Thursday, 22 August 2013

As You Like It at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre Stratford

Oh what a merry dance. Maria Aberg's production of this familiar play is terrific fun. This is the same team that this time last year I saw transform the dull King John into something of a party. Although I am probably in the tiny minority (maybe of one) who thought that was better than this year's As You Like It, I still loved last night's superb performance. Inventive, colourful and full of music (by Laura Marling - here far more accessible than usual) and dance, the first half went in a flash. The movement around the stage was outstanding, and the diction was fresh and clear.

Both leads from King John were here again with Alex Waldmann as Orlando and Pippa Nixon leading the company as Rosalind. When she played The Bastard in King John I wrote on 7th September last year "Here is a star in the making. She is absolutely brilliant. No wonder the RSC have given her some big roles over the last couple of years". And she just gets better and better. Just wait until she lands some big movie roles.


I was surprised that the "Seven Ages Of Man" speech came out of the blue. But on studying the text, I found that Orlando had just left after coming across the Duke and his entourage in the forest. He had explained his predicament and on his exit, the Duke is mournful when he says "... we are not all alone. This wide and universal theatre presents more woeful pageants than the scene wherein we play him. And that is where Jaques comes in:

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

I'm sure that my father could recite this piece. It does sound so familiar, especially the last line.

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