King John

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Time Out

King John
Until Sat Feb 11 Union Theatre, 204 Union St, SE1 OLX Full details & map

Time Out says 4 Stars
By Andrzej LukowskiPosted: Mon Jan 23 2012

Shakespeare's 'King John' was big in the Victorian era: the opportunity for excess pomp in a work that largely consists of grandiose court scenes and walloping great land battles apparently overrode any qualms the hokey plot and underdeveloped characters may otherwise have raised.

In the post-pageantry era the play's star has plummeted. But this lean, blackly hilarious take from Phil Willmott genuinely breathes fresh life into it.

Spectacle is scarce in a fringe production that doesn't even have a set. But Willmott has embraced the text's flaws to turn 'King John' into a 'Dr Strangelove'-esque satire on the idiocy of warmongers.

Here, the superb Nicholas Osmond's preening, scheming John and Damian Quinn's uptight King Philip of France score big laughs as they engage in an increasingly ludicrous series of tête-à-têtes to decide the fate of the town of Angiers, a process so absurd it sends Rikki Lawton's initially affable Philip the Bastard completely off the rails.

It's all there in the folio, of course, but those po-faced Victorians would have surely been aghast at Osmond's performance as a faintly sociopathic weirdo who largely seems to be fighting the French for his own amusement.

The air of gleeful mischief drops off in the second half (the accidental suicide of John's nephew Arthur is strangely unfunny, considering the general tone), but by and large this is a rip-roaringly fun production that does much to rehabilitate this most awkward of plays.

The Stage

King John
Published Tuesday 24 January 2012 at 09:43 by Michael Coveney

A rare chance to see one of Shakespeare’s most underrated history plays, with one of his greatest female roles - the wronged and tragically bereaved Constance - proves an unexpected treat at the cramped, darkly atmospheric Union Theatre.

The redoubtable Phil Willmott follows in the RSC footsteps of John Barton, Deborah Warner and Josie Rourke in unravelling the dynastic squabbles, power grabs and religious rows in England and France following the death of Richard the Lionheart.

It’s simply and swiftly done in a design by Emma Tompkins of tables (as tombs, ramparts and turrets), banners and greatcoats. Nicholas Osmond finds lightness and humour in the succeeding John, Richard’s brother, while Damian Quinn faces up boldly as Philip of France.

Samantha Lawson threads Constance’s great speeches through a golden hairpiece, increasingly distraught (“Grief fills up the room of my absent child”), while Albert de Jongh plays that child older than usual, but no less effectively, in his scenes with Hubert (John Last), the guilt-stricken hired assassin with burning irons.

The play, which always sounds less like Shakespeare than some others - except when the Bastard Faulconbridge, played by Rikki Lawton, lets rip - is thoroughly engaging as a vivid anatomy of power and politics in not-so distant times.

The Guardian

King John – review
Union, London

Lyn Gardner
guardian.co.uk, Monday 23 January 2012 18.44 GMT

King John is often overlooked – both the monarch and Shakespeare's play. As AA Milne so sweetly put it: "King John was not a good man/ He had his little ways/ And sometimes no one spoke to him/ For days and days and days." Sometimes no director goes near the play for years and years and years.

Perhaps their reluctance is because King John offers a less interesting essay in kingship than Richard II, and is not nearly as gleefully bad as Richard III. Or maybe Shakespeare wrote it on an off-day. But director Phil Willmott makes a good case for it in a revival that is simple and direct, and keeps a firm narrative grip on proceedings.

Essentially this is a lesson in how not to rule, as the buffoonish John attempts to strengthen his tenuous grasp on the crown in the face of opposition from King Philip of France, who demands that John surrender the throne to Arthur, the son of his dead older brother. Bargains are quickly struck and just as quickly reneged on, and everyone is a political pawn in the bungling machinations of the court. No wonder Rikki Lawton's sardonic opportunist court newcomer declares "Mad world! Mad kings! Mad composition!" and vows only to look out for himself.

Lawton's performance as Philip – on a journey from self-interest to trying to do right in a world so morally compromised that even well-meaning acts are worthless – is worth watching. He makes a good foil for Nicholas Osmond's King John, a man who is frankly a bit of a joke, even to himself. He goes out with a whimper rather than a bang; in a nice touch, he clings to his crown as rigor mortis sets in. Osmond plays him as a weak man, initially under the thumb of his tiger mum Eleanor (Maggie Daniels), who in other circumstances may have been quite a likable chap if he had peaked as chair of the local rotary club.

There are some weak links in the casting, and the production needs more pace, particularly in the second half. Willmott overplays his hand in the choice of music, too. But there is pleasure to be had from seeing a Shakespearean play that isn't over-familiar because of repetition, and one that points up the gulf between the nation's view of its place in the world and cold, hard reality.

