The opening of the superb Swan Theatre in 1986 remains one of my finest theatrical memories. The play chosen to launch it however – the long neglected Two Noble Kinsman, instantly faded from my recall.
Just why became apparent as I read it, for this thirtieth anniversary revival. It was Shakespeare’s last play, written jointly with John Fletcher. And all the worse for that. Yet there’s merit in it, and added value via award winning director, Blanche McIntyre.
A full synopsis is essential to understanding, but the main story is of two young warriors, cousins, intimate friends and captives of war. Their mutual devotion evaporates, when both fall in love with a beautiful girl seen from their prison window. One is released and takes to the woods to remain close to his dream of love, whilst the other is freed by the gaoler’s daughter. Fixated with a romantic ideal and the apparent demands of chivalry, they seek resolution in mortal combat.
The original play was based upon Chaucer’s Greek legend The Knight’s Tale. Here judging from the costumes and props, its set somewhere between antiquity and 2016, but there’s a gain in hedonistic vitality and modern relevance.
McIntyre amplifies hints of sexual ambiguity in the text to fire new flames of tension. Duke Theseus (Gyuri Sarossy) is more interested in a male friend than his Amazon bride Hippolyta, whose anger and insecurity bubble under the surface, in an aggressively Scottish performance by Allison Mc Kenzie.
Emilia, Hippolyta’s sister and the idealised girl at the window, speaks of her consuming love when young for a girl who died. But women in this world are in reality mere chattels. She must marry one of the suitors, and a taut anxiety in Frances McNamee’s characterisation, hints at a wish for no man at all.
The play belongs to the love rivals, and James Corrigan as Palamon and Jamie Wilkes as Arcite, hammer it home with attractive manliness and humour derived from the former’s pomposity. Their close bond is under the microscope too. Yet, whatever its nature, the tender concern they show one another whilst arming to fight is truly touching.
There’s something of Shakespeare revisiting his old hits, with the royals and the forest from Midsummers Night Dream, and the lewdest Morris dancing troop you ever saw, as a substitute for the rude mechanicals.
In a tedious subplot Ophelia from Hamlet is reimagined as the gaoler’s daughter, maddened by unrequited love from the socially superior Palomon. Danusia Samal draws out all the available pathos, but poor writing is an insuperable obstacle.
The first half is made to work, but this loose, unedited collaboration falls apart the closer it gets to end of a long 2 hours 35 minutes. And there is no eternal theme to ruminate upon. Fun is poked at excesses of honour but chivalry – today we’d call it butchery – is given full sway.
Shakespeare would certainly not have wanted Kinsmen as his epitaph, but this production mines the gold amongst the dust. ★★★☆☆ Derek Briggs 22nd September 2016
Photo by Donald Cooper © RSC
