Showing posts with label Henry V. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henry V. Show all posts

16/12/2014

2014, the verdict

THEATRE

Event(s) of the Year
The Seagull – STCSA, Adelaide Festival
Tartuffe; Henry V Bell Shakespeare
William Shakespeare’s Reservoir Dogs – Russall S. Beattie at The Vanguard
Children of the Sun – Sydney Theatre Company
Once – Melbourne Theatre Company, Gordon/Frost

Honourable Mention
On The Shore of the Wide World – Pantsguys & Griffin Independent
Noises Off; Switzerland – Sydney Theatre Company
Jump for Jordan – Griffin Theatre Company
Platonov – ATYP, MopHead & Catnip Productions
The Legend of King O’Malley – Don’t Look Away
Sweeney Todd – New Theatre
A Streetcar Named Desire – Young Vic (NTLive)

Dishonourable Mention
Cain and Abel – THE RABBLE, Belvoir
Hedda Gabler – Belvoir
Nora – Belvoir
Oedipus Rex – Belvoir
Rupert – Melbourne Theatre Company, David Sparrow Productions
Truth, Beauty and A Picture of YouHayes Theatre Company

Best (New) Play
Jump for Jordan, Donna Abela
The Effect, Lucy Prebble
Procne & Tereus, Saro Lusty-Cavallari
Joan, Again, Paul Gilchrist

Shakesproud
Henry V (dir. Damien Ryan)
All’s Well That Ends Well (dir. Damien Ryan)
Richard III (dir. Mark Kilmurry)

The Red Curtain Award for Most Prodigious Use of Red Curtains
Baz Luhrmann, Catherine Martin & Co. – Strictly Ballroom The Musical

The Most Restrained Deployment of Trademark Style
Benedict Andrews, A Streetcar Named Desire (Young Vic; NTLive)



29/10/2014

Band of brothers: Bell Shakespeare’s Henry V

Synonymous with British patriotism, Shakespeare’s Henry V is a play full of contradictions and ambiguities, powerful rhetoric and hollow promises, and is the concluding statement in an epic double-tetralogy of ‘History’ plays. Written in 1599, it came at a time when English theatres were rife with war dramas celebrating England’s success on the battlefield and ocean. On one hand, Henry V plays to the audience hungry for another war play – a “tribute to English courage, underdog spirit and a blessing of its current exploit in Ireland” – while simultaneously undermining these nationalistic associations, with “acts of cruelty we struggle to forgive… and an epilogue that makes the whole jolly rumble seem pointless in the first place.” Damien Ryan’s production of Henry V for Bell Shakespeare, on its last leg of a six-month national tour, plays with these ideas and more and gives us a harrowing piece of theatre about war, sacrifice and leadership which stands head, shoulders and torso above the rest.

23/04/2012

To build a globe


London, 1598. 

Picture a theatre in Shoreditch, a tall polygonal building, a wooden O, with tiered galleries facing a stage, a wooden embrace able to house three-thousand bodies in rapt entertainment. It is London’s first theatre, owned by James Burbage, a businessman and impresario, father of Cuthbert and Richard, the latter a soon to be well-known actor. Creatively enough, theirs is named the Theatre, the first and only of its kind for sometime. Outside the city walls, anything is possible. Here, dreams are made and acted out by men playing at soldiers and braggarts, kings and queens, lovers, tyrants, gods and mortals; a kingdom for a stage, princes to act and monarchs to behold the swelling scene!

This winter, in 1598, the Burbage’s and their company of players, the Chamberlain’s Men, players to the Her Majesty, found themselves in the unpleasant place of having a landlord who wanted his land back, preferably without a theatre on it. Only trouble was, as players and theatre-folk, the theatre was their only means of survival. Sure, they could have toured, but every touring company needs a base, needs a home ground, a waterhole, a place of succour and refuge; their place. The Burbage’s called a council of war, a meeting of minds, where each of the shareholders in the Theatre met to voice their concerns. Present that night was a man who has since become legendary, a William Shakespeare of Stratford. As the night lengthened and their wits wandered, desperate to find a solution to their darkest hour, a candleflame flickered in that marvellous mind.