The British Theatre Guide

King John

William Shakespeare

Union Theatre

From 17 January 2012 to 11 February 2012

This was the first play of Shakespeare’s that I ever saw. I remember the King borne in on a litter doing a death roll down a flight of steps but not much else (the director was Peter Brook and Paul Scofield was playing the Bastard), but it was long ago and I was very young. I saw it a couple of years later at Stratford (with Helpmann and Quayle) but never since, for productions have been comparatively few. It is a play that was popular in the past (Sarah Siddons was much admired as Constance and the opportunity for medieval pageantry attracted the Victorians). Why is it so rarely produced today? The Union’s revival makes you wonder for Phil Willmott’s production gives it vivid life.

This is not the King you know about—there is no mention of Magna Carta or the crown jewels lost in the Wash. Indeed the crown has to be wrenched out of hands that still grip in firm in death. We are not in a world of fluttering banners and medieval pomp but grappling with the real politic of power. This makes the medieval monarchy feel like a modern world of political chicanery complete with spin doctors, duplicity and opportunist deals. It has a very contemporary resonance and must also have done for its original audiences four hundred years ago. I can’t help wondering how the Shakespeare ever got it past the Master of the Revels’s censorship.

It is all about “a sceptre snatched with an unruly hand” as the Papal Legate Pandulph puts it. After the death of Richard Coeur de Lion, John claims the crown that, by primogeniture, should have gone to Arthur, his elder brother Geffrey’s son. Arthur’s mother, supported by the French king, claims it for her son. Pandulph is initially involved because John is preventing the Pope’s nominee from taking up his post as Archbishop of Canterbury but (voicing Elizabethan Eeglish Protestantism) John lambasts the Papacy and indulgences before succumbing to the Cardinal as a ploy. A marriage between John’s niece and the French Dauphin brings temporary diplomatic accord but wars continue in which Arthur becomes John’s prisoner. The French attempt to invade England but their fleet is wrecked and, when John dies, probably poisoned by monks, his son succeeds as Henry III.

This isn’t a tragedy, it’s a squabble, though one that leaves many dead soldiers on the battlefield and sacrifices little Arthur, but Siddons obviously saw the passionate and grieving Constance as a tragic role. Samantha Lawson plays her in a way that makes you understand what her famous predecessor saw in the role but she also brings out her politcal nous, as she tries to manouvre the French, and a vicious tongue as she lays into John. It is just one example of the high octane playing that fuels Phil Willmot’s production.

Nicholas Osmond as King John gilds his deviousness and opportunism with good-looking charm. He knows how to play the shining monarch while ordering murder. Maggie Daniels as his mother, the aging Eleanor, is ruthless behind her gentle grannie façade. Damian Quinn makes French King Louis seem more honest but when this production shows him, ranged like the English before the walls of Angers, addressing its townsfolk, both kings are like politicians on the hustings or making television speeches, complete with patriotic music welling up to heighten the effect, each as calculating as the other. There is black humour here, satire if the politician-speak didn’t seem so horribly accurate, a moment of wickedly-raised royal eyebrow invites complicity from the audience. More humour comes in the presentatio of Pandulph: a joke at Rome’s expense that Michael J Hayes clearly relishes but is careful not to overplay. Against these others the Dauphin (James Corscadden) and his bride Blanche (Daisy May), and of course young Arthur (Albert de Jongh), are contrasted youthful innocence.

While the great ones fight over a kingdom, two lesser men, the supposed sons of Sir Robert Faulconbridge, fight over an inheritance. The younger brother claims it, saying the elder is a bastard. When it turns out the putative father was Coer de Lion, the royal family welcomes him as their own and bastard Philip decides that’s better than his father’s land. He becomes part of the royal team, spin doctor almost, always pitching for the King until disillusion makes him question things.

Young Robert is as full of self-interest as all those higher in the world, but his long-haired, relaxed manner contrasts with the manic spontaneity with which Rikki Lawton plays the bastard Philip who seems, like a spin-doctor, always around. Indeed he seems so much in charge behind the scenes as ‘twere that he is often moving them, but always it seems naturally integrated in the action. This is a performance of enormous vitality, connecting with the audience like a frantic stand-up, full of pace and emphasis and obviously carefully thought out but his fragmented delivery plays havoc with the sense which arrives more by osmosis than by hearing. When, for no apparent reason, an emphasis comes out on “a” or “the”, can the character really be thinking this? At its most extreme, “warlike John” comes out at one point as “war, like John”. That’s not what was meant by “trippingly on the tongue” and it is something this charismatic young actor must watch. It is especially noticeable because this cast generally handles the verse well.

