Theatreguide.London
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The Theatreguide.London Review
In March 2020 the covid-19 epidemic
forced the closure of all British theatres. Some companies adapted
by putting archive recordings of past productions online, others
by streaming new shows. And we take the opportunity to explore
other vintage productions preserved online. Until things return to
normal we review the experience of watching live theatre onscreen.
Twelfth
Night
ITV
and YouTube September 2020
This
1970
television production boasts an A-List cast led by Joan Plowright, Ralph
Richardson and Alec Guinness. These people are incapable of being bad,
but with a director – John Sichel – with little evident feeling for
comedy, it too often plods where it wants to sparkle.
The
first disappointment is that Joan Plowright, whose greatest power as an
actor is her ability to imbue her characters with a solid reality, has
been directed to recite all her lines as poetry rather than speak them
with any naturalness.
This
makes it difficult for her Viola to come alive or engage the audience –
and if we don't experience the plot's twists along with Viola there
isn't much play there.
Things
perk up when we move to Olivia's household. Adrienne Corri as Olivia
acts rings around Plowright in their scenes together, through the simple
device of speaking and behaving like a real human being rather than a
schoolgirl reciting by rote.
Ralph
Richardson
makes Sir Toby an amiable and harmless old gent, never more than happily
tipsy, while John Hoffatt's Sir Andrew is an engaging puppy dog of a
dimwit.
Sheila
Gish's Maria is obviously madly in love with Toby, even if she has to
treat him like a naughty little boy at times, and Tommy Steele's
signature cheeky-chappie grin does no harm as Feste.
Alec
Guinness's stage performance as Malvolio has become legendary, but he
has clearly been directed to tone it down for television. He is not
particularly puritanical in the cakes-and-ale scene or particularly
farcical in the letter scene, though he does loosen up enjoyably for the
yellow stockings scene.
It
can
be argued that this is a good thing – the tradition of serious actors
'slumming' as they camp it up as Malvolio too often warps the play – but
we can't help missing some of the fun.
The production as a whole is fast-moving at under two hours, and the plot is clear to follow. And of course these actors are always worth watching. But too much of the flavour and too much of the fun has been lost.
Gerald Berkowitz
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