Writer: John Webster
Director: Rachel Bagshaw
In 2014, Shakespeare’s Globe opened its new indoor theatre, a Jacobean-style box lit by beeswax candles, with a production of The Duchess of Malfi. So it is fitting that, as part of the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse’s 10th-anniversary celebrations, the venue plays host to John Webster’s tragedy once more.
But this is no restaging of Dominic Dromgoole’s original production. Rachel Bagshaw’s interpretation, in many ways, reflects how The Globe and its Playhouse have grown and adapted over the last decade.
Ti Green’s set design gives the Playhouse’s back wall a silver makeover, upon which captions designed by Sarah Readman relate the script, slightly tweaked with modern references to Rohypnol and Botox, in time to the players. These are no bland surtitles; their placement, spacing, typography and even movement are projections of the speakers’ psyches.
That psychological insight is equally conveyed by the cast, led by Francesca Mills’s Duchess. Introduced with a masked ball and dancing to the chamber musicians’ cover of Scissor Sisters’ Filthy/Gorgeous, Mills wordlessly positions herself at the head of the court – full of love for her courtiers, but leaving them in no doubt that the power in the room is hers alone.
As her twin brother, Ferdinand, Oliver Johnstone initially presents as a doting sibling looking to protect his recently widowed sister. As he and the twins’ other brother, Jamie Ballard’s Cardinal, agree that allowing her to remarry (and potentially sire an heir) would scupper their own inheritance and power, we begin to see that Mills’s power is granted to her unwillingly by the men in her family.
But before the familial plotting gets underway properly, we first get to see the Duchess profess her love to her steward Antonio (Olivier Huband), whom she marries in secret due to his lowly nature. Mills and Huband have electric chemistry, lending a joyfully, humorously romantic air to their courtship and marriage.
But all that soon fades, as news of the Duchess’s pregnancy is uncovered by Arthur Hughes’s Bosola, an ex-convict employed by the brothers to spy on their sister. Hughes does a fine job of never making the nefarious murderer wholly unlikeable, even when conducting the grimmest of actions; his eventual attempt to recant and devote himself to the Duchess over the brother who initially employed him thus feels earned and validated.
As events spiral, Johnstone gets the opportunity to come into his own as Ferdinand’s unravelling psyche takes hold. His attempts to justify his actions towards his sister take on a chilling, quasi-incestuous air before his persona descends ever further. Johnstone displays an acute awareness of the fine line that exists when playing mania; his performance is large, but never outré.
Elsewhere, the performances sometimes struggle to have the same impact. Ballard’s Cardinal is cruel and callous from the off, giving him nowhere to go, while some of the supporting players make fleeting impacts that can feel disconnected from the rest of the work. Especially in the play’s closing acts, as both the Duchess and Ferdinand are off stage for swathes of the action, the onstage frisson dims somewhat.
Thankfully, the atmosphere of the intimate (and, one must admit, uncomfortable) Sam Wanamaker Playhouse ensures that The Duchess of Malfi grabs hold of one’s attention and, while occasionally loosening its grip, continues to apply pressure throughout.
Here’s to the next ten years.
Continues until 14 April 2024
The Reviews Hub Score
Gripping