Willmott’s production delivers the play in about two hours plus one interval. The speed is aided by judicious cutting and rapid transitions from scene to scene. Sequence seems sometimes to have been rearranged so that they intersect with each other. One action continues in the background while another takes place. Emma Tomkin’s design uses a black wall on which an heraldic emblem has been chalked and a row of black tables which can be rearranged to suggest locations or separate opposing forces. Light heraldic breastplates that could have come from some chivalric toy department are worn under military great coats that could have been Napoleonic uniform, seen in the trenches at the Somme or on the backs of a modern army. The niceties of rank and presidence however are ignored, emphasising the personal confrontations and increasing our engagement.

The production is full of items of business that add to our understanding and visual touches that heighten effect. In one physical addition John Last’s excellent Hubert, the king’s servant who is ordered to kill Arthur, is seen heaving and dragging in corpses prompting the king to make him the murderer. Slightly adjusting one speech and bringing it forward, Willmott creates a scene that enacts what Arthur otherwise describes, showing the bond between him and Hubert and this scene continues in the background as Arthur’s mother, with the French, bewails his loss. Huibert is the one character who really changes and comes out well, the dutiful royal servant becomes a compassionate man prepared to stand up for right.

In what is probably the best known scene in the play, a blow torch substitutes for the red hot irons with which Hubert proposes to put out Arthur’s eyes. This touch of modernity did not entirely convince me of its practicality. It saved exposure to some less realistic prop but it made it difficult to create that terrible last moment before Hubert relents, though these things are subjective and their gasps showed it shockingly effective for many in the audience.

This production breathes new life into the play and makes it for today. It is a small theatre. Get a ticket while you can.

The Evening Standard

3/5

It's little wonder that King John is rarely performed. Described by one writer as "the runt in the litter" of Shakespeare's history plays, it's an uneasy ragbag of catastrophe and irony, with none of the grandeur we've come to expect from a cavalcade of Henrys. This beleaguered, incapable monarch has trouble all around: with a claimant to his throne, with the French and, to cap it all, with the Pope.

Not least of the play's problems is the absence of any clearly defined moral centre, as John (Nicholas Osmond, who deserves a crack at a less silly king after this) puts his faith in the quixotic, rapidly promoted Philip the Bastard (Rikki Lawton). There's striking work from Samantha Lawson as Constance, vocal mother of the boy who should have been king, but one of the many attributes of Phil Willmott's assured production is strong ensemble playing from a large cast.

Willmott - whose cogently argued programme note is a pleasure in itself - fills his uncluttered, sure-footed take with impressive verse speaking, and adds a few cherishable flourishes.

A fine closing image of a courtier having to wrestle the crown from the clenched fingers of the late John, ridiculous even in death, speaks volumes about the degraded state of the monarchy.

I just don't share Willmott's view that this is an unjustly neglected masterpiece.

Until February 11 (020 7261 9876, uniontheatre.biz)

One Stop Arts

4 Stars

Being a rarely produced Shakespeare play, King John will be unfamiliar to many. As such, it might be safer to avoid any risks and give people what they were expecting: a Shakespearean history play. Thankfully, this was not a concern troubling director Phil Willmott, who has uncovered the farcical comedy of the fight for the English throne in this energetic production.

The audience are presented with a dimly-lit, spacious stage area containing only four tables, two chairs and some lingering smoke. So far, so serious. This changes as the cast burst in, accompanied by a strangely comical and jaunty fanfare, and the laughter begins. King John (Nicholas Osmond) opens his interrogation of the French Ambassador with quite a heightened, flippant tone making for a very modern-sounding delivery. At first this worried me as I expected to see more gravitas from the King, even one as deluded as John, but I quickly came to love the ridiculousness of a man so obsessed with his own power he could only be a caricature. The timing is on the button and there are some wonderful directorial flourishes: John clicking his fingers to have his speech to the citizens of Angers underscored by stirring music was only bettered by the the French King (Damian Quinn) clicking his fingers for his own 'Allo 'Allo-style theme tune. I cannot fail to mention Cardinal Pandulph delicately tucking into a French Fancy as the monarchs bicker around him.

After what seemed almost a pantomime of laughs in the first half, most of the characters experience a more serious conclusion after the interval. Here is where James Corscadden as Dauphin Louis comes into his own. After the doe-eyed (political) marriage to the wonderfully sweet and naive Blanche (Daisy May), Louis, with his menacing stare and purposefully-delivered Irish tones, has far more presence than his slender physique would suggest. Another strong performance comes from John Last who skillfully switches from the clown-like Citizen of Angers with his nervous indecision to the conscience-afflicted assassin Hubert, steeling himself to burn out the eyes of the King's young nephew in a moving scene.

