THEATRE
THE DUCHESS (OF MALFI)
ROYAL LYCEUM, EDINBURGH
Reviewed by Mark Brown
Zinnie Harris, author of This Restless House (a searing adaptation of Aeschylus’s Oresteia), has established herself as one of Scotland’s finest tragedians. It is a reputation that can only be enhanced by her writing and directing of this excoriating adaptation of John Webster’s notoriously bloody revenge tragedy The Duchess of Malfi.
Harris transposes Webster’s five-act play into a tight, three-hour drama in modern dress. From the outset, when Kirsty Stuart’s widowed Duchess dismisses the outrageous demands of her two, avaricious brothers (who, mindful of their inheritance, insist on their sister’s chastity), the production brings the misogyny in the play powerfully to the fore.
Stuart’s tremendously modern Duchess is deliciously relieved at the death of her “boring” husband and (having been liberated from a politically convenient, arranged marriage) grasps her new found freedom with both hands. With the assistance of her loyal lady-in-waiting Cariola (the excellent Fletcher Mathers), she is determined to seize her chance of happiness with her beloved steward Antonio (the appropriately uncertain and besotted Graham Mackay-Bruce).
The Duchess’s leap into modern womanhood comes into direct conflict with a male chauvinism that is even more brutal than she could have expected. Her brothers, the hyper-cynical Cardinal (George Costigan on chillingly nonchalant form) and uncontrollable madman Ferdinand (played by Angus Miller with terrifying shades of Dennis Hopper), open the gates of Hell. They are accompanied by their spy and hired killer Bosola (a memorably callous, yet conflicted, Adam Best).
There is a crystalline brilliance in Harris’s combination of the Renaissance and the modern which is enhanced by Tom Piper’s stark white/grey set (slabs of concrete supporting a metal gantry). In the savage final act, it becomes (with the assistance of Jamie Macdonald’s remarkable and horrifying video projections) an appallingly current torture chamber.
Harris’s text is impressive in its poetry and rhythm, even if the latter is occasionally and needlessly interrupted. The cinematic flashing of characters’ names on the wall seems egregious, as does the projection of the play’s final two words. The musical score by Oğuz Kaplangi is atmospheric and intelligently diverse (although some of the set piece songs are more effective than others).
Ultimately, however, the production’s few shortcomings are dwarfed by its multitudinous achievements. With this Duchess Harris has another superb tragedy on her hands.
At Royal Lyceum, Edinburgh until June 8, transferring to Citizens Theatre at Tramway, Glasgow, September 4-21.
This review was originally published on the website of the Daily Telegraph on May 22, 2019
© Mark Brown
Scottish Stage 