Etta Murfitt | Bouquets & Brickbats

21/10/26

The Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

We’re taking our seats in the Lyceum and the place appears to be full of train spotters – well, no, ‘Love Spotters’ to be more accurate, as one of the balaclava-clad members informs us. He’s one of ‘The Unloved,’ who even have their own nightclub in which to bewail their plight. It turns out that every member of the twelve-strong cast takes a turn in these hallowed ranks, slipping in and out of costume so cleverly that I’m sometimes convinced that there are actually many more actors than listed in the programme.

Emma Rice and Kneehigh have reinvented their original 2003 production of Tristan & Yseult and the fruits of their collaboration race, dance and leap across the stage like wonderful mirages conjured from a fever dream. Based around a 12th century Cornish myth, T&Y tells the story of two star-crossed lovers and, like most myths from that era, it’s batshit crazy.

But here it is in a nutshell: Prince Tristan (John Leader) saves the life of King Mark of Cornwall (Edward Rowe) by defeating the Irish night Morholt (Tom Fox) in battle. The Irish are attempting a full scale invasion of Cornwall, so I guess that’s fair enough? Mark then sends Tristan (who has been badly wounded) to Ireland in order to collect Morholt’s daughter, Yseult (Nandi Bhebhe), who Mark now intends to marry. What could possibly go wrong?

On the journey back, the two leads mistake a bottle of wine for a powerful love potion (as you do) and… well, it gets complicated.

Got that? Good, because now you can pretty much forget about it and just enjoy the dazzling vigour and the off-the-charts level of invention employed to depict the ensuing chaos. What we are offered is a feast of wild dance routines, breathless fights, circus skills, knockabout humour, moments of heart-stopping drama, dazzling lighting effects and stirring musical interludes. The hefty running time seems to evaporate as the action unfolds and I just sit there, utterly spellbound.

Every now and then, I’m able to appreciate particular elements of this intricate human mosaic: Bhebe’s astonishing vocal range; Leader’s incredible athleticism; Fox’s perfectly judged comic asides – and I also particularly enjoy Matthew Churcher’s depiction of Mark’s henchman, Frocin, as he attempts, ever more desperately, to capture the respect of his King.

We’ve long had a soft spot for Emma Rice but this shows her at the height of her powers. The late Bill Mitchell’s original set and costume designs have been ‘refreshed’ by Vicki Mortimer and hats should be raised to choreographer Etta Murfitt, who sets this wonderfully inventive piece into constant motion.

The standing ovation that greets this magnificent production is heartfelt and exuberant, and my advice is to get yourselves down to the Lyceum before this wonder packs up its bags and sets sail for new destinations.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

04/06/20

BBC iPlayer

Emma Rice’s glorious stage adaptation of Angela Carter’s Wise Children is the most exciting theatrical production I’ve seen in my own living room, since lockdown began and I started trawling online offerings. Filmed at the York Theatre Royal, it’s right there on iPlayer (until July 9th), nestling amongst the Zoom panel shows and re-runs of old series, just waiting for you to click that mouse and let the mayhem begin.

It’s wild and wonderful, bawdy and tawdry – like watching Carter’s story come tumbling from the book, the word made flesh. Emma Rice’s adaptation revels in the novel’s magnificent excesses, amping up the theatricality, highlighting the slippery nature of identity and what it means to know who we are.

This is the story of illegitimate twins Dora and Nora Chance, who are celebrating their seventy-fifth birthday as the play opens. In this iteration, they are played by Gareth Snook and Etta Murfitt, who remain on stage throughout, narrating and commenting on the tale as it unfolds. Their mother dies giving birth to them; their father, the preposterously successful Shakespearean actor, Melchior Hazard (Ankur Bahl/Paul Hunter) refuses to acknowledge them, and they are taken in by their mother’s landlady, Grandma Chance (Katy Owen), a shouty naturist, who puts them to work in the music halls as soon as possible. Their father’s twin brother, Peregrine (Sam Archer/Mike Shepherd), looks after them financially, and spoils them with presents whenever he visits. But the Hazards’ debauched extravagance means that nothing is immutable, and there are stepmothers, half-siblings and, yes, more twins at every turn. The Chances’ lives are never dull.

But this is an ode to theatre as well as the twins’ story. We are backstage and on stage as well as in the auditorium. There’s puppetry and physical theatre, Shakespearean tragedy and end-of-pier comedy. ‘What a joy it is to dance and sing,’ says Dora, and we see this realised in the fabulous teenage Dora and Nora (Melissa James and Omari Douglas), as they relish their showgirl flamboyance and explore their sexuality.

Vicki Mortimer’s design is as audacious and vibrant as the characters: a little touring caravan and ‘Wise Children’ spelled out in lights – all bright vivacity, a carnival of colour. The costumes are gaudy and unapologetically showbiz; Grandma Chance’s naked body suit is cartoonish, exaggerated and silly. It all works, a cacophony of artifice and illusion.

If you like theatre, then you will like this.

iPlayer. Now.

5 stars

Susan Singfield