In the programme, Willmott explains his use of Max Stafford Clark's "Actioning" technique whereby every phrase of the play is given a different and very specific direction; providing light and shade to each speech. As Philip, the bastard son of previous King Richard I (John's elder brother), Rikki Lawton makes good use of the technique in delivering some lengthy monologues to the audience. As a narrator in these speeches, he explains the crux of the play: that of how morals and beliefs can be so quickly set aside by commodity and the human need for power. He ridicules those in authority as they change their policies for the sake of PR. An analogy not lost in modern times. Despite seeming to be fighting a cold during the performance, Lawton showed great, if not a little too much, energy and was a joy to watch. My only question here is whether or not each character achieved enough light and shade. There is an opportunity to play actions that contradict the expectation of a speech: for instance, finding humour in a tragic moment. The scene in which Lady Constance tears her hair as her son loses his claim to the throne could have benefited from such opposition. But this is a small criticism of a strong performance by Samatha Lawson, who, like the rest of the company, understood exactly what they were saying -- making some long and complicated speeches surprisingly easy to follow.

King John is played comically throughout with an almost psychopathic disconnection to emotion or the severity of his situation. He shrugs off his mother's death and answers his son's enquiry about his own health with “Poisoned,” as if he's stating the obvious, and only he can see what's happening in world of traitors and fools who, in sinister slow motion, spiral a dance about him. Again, I would like to have felt John connected to his crumbling monarchy with more gravity than buffoonery but I think this is a product of taking an admirable risk with what could have been rather serious from beginning to end.

Willmott's direction is superb. The cast make full use of the space with background action helping to tell the story. This, along with some well-designed costumed, background music and slick scene changes keep the energy running throughout. All the elements came together for a thoroughly entertaining night which sets the bar for future productions.

Date reviewed: Friday 20th January 2012

What's On Stage

King John

“Bell, book and candle,” that’s one of the phrases we owe to King John; as well as the great speeches of the rampaging Queen Constance and the terrific energy in those of the Bastard, culminating in “This England never did, nor never shall, lie at the proud foot of a conqueror…”

The first audience, still celebrating Drake’s victory over the Spanish Armada, must have loved that. The play spreads from a dispute over land in the shires to the ongoing territorial conflict with the French, the interfering influence of Rome and the constitutional future of the monarchy: it’s virtually a handbook of how Tudor England might have talked about itself.

The Bastard Faulconbridge, winningly played here by a notable newcomer, Rikki Lawton, is more complex even than his confrѐres Iago and Edmund; he slithers righteously through the political power broking as both contender and critic. And Nicholas Osmond makes the beleaguered King John a likeable wiseacre in a highly skilled technical performance.

Phil Willmott strikes again with his Steam Industry production, designed by Emma Tompkins, energetically deploying a cast of young pros and recent drama school graduates.

They dash around the darkened Union in greatcoats and Doc Martins, unimpeded by scenery (there are just four small adaptable tables), belting out the often difficult and convoluted verse.

But the energy is contagious and, for all the rough edges and crudity – Michael J Hayes, for instance, plays the repellent papal legate, Pandulph, with a jowl-shaking, eye-rolling self-indulgence that might have embarrassed even Zero Mostel – the play grips and engages.

Samantha Lawson doesn’t underplay, either, as the bereft and furious Constance, while Albert de Jongh simpers sweetly as an over-age Prince Arthur, and John Last keeps a straight bat as his troubled assassin, Hubert, trading hot irons for compassionate decency.

In that scene, as elsewhere, there are hints of Macbeth and King Lear, and the political pacts involving the Dauphin (James Corscadden), Blanche of Spain (Daisy May) and the King of France (Damian Quinn) are as intriguing as those in any of the other histories.

- by Michael Coveney

London Theatre

King John (Fringe)

Review by Peter Brown
20Jan 2012

The early part of the last millennium was a tough time to be King of England, or indeed a relative of the King. In those days, disputes over who had the right to wear the crown were bloody affairs, and support for a contender for the throne often came from the Kings of France, and led inevitably to threats of conflict, or war between the two kingdoms. Those situations and the associated themes of greed and self-interest make for good theatre and no doubt Shakespeare had the same thought as he turned his attention to those bloody and turbulent days.

Written in 1595 or 1596, Shakespeare's 'King John' (or 'The Life and Death of King John', to give it its full title) has been lingering in something akin to obscurity for some time. Though it was apparently popular in Victorian times it has largely been overlooked in the past century, and productions of this play are few and far between. That fact alone makes ample recommendation for seeing any new version. But there's a bonus with this production, because in the skilful hands of director Phil Willmott and a hugely talented cast who obviously were undaunted by the task of bringing the play out of the shadows, it turns out to be both fascinating and gripping, with a good dollop of humour thrown in for good measure.

