Review for the Western Morning News

THE CHANGELING by Thomas Middleton and William Rowley was first performed in 1622. It has now been seen in Truro at the Hall for Cornwall in a new production directed by Stephen Unwin for English Touring Theatre. Jacobean tragedy is not to everyone's taste, for it is often crudely violent, and sometimes (as in The Changeling) includes grotesque scenes exploiting and mocking the miseries of the insane.
In his programme introduction Stephen Unwin stressed that he has been an ardent admirer of this play for many years. He claimed that it 'combines tremendous theatricality with great psychological insight'.
The work of the whole company in an outstandingly brilliant performance demonstrated that this ruthless and relentless piece 'still rings true'
(Unwin again), and can be brought to life by a company of talented players and others who understand their business.
There was one extraordinary bit of acting. Adrian Schiller as Deflores, consumed by an insatiable lust for his employer's young daughter, presented a thoroughly depraved character without resorting to any histrionic tricks.
He was calm and careful in everything he did, whether he was running his sword through his victim, cutting of a finger from the corpse to obtain a ring for Beatrice-Joanna, seducing and making love to her, or finally killing himself and her when the game was up. He personified the evil centre of a corrupting world, and did it all with hardly a gesture or raised voice.
Anna Koval ran him close as Beatrice-Joanna. In her first professional engagement - and in a very difficult and lengthy part - she revealed all the required passion, initial revulsion and eventual terror as things moved to the tragedy's calamitous and inevitable conclusion.
All the supporting roles were carefully executed, and much was made of their opportunities by (especially) Terrence Hardiman, Ken Bones, David Cardy and Marianne Oldham.
The massive, sombre setting, designed by Paul Wills, served as Spanish castle and, when required the place of incarceration for imbeciles. It set the *mood before a word was spoken.
Finally, every moral, artistic and dramatic point was unfalteringly made by the Director during a memorable evening.

Published in The Independent's 'You write the reviews' section
1st November 2007

An audience fearing a stage awash with blood and guts might have been lulled into a false sense of security at this joint production of 'The Changeling' from the English Touring Theatre and Nottingham Playhouse; it was only near the end, when Beatrice and Deflores emerge bloodied and dying from the cupboard under the stairs, that stomachs began to heave; never did the cupboard under the stairs appear so scary a place. Director Stephen Unwin’s restraint highlighted the inevitable horror to which the play’s trail of betrayal and illicit lust leads. We almost felt pity for Beatrice, who, engaged to be married to Piracquo, her father’s choice, falls in love with a visitor to the court; her solution, arrived at swiftly, in true revenge tragedy style, is to commission Piracquo’s murder. Sympathy for Deflores is harder to find as he gladly takes on this commission in the hope of ensnaring Beatrice for his own. Writhing around in their own blood at the front of stage, about to die under the gaze of Beatrice’s family, it is clear not just that the game is up but that a new bond has formed between the plotters. Both had arrived at this chamber of horrors by following their passions, and at the end it seemed they were well matched. Adrian Schiller, playing Deflores, achieved a creepy, sinister tone through a calm low key delivery. It was a memorable performance.

As the play is a tragedy written only a few years after Shakespeare’s death there was inevitable comparison during the interval. It’s different, though, and perhaps more accessible, not least because of the spare language and fast movement. It allows little time for characters to reflect on their deeds in the way we expect of Shakespeare’s tragic heroes; nevertheless it isn’t a play without poetry or wit. Asides to the audience offer insights into motivation, or more often to the suspicion with which all characters view one another. Passing references to “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” and “Hamlet” also convey a flavour of literary “joshing” in the world of Jacobean playwrights. The madhouse scenes caught exactly the right note: for the most part humorous, but as the inmates practise their grotesque dance for the wedding feast the audience is left unsure whether it’s appropriate to laugh.

The goings on in the asylum also make the point that illicit lust needn’t lead to misery and death. Comically pursued by three suitors the madhouse master’s wife just says no, leaving them to appear foolish; but at least they are still living.

Using only one set, serving as both castle and asylum, designer Paul Wills’ stone walls, grim staircase and heavy doors give the right sense of confinement and intrigue. The audience is never quite sure what pain or torture is being suffered, or what plots are being hatched, just behind the scenes. Stephen Unwin’s production brings into sharp focus the themes of a play sometimes regarded as confusing and difficult to follow. It’s a splendid achievement.

I went to see your production of 'The Changeling' last week at Guildford.
It was brilliant! Please pass my thanks to actors and all involved. Also, the excellent set really added to the atmosphere. I'll keep an eye out for your next production....

Middleton, who wrote his plays a little after Shakespeare, probably knew him and would have been familiar with his works. Indeed, it has been suggested that on occasions he may even have co-operated with him. Rowley in turn was a regular co-author of Middleton’s. It is surprising therefore that so little of Shakespeare’s structural techniques were applied to The Changeling. Instead of a slow build-up we have, in the main story, a series of sharply focussed snap shots and thus little in the way of continuity, so that the subtler aspects in the development of the characters are very much left to our imagination. As in many of Shakespeare’s works, there is a subplot, but more of that later.

