girl, pen: Kenneth Branagh Theatre Company's 'The Winter's Tale' at the Garrick Theatre

Kenneth Branagh Theatre Company's 'The Winter's Tale' at the Garrick Theatre

By Anonymous 06:42

Christmas came early for me this November in form of Kenneth Branagh Theatre Company's The Winter's Tale. And I didn't even have to faff about with wrapping paper.

Tom Bateman as Florizel and Jessie Buckley as Perdita. Photo by Johan Persson.

Under Branagh's excellent direction, The Winter's Tale comes to life as the play of contrasts it ought to be. The staging, for example, carries this juxtaposition through the production. We open to a Winter Wonderland; the Sicilian court is aglow with twee, miniature Christmas village details and mildly laughable ice-skating. The second half curtain ascends to its antithesis; the polar (or, rather, solar) opposite of a steamy, dusky Bohemia. The production in this respect moves nimbly with the play's own jarring tonal shift from tragedy to comedy. The Bohemian festival was a particular highlight; Jessie Buckley and Tom Bateman were breathtaking as the passionate young lovers Perdita and Florizel. Their endearing and playful promiscuity built to a dance sequence which was nothing short of a festive gypsy orgy. If our first half in Leontes' court of Sicily sparks the fuse of an uptight, mistaken jealousy, Bohemia stands apart as the embodiment of free love in its uninhibited and fiery full blaze.

Naturally, Branagh excelled in his role as the rapidly-jealous, rapidly-repentant patriarch. With a tactile affection for both Hermione and Polixenes, the emotional attachments and sense of betrayal when his mistaken jealousy erupts were genuine - and genuinely moving. Branagh was bravely physical in his portrayal, visceral and vicious towards Hermione (Miranda Raison), the infant Perdita and particularly Paulina (Judi Dench). What I loved about the scenes of Leontes' uncontrollable rage was the text came to life on stage in shades far beyond Branagh's performance. For example, that fantastically acrid introduction of father to newborn daughter took place over a fire pit, making all Leontes' imagery of burning babies and Paulina an all-to0-real threat.

The tension and sparring between Leontes and Paulina was a further treat to watch. Occasionally, however, it felt as if Branagh was rushing through some of his smaller speeches; those whose purpose was more exposition than the poetry of his character's soul. (Shakespeare's admin, as I like to call it.) This was compensated for slightly, however, by his effortless relish in Leontes' more poignant and aggressive scenes. His senseless rage in the opening half turned to a numbing regret and Branagh was able to negotiate this vast range with style.

Hadley Fraser as Polixenes and Kenneth Branagh as Leontes. Photo by Johan Persson.

Given the calibre of this production's headlining duo, the standout performances of Jessie Buckley's captivating Perdita, Hadley Fraser's affectionate yet explosive Polixenes and John Dagleish’s charismatic Autolycus are particularly commendable.

In his direction, Branagh has the sense to spot what is usually missing from Shakespeare's plays and bring it to the fore in this production; mothers. Judi Dench (Paulina) and Miranda Raison (Hermione) each lace their portrayals with a measured, maternal composure. As Branagh's Leontes descends into a destructive, childlike rage their roles were not to scold or beg - as is often played - but rather to appease. Calmly, gently, this mothering stillness nursed the production's mounting sense of heartbreak. This characterisation suited Dench's stage presence particularly well. Like a silent storm, Dench commanded the stage with a masterful mix of power and composure.

Visually, Branagh's penchant for translating Shakespeare onto the big screen gives this production a tangible, dynamic flavour. Particularly in the blaze of Leontes' jealous rage, scenes fly hot on the heels of one another with an agitated soundtrack, like quick fire shots in a film. The pace of Branagh's impetuous Leontes is a driving force as he rushes around the stage, spiraling physically as well as mentally out of control and using this rashness to flesh out the often under-motivated imprisonment of Hermione.

Branagh's Leontes has jumped stumbled, blind, onto a runaway train and this is fully embodied within the cinematic flurry of this production.

Kenneth Branagh as Leontes. Photo by Johan Persson

I do, however, find it hard to reconcile the production's sentimental and redemptive ending with the strong portrayal of Leontes’ affection for Mamilius (Rudi Goodman) from the start. To give Leontes the role of rounded father and then to close the play with a Christmas-card family reunion necessarily jars with me. Are we to believe Leontes' and Hermione could ever gloss over the death of their beloved son as this production suggests? Hermione steps down from her icy monument and thaws the winter of Leontes' court, but the audience is undoubtedly left with the chilling remembrance of the lost Mamillius.

The unfortunate prince says himself, "a sad tale's best for winter". Through this production's side-stepping -somewhat ungracefully- the play's more honest and bitter ending, perhaps the KBTC argue a sentimental tale's best for winter. The pure strength of this production is in that it has me so close to agreeing.