THE MAYOR OF ZALAMEA. To 6 March.
Liverpool
THE MAYOR OF ZALAMEA
by Pedro Calderon de la Barca translated by Gwenda Pandolfini adapted by Adrian Mitchell
Everyman Theatre To 6 March 2004
Mon-Sat 7.45pm Mat 25 Feb 1.30pm & 6 March 2pm
Audio-described 3 March
BSL Signed 5 March
TICKETS: 0151 709 4776
www.everymanplayhouse.com
Review: Timothy Ramsden 18 February
A bold, clear production that signals Liverpool's once again a city with ambitious theatre.Military sounds- a drum, marching feet - surround this revival of Adrian Mitchell's 1980 Cottesloe Theatre adaptation of Calderon's 17th century Spanish drama. Between, the army tramples on the lives of a small-town's citizens, the high-flown notions of Paul Bhattacharjee's officer about only loving a well-born lady souring - as we suspect they might, given the curl of his lip - into the abduction and rape of peasant-girl Isabel, daughter of Pedro Crespo.
If a classical, Catholic discussion of honour seems a remote prospect, imagine the play (it's based on a real-life event) were called The Mayor of Guantanamo. For, though the crime's undoubted, the question of civil versus military justice, and their outcomes, rebounds off modern issues.
And when the town, unaware of Isabel's fate, appoints wise Pedro mayor and magistrate, he tries his daughter's abductor - imprisoning his own soldier son for striking an officer as sign he's thinking impartially: all the evidence is signed and sealed.
It's a complex story - like La Celestina or Romeo and Juliet a substantial early part might be the comedy of everyday life. Only the lowering lust of several soldiers remains ominous through the first half.
At the centre too is the new-formed friendship of two remarkable - and remarkably well-acted - characters. Richard Bremmer's senior officer and Michael Byrne's Pedro are both strong-willed yet recognise each other's qualities. It's a comic relationship- if Don Lope has an injured leg, his host Pedro wants to know which one so he can feel sympathy pains in his own. If one kicks over a stool, the other does likewise.
But the demands of law and honour make them implacable (though still with a human touch in Don Lope's 'I might have known' response to learning his friend is the Mayor who's condemned the erring officer) - only a royal arrival prevents all-round disaster.
Bremmer's tall, lean figure has the look of a Don Quixote, though in character terms that part falls to James Wallace's Don Mendo- the fresh-faced ex-Varsity picture of 'a somewhat impoverished, pretentious knight', if a character who later fades from the action. Don Lope's to be taken very seriously, and Bremmer skilfully keeps the human balance of friendship and duty.
Soutra Gilmour's design provides a burnished cross-section flooring - at once religious symbol and practical meeting-place of roads. Spiritual concerns and daily realism are present in Adrian Mitchell's fluently pointed script, creating space for Byrne's Mayor-in-the-making.
Walking with feet ever close to the ground, Pedro wants no false honours or titles, preferring his neighbours' respect. It's a dry-voiced, deep-considered portrayal of a socially common, personally very uncommon, man - a centre-piece for a production in which artistic director Gemma Bodinetz has set herself a high standard of bold repertoire and perceptive, script-mining theatricality by which to be judged.
Let's hope she can keep this quality of actor - other honours include Nick Bagnall's Sancho Panza-like squire and Annabelle Dowler's excellent feisty female, features ever on the lookout, always speaking her mind. And of production team - Adam Silverman's lighting, brightening a way up the street where the lovely Isabel lives, creating a rich golden intensity when the military break into her attic hideaway and other beautifully telling moments, is gloriously conceived.
Only one quarrel: the long account of Isabel's dishonour is given with all the character's psychological disturbance realistically trembling in her voice. Chipo Chung, as she showed in her Southampton Ophelia, is a strong actor, but the direction needs to take a more formal approach - emotion at this length and directness works best through formalised restraint rather than floods of overt expression. It's the one point where the action, and opportunity for dynamic staging, halts and the least successful part of a fine revival.
After the First Night, Bodinetz spoke of her love for the Everyman, and feeling the company had taken a first step to reviving Liverpool's theatres. With the city's Culture Capital title only 4 years away, there's a lot of external cred. placed on her getting it right.
I'd prefer to say she's shown up fit at the starting-gate. The Everyman is loveable, but the Playhouse - other half of the enterprise - is more like a respected elder relative who has to show she can still kick out.
And while the strong input of visiting productions reflects the enriched provision of high-quality touring productions available for this size space, there was a time when both theatres (rather than, as now, one at any time) were mounting home-grown productions - including many new plays, while the Playhouse Studio - currently shut - was injecting more new drama into Merseyside.
There's a long way to go, and the new plays are still to come; but at least we now know the hands-on the city's theatres are loving and highly capable.
Rebolledo: Nick Moss
La Chispa/Ines: Annabelle Dowler
Sergeant: Paul M Meston
Captain Don Alvaro: Paul Bhattacharjee
Don Mendo: James Wallace
Nuno: Nick Bagnall
Pedro Crespo: Michael Byrne
Juan: Matthew Flynn
Isabel: Chipo Chung
Don Lope De Figueroa: Richard Bremmer
Soldiers/Farmers: David Francis, Kyle Thomas, Knut-Oyvind Hagen, James Parkes, Mareike Wang, Stuart Ward
Director: Gemma Bodinetz
Designer: Soutra Gilmour
Lighting: Adam Silverman
Sound: Sean Pritchard
Composer/Musical Director: Conor Linehan
Fight director: Malcom Ranson
Movement: Jane Gibson
2004-02-20 14:20:05