While Shakespeare’s language is poetic and pleasing to the ear, Middleton and Rowley’s is harsh and clipped, and often seems more difficult – but this could be due to its unfamiliarity. As with Shakespeare, there is much reliance, especially in the subplot, on puns, word play and double entendres, lost on and unamusing for a modern audience but originally designed, no doubt, to bring in a wider public.

The main plot, set in a castle, concerns the obsession of the deformed courtier Deflores with the young and inexperienced Beatrice-Joanna, daughter of a rich and powerful nobleman, who has arranged for her to marry a man for whom she has no love; instead, she wishes to marry a Romeo-like romantic figure, whom she hardly knows but who has clearly aroused in her newly experienced feelings of sexual passion. She contracts Deflores to murder her intended husband, naively believing that this will free her to marry the man she craves. She is appalled when Deflores, having completed his task, names his price: her virginity. She is trapped, submits, and in turn finds herself overcome by passion. This being a tragedy in the Jacobean mould, moral rectitude has to be seen to be apparently defended and the two main characters die by their own hand.

It would be unfair to regard this play as a somewhat premature version of grand guignol, but to the modern eye there is an excessive amount of bullying, rape, fighting, ridiculing the mad, and downright cruelty. So why has the play survived, and why is it still so highly regarded? Despite its weaknesses it speaks to us and its messages are clear: Middleton and Rowley knew that Jacobean society’s values were based on hypocrisy: women were as passionate as men, human life was sacrosanct, the vulnerable must be protected and not exploited, and none of us are quite what we seem and cry out to be understood. Looked at in this way the subplot, set in a mad house, is a subtle and successfully constructed reflection of the main plot.

The Changling has a large cast, and in this production all the actors acquit themselves well but inevitably, on stage, the success of this difficult play hinges on the casting and performance of its two most important characters. Beatrice-Joanna is played by Anna Koval who having just left drama school, is embarking on first role. She successfully combines restlessness, naivity and newly discovered lust. Adrian Schiller puts his RSC experience to excellent use: he speaks his lines beautifully, and his Deflores is both interesting and convincing. He shows him as a man haunted by disappointment, hard, passionate and ruthless yet utterly human, driven to commit murder and rape to assuage his devils. Despite everything he engages one’s sympathies.

The costumes, loosely Jacobean, are excellently designed. The set, doubling as the courtyard of a castle and a mad house, is strikingly effective. The harsh lighting suits costumes, sets and movements well. Certain anachronisms such as an electric torch, and the ‘Exit’ sign over the lunatic asylum’s entrance, are clearly designed to avoid the often stifling effect of a truly ‘contemporary’ ambience, and this works. Ample use is made of music, and here again we are not subjected to a monotonous rehash of pseudo-Jacobean music but rather the very appropriate use of drums and snatches of melody and dissonance.

The honour of the evening must go to the director, Stephen Unwin, who is shortly leaving his post of Artistic Director of the company he founded, English Touring Theatre. He has many successes to his credit, ranging from Shakespeare to Ibsen, Brecht and beyond. He now presents us with a fascinating interpretation of The Changeling. Unwin believes that a play should speak for itself. In this production he has truly allowed a difficult voice to be heard, listened to and understood.

As Jacobean as The Changeling is, it was equally made for the 20th-century. (It prospers on television.) But being fashionable does not help. Perhaps the empty seats reflected a fatigue of interest. This ETT staging, however, is a real version of the play – not a statistic.

Put on a pedestal by the male chauvinists around her, Beatrice-Joanna believes rank and the service it commands mean she can reinvent moral law as she wishes. (Anna Koval looks like the currently deified Angelina Jolie.) Her ‘true love’ Alsemero thinks they are Romeo and Juliet; her doting, domineering father thinks her Eve fresh from the rib. The former thinks marriage the re-entry to Eden, the latter, confirmation of the dynastic certainties of rank. Beatrice-Joanna thinks a true marriage exonerates delegated murder. (The unfolding plot brings real shocks!) Not just the canny friends and servants in the play – but even her partner in nemesis, Deflores – are crucially deluded.

The subplot is thematic counterpoint: but here the madhouse is metaphor for the main milieu. Appearance deceives us. The masque (of madmen and fools) for the wedding suggests that we are all deluded slaves to our desires. It exemplifies the general “giddy turning” the heroine first notices in herself. (The ceiling of the madhouse has always seemed the floor of Beatrice-Joanna’s chamber.)

The age was truly brutal. While not Shakespeare, Middleton and Rowley do admit compassion. While suitably gory, this production is not gratuitously so. (See this more than once – but not the same week.)

The play diagnoses rather than celebrates tragically. (Is that why it is perfect for Unwin, a master of Ibsen?) The whole company’s gusto lifts the play – even the lamely Jacobean bits. The master ideas of the text are perfectly projected. (The play may be in vogue – but its interest is far from exhausted.) At the close brittle idealism has collapsed into hideous parody. Not that moralising male chauvinists admit their unwitting collusion! Divinely endorsed hierarchy is dowsed in medieval ideas of hell. But peculiarly modern it remains. The ‘fan’ of Jane Austen’s Emma and George Eliot’s Gwendolen – and of Heathcliff and Rochester – will find affinities in Beatrice-Joanna and Deflores. See this: and read Bawcutt’s edition.