A WOMAN KILLED WITH KINDNESS, till 5 June
A WOMAN KILLED WITH KINDNESS: Thomas Heywood
Northern Broadsides: touring with Henry V till 5 June (www.northern-broadsides.co.uk)
Runs: 2h 30m, one interval
Review: Rod Dungate, Warwick Arts Centre, 12 March 2003
Rutter has polished a little gem for us – deceptively complex, well worth making the effort to see.
Heywood's play begins as it has no intention of continuing. It looks as if it's going to be rather a romp but once he gets going he soon has you considering the moral complexities of marriage. Rutter's production goes hell for leather for the play's changeable tones allowing us to make sense of it – and it's well worth the effort.
Two parallel love affairs – husband and wife John and Anne Frankford, and Francis Acton with Susan Mountford. Neatly constructed, while one goes from loathing to joy (Acton/Mountford), the other goes from joy to loathing and eventually to poignant and moving tragedy (Mr and Mrs Frankford). Heywood's play is full of sudden reversals of fortune and instant fallings in and out of love. But this is no criticism: he is using popular culture (just as popular then, it would seem, as it is now) to explore his ideas.
Heywood sets himself insoluble moral conundrums. Anne Frankford is unfaithful to her husband, who, deeply in love with her, deals with the situation in an extraordinarily human way. He throws the lover out (unharmed) and sends his wife to live apart in one of his mansions. And he can't bear to be reminded of her, such is his pain. As she lies dying of remorse Heywood scales his greatest height, Frankford marries her again, restoring to her, her titles of wife and mother. Richard Standing (Frankford) climbs Heywood's heights marvellously: quiet, unassertive at the opening (would we notice him at a party?) he grows in stature in front of our eyes. His final conversion at the conclusion is played with great conviction tearing us apart as much as he is torn himself. His command of the language also enables us to see clearly the sweep of Heywood's design.
Complexities surrounding women's honour are never far from the surface at this time. In this play Charles Mountford persuades his sister to offer her honour to pay off his debts. Both characters are wracked with pain, confusion and distress: qualities that Andrew Vincent and Nicola Sanderson make real for us, dragging us into their dilemma.
And then there are the servants. These are no ciphers but warm filled-out flesh and blood: they have feelings, they think about things and they gossip. Andrew Whitehead (Jenkin – ever after promotion) is particularly watchable, the tiniest bit of camp adding a delicious naughtiness. Adam Sunderland's Nick is a great joy – youthful, vigorous, generous but with his feet firmly on the ground. If you had a servant, this would be the sort of servant you'd want (but you'd not get him on the minimum wage.)
Barrie Rutter as polished a little gem in this production, and we owe him for doing it. At times the verse speaking is a little over careful leading to some mis-emphases, but it's early days yet. Overall, the language is remarkably direct and accessible which says much for the company's skill.
John Frankford: Richard Standing
Anne Frankford: Maeve Larkin
Wendoll: John Gully
Sir Charles Mountford: Andrew Vincent
Susan Mountford: Nicola Sanderson
Sir Francis Action: Paul Barnhill
Cranwell: Jason Furnival
Malby: Andy Hockley
Old Mountford: Tim Barker
Tydy: Frank Moorey
Sandy: Roy North
Roder: David Bowen
Shafton: Guy Parry
Nick: Adam Sunderland
Jenkin: Adam Sunderland
Spiggott: Dennis Conlon
Sisly: Jacqueline Redgewell
Director: Barrie Rutter
Designers: Giuseppe Belli and Emma Barrington-Binns
Composer, Assistant Director: Conrad Nelson
Lighting: Kay Packwood
2003-03-13 14:14:18