Often cited as the
world’s longest love-letter, Virginia Woolf’s novel Orlando
is a fictional biography of Orlando, an Elizabethan youth who wins the favour
of Queen Elizabeth I, and through good fortune and a dash of incredulity, lives
across centuries, barely ageing a day in the process; following a sex-change in
Constantinople, she (“for there can be no doubt about her sex”) returns to
England a woman, only to find the deck of cards is stacked against her time and
again, until Woolf’s novel finishes in “the present age” (i.e. 1928), when
Orlando is well over three-hundred years old (yet looks little more than thirty
six). Adapted for the stage by Sarah Ruhl, Sydney Theatre Company’s production
of Orlando
is directed by Sarah
Goodes, and although full of colour and energy, it is perhaps hampered
somewhat by a text which contains perhaps too much of Woolf’s own text and not
enough of the playwright’s own dramaturgical landscaping to make it a truly
effective piece of theatre.