The play starts after King John has usurped the throne of England. By rights, Prince Arthur should have inherited the kingdom on the death of his father, Richard the Lionheart. But John grabbed the crown, and Arthur and his mother Constance are protected by France. Now, a French ambassador turns up and tells John to hand over the crown or there will be war. While John is mulling this over, he has to arbitrate between two brothers who are in dispute about their father's lands. This introduces us to the character of Philip the Bastard, the Lionheart's illegitimate son. Philip in a sense acts as narrator, but he is also a rabble-rouser. The action quickly moves to France where the twists and turns of the plot include the arrival of a papal legate introducing another dimension into the political turmoil.

One of the biggest questions with 'King John' is whether the King is a buffoon or merely incompetent. I do not think John can be portrayed as a complete fool because he had the political skills to acquire the throne in the first place. And Nicholas Osmond seems to agree with that in his playing of the role, though he does illustrate other qualities in the king, such as petulance and a streak of childishness which both seem more than appropriate. Albert de Jongh's Arthur cowers rather too much during the initial stages when he is supposedly terrified of both the French King and John, but adapts very convincingly after he is captured by the English and has to talk his way out of being blinded by a blow torch!

Arthur's mother, Constance, can be something of an irritation, but not in the capable hands of Samantha Lawson who produces a truly magnetic performance after her son has been captured by the English and she becomes totally distraught. Rikki Lawton invests the character of Philip the Bastard with an almost boundless energy and vitality which, like the events, borders (deliberately) on the absurd. But he skilfully contrasts that with a more serious and sedate response as darker events occur later in the play. The support from the rest of the cast – too numerous to mention individually – is, quite simply, excellent.

Phil Willmott's superb direction encapsulates atmospheric music augmented by singing and humming from the cast, and simplicity in design which matches the bleak austerity of the living conditions of the times.

Shakespeare may not have accurately related all the historical facts, but he did capture the essence of the times, describing greedy, self-centred characters who become ridiculous as their stances shift with the political winds. 'King John' has humour, tension, intrigue and sadness – a suitable cocktail for an evening's entertainment. The play certainly deserves to be seen more often, but it is the sheer quality of this production that makes Shakespeare's work shine.

(Peter Brown)

The Public Reviews

King John – Union Theatre, London
Writer: William Shakespeare

Director: Phil Willmott

Reviewer: Ian Foster

Given the ubiquity of productions of Shakespeare’s works in so many of our theatres, and in particular of certain works within the canon, one might assume that those that remain neglected remain so for a very good reason. But director Phil Willmott and the Union Theatre clearly do not agree and after the successful run last year of Double Falsehood, its disputed authorship notwithstanding, they have now turned to a play that was definitely by Shakespeare, but remains very rarely produced in the modern day – King John.

The play is focused on questions of legitimacy as John acceded to the throne at the expense of his nephew Arthur to control the Angevin Empire whose borders stretched far into France due to the land originally held by his mother Eleanor of Aquitaine. But he is not a natural-born leader like his father Henry II or brother Richard the Lionheart and his already tenuous hold on his kingdom is further threatened when the King of France throws his support behind young Arthur and demands his abdication. Thus John is driven to increasingly desperate action as battles rage, noblemen’s loyalties waver and to cap it all off, the Pope is displeased and is considering excommunicating him.

Phil Willmott’s uncluttered production makes remarkably clear sense of a plot which is often dangerously close to convoluted and makes a virtue of its simplicity. A chair and four tables are the only set yet they are endlessly reconfigured to create a grand throne, the ramparts of a castle or a banqueting table stretching the width of the stage; costumes are modern(ish) but non-specific, releasing the play from tightly defined context. This in turn allows the actors to fully focus on fleshing out their characters and drawing out the timeless parallels: the usual Shakespearean array of betrayals, revenge, murder, love and avarice are present but are given a fresh spin by the (relative) unfamiliarity of the story.

The play is at its best when focusing purely on John as a monarch. There’s no particularly defining characteristic about him, like say Richard III’s hunchback, aside from a ruthless hunger for power but it is this relentless, amoral pursuit that actually strikes home in Nicholas Osmond’s portrayal. Affably normal and likeable at first, there’s little of the regal statesman about him as he tries to charm his way through but as power corrupts him, his demeanour stiffens, the moodswings become darker and his wretchedness exposed in his desperate clinging to power, yet there’s still a twinkle in the eye – note the hilarious reaction to his mother’s death. He bonds well with Philip the Bastard, his closest man in court and the broadest, most entertainingly fully-rounded character in the show. He’s brought to vivid life by Rikki Lawton, a performance which is close to over-emphatic at times in the small space of the Union but whose energy provides a fillip throughout.

