TRISTAN AND YSEULT

TRISTAN AND YSEULT

Kneehigh at Shakespeare's Globe
13.06.2017


This daring deconstruction of an ancient legend is one of Kneehigh's greatest hits. It's been at the Cottesloe as well as in Cornwall, it's toured the States, and this latest outing slots in the Globe between Glasgow and Mold.
It fits well in the wooden O – the cast relish the contact with the audience, and the circus ring sits comfortably on the stage.
The show is an intoxicating mix of genres and styles: circus, music-hall, stand-up as well as moments of intense intimacy. An all-you-can-eat, kid-in-a-sweetshop gallimaufrey of effects which some of us remember being so radical in Ariane Mnouchkine's work back in the 70s. It's unashamedly physical, with perhaps rather too much choreographed violence. Even those who know Kneehigh only at the Globe – where Emma Rice presents her final season this winter – will recognise the naïve rhyming verse [Little Match Girl] the bitter-sweet airs (and the flying) [The Flying Lovers of Vitebsk] and the marvellous Mike Shepherd [Adolphus Tips] here playing King Mark of Kernow.
He's one of a very strong company, with Hannah Vassallo and Dominic Marsh as the lovers, audience favourite Niall Ashdown as the handmaiden Brangian, touchingly complicit in the bed-trick, Kirsty Woodward as Whitehands, the other Yseult who does most of the story telling, and an agile Kyle Lima as Frocin [the Dwarf in earlier versions] who betrays Tristan and ends up as one of the Unloved. They provide a geeky Greek chorus, Love Spotters in hoods, armed with binos, cameras and notebooks, the reluctant members of the Club of the Unloved, whose excellent house band – Martin and the Misfits - sits in the musicians' gallery.
The score is eclectic, its cultural relativism putting Nick Cave up against Richard Wagner, Only the Lonely against Oye Negra in a powerful, emotive soundtrack.

946: THE AMAZING STORY OF ADOLPHUS TIPS

Kneehigh at Shakespeare's Globe
28.08.2016

“In the dark times, will there be singing?”
It's not every family show that cites Brecht in the first moments. This is Kneehigh's big-hearted adaptation of the Morpurgo story of one girl, her cat and the Second World War.
Emma Rice has brought it to the Globe, as she did with the equally enchanting Flying Lovers earlier in the season.
It sits well in the democratic space of the Wooden O, though the Globe adds little to the experience. The groundlings, as usual, get the best of it. The actors, clad in overalls, sweep the yard before the action, the excellent blues band warms up from the musician's gallery.
There is plenty of music throughout – underscoring, which is becoming a feature at Rice's Globe – telling the band to shut up for a bit raises a hearty laugh. But there's also a knees-up with banjo and beer bottles, and a haunting spiritual from a dead GI.
South Devon, 1943. Home to Lily, her cat and her family. But they are soon to be made homeless by Exercise Tiger, rehearsal manoeuvres for D-Day. Also far from home are a French schoolmistress, evacuees from London, and American troops.
It's an inventive, engaging production – the landing craft, tiny models, sail, and burn, in tin baths at the front of the stage. Tips the cat is a rag-doll puppet. Young Lily dreams of a playground face-off, complete with skipping rhymes, to settle the conflict between Hitler and Churchill.
Great performances all round, not least from Katy Owen as Lily, feistier and flirtier than in the book. Ncuti Gatwa and Nandi Bhebhe are the two black Americans, Adi and Harry, Chris Jared Lily's father, as well as the village parson and Grandad. Ewan Wardrop gives hilarious broad-brush comedy as the Lord of the Manor and the brassy mother of evacuee Barry [Adam Sopp]. And there's a memorable double from Mike Shepherd as a grumpy Grandad and Lily in later life, reunited at last with the older Adi, played by hep cat Adebayo Bolaji, who's also in charge of the music.
As in War Horse, a young person's search for a beloved animal, lost in the wider world of war, is at the heart of the story. There is a happy ending, but the tragedy and the loss of life is not sanitised. There's dignity as well as daftness in this hugely enjoyable ensemble piece.

THE FLYING LOVERS OF VITEBSK

THE FLYING LOVERS OF VITEBSK

Kneehigh 
at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse
24.06.2016

This is Emma Rice's Kneehigh swansong. And, from the Bristol Old Vic, she's brought it to her new home, Shakespeare's Globe.
Sophia Clist's bold, bulky wooden structure sits slightly uneasily in the Jacobean playhouse, but the enhanced candlelight suits this atmospheric, nostalgic tale perfectly, while the intimacy of the space brings a powerful emotional heft to Daniel Jamieson's lively, wistful two-hander.
Marc Antolin and Audrey Brisson play painter Marc Chagall, child-like, Chaplinesque, and his muse, and first wife, Bella Rosenfeld.
“We can pack all the things we love in Vitebsk into our minds and take them with us,” she tells him, and so they do – the green cows, the rabbis, and of course their airborne alter egos travel to Petersburg, Paris, New York … The devoted Bella sees Marc brush off war, revolution, anti-semitism, fatherhood, as he focuses passionately on his work.
Past blends with present in a playful, poignant piece which resonates long after the music has faded. Ian Ross, the MD, with James Gow, provide an evocative accompaniment, as well as supernumerary support. The old Inkspots number which opens the show is reprised as an encore, suiting the narrative and the mood to perfection.
Back in the 90s, Rice played Bella, we're told. This revival, exquisitely directed, full of imaginative touches and flowing, flying movement, blends theatre and fine art in a moving memoir of the painter as a young man.