeate the imaginations of people all over the world.

To see the show is to celebrate the Shakespeare's work on a global scale and enjoy the novel experience of a watching a play in a foreign language. The moments where the actors speak English, such as when they complain about the labour of dying on stage, become more humorous when set alongside the vividly passionate scenes in Portuguese. Two Roses for Richard III  is the first surtitled play I have ever seen and I did find that knowledge of the play beforehand is useful as it allows you to concentrate fully on the performance aspects. The show is so visually stunning that you find yourself drawn to the richness of the performance rather than reading the subtitles so I found it was better to be familiar with the play.

The combination of theatre, aerial and circus skills is Co-director Cláudio Baltar’s invention. Elements of his work with the famous punk-circus creators Archaos, are present in the stunning formations of the play’s most powerful images. A favourite example is where Richard III rises on the throne in mid air, looking down on his subjects and another really effective use of the aerial skills was when Richard was haunted by the ghosts of his past in the nightmare preceding the Battle of Bosworth. As Richard stands centre stage, the ghosts eerily surround him while being suspended above him in almost lifeless contortions.

Another innovative approach was the idea of sharing the role of Richard between each actor in the company, meaning that the sense of Richard's malice breeds physically as well as developing throughout the plot. This is especially true in the instances where Richard is played simultaneously by the actors, the record being the part played by five on stage at once. The video camera and use of film projections also works to focus the audience’s attention on the acting.

The costumes are truly a feast for the eye with the courtiers wearing fantastically expressive heads made of sacks and the original use of set is astounding when watching the spectacle of Clarence's death, swirling up high as her murders grasp to get her. The choreography of the dance routines is also very entertaining, especially in the moments where Queen Margaret features as a figure of black amongst the jocundity of the other characters who dance to live rock music, giving the production a contemporary outlook.

To watch Two Roses for Richard III is to treat yourself to an inventive take on Shakespeare’s classic. Seeing the performance in Portuguese gives an added potency to the turmoil of emotions in the play and the astonishing visual aspects are a powerful way to display them.