The issue that I found with the play though, and the reason I suspect it has collected so much dust, is its frequent excessive verbiosity, a recurring factor in the lesser History plays. Sometimes in certain scenes, it catches fire as in the magnificent face-off between Eleanor and Constance, mother of Arthur, Maggie Daniels and Samantha Lawson both crackling with fury, and assassin Hubert’s melting at Arthur’s innocence is given heartbreaking form by John Last; at others the actors struggle to impose vivid characterisations on the underdeveloped supporting roles, a lack of depth to so many of them meaning their impact is curtailed despite the good work from the cast. This is a particular shame as there’s so much exploration of ambiguity, both moral and political, hinted at which thus never comes to fruition.

King John is unlikely to ever join the group of Shakespeare plays that are put on time and time again, it lacks too much for that, but where possible, this production of the work has been imbued with a liveliness that results in the play feeling like a darkly tragicomic melodrama rather than a dry history lesson. That this is largely achieved is testament to Willmott’s vision and the sterling work of the company and though not all of it will be to everyone’s taste – I wasn’t a fan of the use of music and the stylised directorial flourish that comes near the end – this is a perfect example of how a very well-judged production can illuminate material of any quality.

Runs until 11th February

Remote Goat

Review of King John

"strange that death should sing"
by Peter Carrington for remotegoat on 21/01/12

There is always a question of judgement when interpreting Shakespeare. A thousand balancing scales must be set between comedy, tragedy, reverence and relevance. King John is the paradigm of such judgement and this is obvious from each aspect of this production.

A dim smoke filled hall where chanting echoes is the stage for a plot that swiftly slithers back and forth with narrative and directive flourishes. John (Nicholas Osmund) clings to his kingdom while Philip of France (an emotive Damian Quinn) seeks to put a young relative of John's onto the English throne. Both powers move at the behest of strong women; Elanor of Aquitaine (the regal Maggie Daniels) and Constance (Samantha Lawson). The tale is set up quickly and moves along at a swift pace, encompassing an epic tale of kingdoms and wars with numerous heartfelt sub-plots. There are familiar Shakespeare motifs, such as honour versus politics, love versus duty, prejudice, power, tragic and comedic misunderstanding and the heavy weight of a crown.

The casting is very well judged. Rikki Lawton brings both energy and poignancy to Philip, bastard son of Richard the lionheart; desperate to climb socially yet with a great national pride. His fervent delivery must infect the cast as it does the audience. Nicholas Osmund cuts a comedic and tragic figure as John; sometimes scampering with glee but also capable of being regal, conveying perhaps being the lesser relative of great men and women. Maggie Daniels as his mother, Queen Elanor of Aquitaine embodies all of the poise and power of that family. On the other side of the channel there are excellent foils to them both. Damian Quinn as King Philip of France is a reflection of John but with greater statesmanship. Samantha Lawson's Constance verbally flagellates herself in her speeches, her grief 'filling up the room'; the opposite to Eleanor's confident presence. Supporting performances such as John Last as Hubert, conveying a gruff but good man and Leonard Sillevis as Lord Falconbridge are understated but strong. The young and innocent are but pitiable pawns in this game as played Daisy May and Albert De Jongh. All the cast drive for gravitas, clarity and representation without exception which makes each line feel very precise in delivery.

The set is minimal, which allows the text to fill the room and tell the tale, aided by clarity of direction. The costumes are a master class in suggestion; long military coats, splattered with mud over breastplates imply both medieval and cold war times. Colour and heraldry show state and allegiance but in an understated way so as not to overshadow nor cause confusion over the action. The music and sound similarly add to the atmosphere in a range of poignant or comedic ways without detracting from the text. Lighting is appropriate, getting darker and moodier as dark times loom. Each aspect is designed to bring forth the text and never overshadow it.

King John is staged here as a black comedy; smiling, singing and dancing with the weighty subjects. Some may find this jarring if not to their tastes but considering the content, I feel this production brings the text and the meanings within to the forefront with

Exuent Magazine

4 Stars

King John
AT UNION THEATRE, 17TH JANUARY - 11TH FEBRUARY 2012

BY SARAH PERRY

The King John whose stone effigy lies in Worcester Cathedral is handsome enough, but seems peevish, casting a shifty glance over his shoulder, alert to others grasping for the crown and mistrustful of the companions carved on either side.

