Writer: John Webster, adapted by Zinnie Harris
Director: Zinnie Harris
If John Webster’s story had not already been written in the 17th Century, someone would surely conduct it in the 21st. There’s something terrifyingly modern in the concept of men being terrified by a woman who refuses to be humble.
But while Zinnie Harris’s adaptation (originally staged in Edinburgh in 2019 and now receiving its belated West End revival) affords itself some contemporary trappings, the pacing, structure and doom-laden ending are still distinctively exhilaratingly (and, in some places, frustratingly) Jacobean.
Jodie Whittaker’s Duchess, Giovanna, is a wealthy widow who, after her designated mourning period is over, is determined to enjoy her life and her riches. This immediately puts her into conflict with her two brothers. Her twin, Ferdinand (Rory Fleck Byrne) is a loose cannon; their elder brother, referred to only by his position of Cardinal, initially seems the more reasonable of the two until his callous viciousness towards women is proved not to be aimed solely at his sister.
Paul Ready’s Cardinal is a real piece of work, developing a coercively abusive relationship with his mistress, Elizabeth Ayodele’s Julia. The brothers together deliver a powerful, if at times predictable, vision of patriarchal privilege, happy to do whatever they like but ridiculously triggered by their sister having a mind of her own.
And yet, Whittaker’s Duchess is far less powerful and threatening than they imagine. There is the combination of cheeky twinkle and steely resolve that stood her in such good stead in her underrated stint in Doctor Who, and her determination to marry servant Antonio (Joel Fry) really does come across as an act of impetuous love.
As the secret marriage, the Duchess’s subsequent childbirth, and the rumours of her new life reach her brothers, Fry really comes into his own. His Antonio, initially a reactive comic figure of the sort the actor has made his own in countless TV series, deepens and develops layers of characterisation missing elsewhere in the production. In their rare scenes of happiness, he and Whittaker together make all the killing that is to come all the more tragic.
There is little such joy to be had post-interval, as the Duchess is subjected to various psychological torture techniques by her brothers in order to break her resolve. To what end is unclear in Webster’s original work and remains similarly opaque in Harris’s adaptation. Certainly, when Jude Owusu’s Bosola finally executes her, Ferdinand seems genuinely distraught at the conclusion of a plan he himself devised.
In straightforward adaptations of Webster’s play, the attention shifts solely to the men, all the women having been murdered for no crime other than being women with brains. Harris keeps the characters around, becoming whispering consciences to the men who have none of their own – save for poor Antonio, of course. The subsequent showdown is both tense and awkwardly comedic. As the guns are fired and blood sprays everywhere, the elements of farce intrude upon the inherent sadness at the heart of this tragedy.
By keeping the Duchess around until the end, Harris does Whittaker a great service, making her titular character far more present than Webster ever did. That also helps elevate Joel Fry, ironically the heart of this most feminist retelling of an already woman-focussed play, into delivering what may well be the performance of his career.
Continues until 20 December 2024
The Reviews Hub Score
Exhilarating but frustrating adaptation
