The Forsyte Saga, Parts 1 and 11 (Swan, Stratford on Avon)
Verdict: Victorian values
What is it to be a Forsyte, asks Fleur Forsyte, thoroughly modern in her Twenties bob and daring slacks, as she looks back in wonder at the ‘soil’ she grew in. Soil indeed. By the end of Lin Coghlan and Shaun McKenna’s lean filleting of John Galsworthy’s fat Victorian family saga about inheritance — of money, property, feuds, bad blood and good character — Fleur’s question has been intricately answered, with the savage intensity of Greek tragedy.
Less is more in Josh Roche’s highly-charged, expertly-performed production, the stage bare but for red curtains, red carpet, a few chairs.Â
Costumes take us back to the bad old days when wives — in corsets — were, by law, the property of rigidly respectable husbands, in black frock coats, like undertakers. None more so than her father, Soames (superb Joseph Millson, deep-frozen yet seething, hateful but pitiful) then married to his first wife, the bewitching, exquisite Irene (Fiona Hampton, restrained yet infinitely expressive).
Dangerous liaison: Irene Forsyte (Fiona Hampton) dances with Philip Bosinney (Andy Rush)
The Forsytes are aghast when she and Bosinney, the architect Soames appoints to build his new country mansion fall madly in love. Her reasons are perfectly clear: Andy Rush’s expansive Bosinney is everything a buttoned-up Forsyte is not.
The assembled family watch them dance, the frisson between them ‘like a sudden flare of a match in a darkened room’. A few words speak volumes. ‘Why do you still want me?’ Irene asks Soames. ‘Because you are mine.’ When he rapes her, he states: ‘We’re husband and wife again.’
Genes will out: Soames Forsyte (Joseph Millson) and his daughter Fleur (Flora Spencer-Longhurst) are cut from the same entitled cloth
Hot and cold lighting (Alex Musgrave) and an everchanging soundscape (Max Pappenheim) whisk the action from suffocating confrontations, awkward family gatherings to romantic bluebell woods where emotions are unbuttoned. The first part can stand alone but the second develops intriguingly as Fleur (Flora Spencer Longhurst), as entitled, obsessive and possessive as her father, preys upon Irene’s son Jon (Andy Rush again). Enthralling theatre. Every second counts.
Until January 10, Swan Theatre, Stratford on Avon.
AÂ Christmas Carol (Crucible, Sheffield)
Verdict: Sheffield-made
With its mighty moral message and lashings of jollity, Dickens’s A Christmas Carol has become a reliable festive staple. There’s greed, ghosts and goodwill aplenty at the Crucible. But director Elin Schofield has laced the old recipe with local flavour, her special ingredient the famous Sheffield Carols.
When a joyless, Scrooge-like Queen Victoria banished carols from churches, defiant Sheffield folk moved them into their ale houses and made them their own. Deftly woven into Aisha Khan’s fresh yet faithful adaptation, their blend of earthy warmth with sacred mirth enhance and enrich this beautifully-costumed, well-staged production.
Bah humbug: When Queen Victoria banned Christmas carols from churches, the people of Sheffield sang them in the pubs instead, and made them their own. Scrooge still disapproves
‘Hail Smiling Morn’ rings out in full-bodied acapella harmonies and strong local accents — until Ian Midlane’s killjoy, Christmas-cancelling Scrooge orders the carollers to shut up.
Another song, ‘Six Jolly Miners’, makes ‘the kettle sing’ — albeit metaphorically. Many of Matthew Malone’s marvellous arrangements are wordless, none more atmospheric than the echoing ‘Sweet Chiming Bells’.
A cheery lad (Mel Lowe) serves as the narrator, conjuring the story of miserly Scrooge for the amusement of his impoverished siblings who believe that Christmas is not ‘for the likes us’. But there’s never a doubt that little Tilly won’t get her wished-for dolly.
Seeing the light: Scrooge (Ian Midlane) is transformed by the spirits of Christmas
For, in spite of Midlane’s grumpy expression, his cuddly, inner-Father Christmas is bursting to get out from the start. Even his ‘bah humbugs’ are subdued.
The visitations from the Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present reveal how a young, unloved Ebenezer grows up into a Scrooge who doesn’t know how to love. It is only when the chilling Ghost of Christmas Future, a mute figure in black, suggests that a dead Scrooge will neither be missed nor mourned, that Ebenezer becomes panic-stricken.
His transformation is instantaneous for, in a flash, a beaming Santa Scrooge sources a supersize turkey with all the trimmings — and stages a merry Christmas, with everyone on song. Joyous.
Until January 10 at Sheffield Crucible