Shakespeare’s John is so perfectly fitted to this image it’s easy to picture him as tourist, pausing by the Worcester tomb and reaching for his notebook. Superficially charming, summoning up a little regal oration when the occasion demands, this king is none too bright, readily swayed by his formidable mother, and given to sudden fits of temper or hilarity. The play dwells not on the familiar tale of the sulky signing of the Magna Carta, but on power struggles that begin between mother- and daughter-in-law, and end at the gates of a town under siege.

It would be rare indeed to find a theatre-goer crying out in surprised despair as Desdemona is strangled, or shaking their heads in delighted disbelief that Beatrice and Benedick turned out to be rather keen on each other, after all. Even lesser-known plays like Titus Andronicus have a notoriety that forestalls any real surprises: every English undergrad in the world must surely have seen a photo of Lavinia mutely waving her stumps. But King John has been so long abandoned (despite having been wildly popular with the Victorians) that it offers that rare pleasure, at least to those as ignorant as I – a chance to encounter a Shakespeare play with no more knowledge of the plot than those arriving at the Swan in 1598.

In the Union Theatre’s superb production, director Phil Willmott makes of the play’s obscurity a positive virtue. Here is no need to resort to the tricks so often deployed to present the ‘twice-told tales’ of Hamlet or Macbeth in some unusual light: the story, plainly and simply put, is enough. The set is spare and dark, with little more than the odd puff of dry ice and rearrangement of a table to suggest everything from throne room to castle battlements. The cast – sporting battered armour beneath great-coats that might have come from any battlefield from Agincourt to Leningrad – are undaunted by the pentameter: free from the expectations of an audience who have already seen a dozen Johns and know what they like, there is something lively and somehow un-Shakespearian about their performances, with none of the earnest declamations that so often keep an audience at arm’s length from the text.

As John, Nicholas Osmond inhabits the role by degrees. His king clings to power not with the dragon’s wrath claimed by Lear, but with the pettish determination of a child with a favoured toy. Likeable enough at first – a careless man who’d rather do without all this warring nonsense – power corrupts him scene by scene until he becomes capable of acts of chilling cruelty. It is an understated performance that relies not on giving the audience a satisfactory rendition of one of Shakespeare’s ‘Greatest Hits’, but on creating a fully-realised, believably conflicted human being.

As Philip the Bastard, Rikki Lawton’s manic energy is not mere actorly display: it is essential in propelling the cast towards the final scenes. Samantha Lawson is exceptional as Constance, whose ambition matches that of Lady Macbeth, and whose motherly love is so intense as to be troubling. Eleanor of Aquitaine is given due stature and power by Maggie Daniels, and as the lad Arthur, a pawn in a bitter endgame, Albert de Jongh moves between terror and affection with touching conviction.

At the play’s close, I unfolded the paper where I’d recorded the lines which struck me most. I’d thought perhaps the play would be justifiably forgotten – its verse thin and leaden, its plot slow, its characters forgettable. But I discovered I’d scribbled, delighted, on both sides: I found an embarrassment of riches, with more compassion, beauty, wit and grandeur in one scene than most writers over the centuries can summon in a life’s work. Constance’s grief is no less raw than that of Ophelia by the riverside; Albert is no less an innocent than the boys in the Tower; John may revolt us less than Richard III, but for all that seems more real.

It would take a better scholar than I to explain King John’s long fall from grace – but there could be no better production than this to argue for its return.

London SE1

King John at the Union Theatre

Saturday 21 January 2012
Alice Dickerson

Despite being one of Shakespeare's least known plays, this production bursts at the seams with passion, humour and drama.

Where to begin with the plotline of King John? It involves at least five kings, dead or alive, two princes, one queen, one bastard son and various other members of the English and French gentry, all entangled in a convoluted plot so ludicrous it would not look out of place in a modern-day soap opera. It combines the usual traits of Shakespearean tragedy – greed, revenge and love – and adds to these the age-old rivalry between England and France, a topic as ripe for drama and laughs in Shakespeare's time as it is today.

Whilst the plot may not be one of Shakespeare's most acclaimed, his characters are fantastically realised and brought to life by this cast. His female roles are noticeably strong; the slanging match that takes place between the 'Granddame' Queen Elinor (Maggie Daniels) and her rival Constance (Samantha Lawson) is one of the play's most memorable scenes, as their male relatives look on in both awe and fear. Cardinal Pandulph (Michael J Hayes) is a great comic character, representing all that is wrong with religion when corrupted by power and excess. And King John may have been a weak king but he is far from a weak character – Nicholas Osmond brilliantly displays how his pomposity and haplessness combine to cause his eventual and inevitable downfall.

In such a small space, the staging has to be both sparse and deployed innovatively and this is achieved here with great success. The use, or at least threatened use, of a blowtorch is slightly terrifying on such a confined stage, but extremely effective. The production also deploys an excellent, and often tongue-in-cheek, soundtrack. The scene, in which King John is haunted by the ghosts of those he has killed, who dance to the strains of a waltz, is creative and, quite honestly, eerie.

The team behind King John and Union Theatre should be commended for taking on one of Shakespeare's least performed plays. There is a reason why his histories are performed far less frequently than his tragedies or comedies – quite simply, they are far less comic or tragic. Here, Shakespeare ambitiously attempts to compress decades of historical fact into a couple of hours of entertainment. Yet this production succeeds in translating a difficult script into an evening of memorable and accomplished performances.

This production of King John is undoubtedly good enough to be performed on a far larger stage. However, this would dilute the intimacy and power felt when viewed at the Union. Only a small audience may be able to view it every evening but, by rights, there should not be an empty seat in the house.

Plays to See

King John
Dates: 17 January to 11 February 2012

Review by Urvashi Vashist

A black brick backdrop graffittied in chalk strikes the first note of “perpetual February” in Phil Willmott’s production of King John—a February of singularly apt shreds and patches, but shot through with the irrepressible, quirky humour of an ensemble determined to have fun with Elizabethan drama. Even if the performance were not as infectiously enthusiastic and enjoyable as it is, this revival of one of William Shakespeare’s most infrequently performed plays, in London for the first time in a decade, is not to be missed.

Probably written in the mid-1590s, the first performances of The Life and Death of King John are undocumented. The articulate passion of Constance and exuberant rhetoric of Philip the Bastard delighted the Victorians, but David Garrick—who played both John and Philip in various productions through the eighteenth century—thought it “unworthy of its author” and the twentieth century has seen a dramatic fall in its popularity. Critic and scholar A. R. Braunmuller pointed out that “everyone knows two things about King John . . . he was Robin Hood’s arch-enemy, and he granted Magna Cara.” The fact that Shakespeare makes no mention of either has, perhaps, contributed to the play’s relative neglect. Actors and theatre managers alike seem to have found its irregular and eclectic engagement with politics mystifying. Almost every character in every scene wrestles with double-edged double-speak; every disappointment and betrayal has equal and enormous emotional weight. The result, as Garrick noted, can seem like “a rumble-jumble of martial incidents, improbably and confusedly introduced.” Eighteenth and nineteenth-century productions often attempted to infuse order and ominous stateliness into Shakespeare’s text. Colley Cibber, Poet Laureate from 1730 till his death in 1757 (and incidentally the chief Dunce in Alexander Pope’s Dunciad) rewrote the play to emphasise the king’s conflict with the Pope; productions such as Herbert Beerbohm Tree’s—an extravagant, elaborate spectacle staged in 1899—spotlit John’s machinations and the political significance of his reign (by inserting a tableau that depicted the king granting Magna Carta, for instance).

But King John at the Union Theatre reminds us that this very atmosphere of desperate confusion and outrageous tragic comedy is Shakespeare’s best gift to existential realism. It emphasises the characters’ lack of foreknowledge—as well as ours in the present. Willmott’s production celebrates this absurdity inherent in the best-laid plans of mice and men. Time and chance happeneth to bastards and legitimate heirs-to-the-throne alike, transform mice to men and vice versa. Emma Tompkins has designed an ascetically sparse set to reinforce this theme—the royal court’s deal-table centrepiece is upended to become castle battlements; the costumes are mongrel affairs that suggest any time, any place and—as Willmott states in his programme—a perpetual winter of uniquely human discontent.

The only truly jarring note through the production was a casual, almost unthinkingly misogynistic, interpretation of and response to Constance. The obvious embarrassment of the male politicians when she and Eleanor face off is perhaps excusable (though not particularly innovative as a dramatic strategy), given Shakespeare’s textual admonishment of the women. But the choice to subject Geoffrey’s widow to a relentless barrage of sexual advances needed a subtler response from Lawson to achieve its presumed aim—a commentary on the price Constance pays to fight for her young son’s right. Nicholas Osmond plays a multi-faceted John, all but winking at his audience as the faux-cunning king flails; Maggie Daniels’s Queen Eleanor is a deliberate, almost shockingly cool and level-headed counterpoint to her son. Samantha Lawson rages convincingly as Constance, and if one looks in vain for humour in her portrayal of the ‘rightful’ Queen Mother, yet her final appearance as the avenging monk who kills the king is a stroke of genius, and perhaps justifies her studied gravity. Rikki Lawton is painfully sincere and provocatively ludicrous by turns, and John Last gives a fine performance as the singularly loyal Hubert. All in all a production that fulfils its promise: “a rare chance to experience Shakespeare’s neglected masterpiece".

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