Lorna Irvine reviews a production that's 'mostly great fun'.
"There may be trouble ahead..."
Daphne Du Maurier's classic novel is gently goosed by writer and director Emma Rice, in Kneehigh Theatre's cheeky adaptation for the stage. Once you get used to the broad comedy and less than reverent approach, it's mostly great fun. Relative newcomer Imogen Sage is Mrs De Winter, the hapless heroine, a replacement trophy wife living in the shadow of the drowned, enigmatic and glamorous Rebecca with her Bluebeard-like new husband, the older but debonair widower Maxim (Tristan Sturrock). Of course, it's not long before suspicions are raised that neither Rebecca, nor indeed Maxim himself, were as spotless as first thought, with Maxim accused of killing her in a fit of jealousy. But to say more is to say too much.
The leads are both fine, playing with the requisite period drama tropes of braying, swooning and gazing dolefully off into the middle distance, although upstaged by their supporting cast—ghastly, oversexed couple Beatrice and Giles (Lizzie Winkler and Andy Williams) Leslie Phillips-esque sex pest Favell (Ewan Wardrop) and gauche young Welsh butler Robert (Katy Owen), who bring brio to their respective oddball roles.
It's staggeringly un-PC at times—Ben, also played by Katy Owen, is a mentally ill child written with little subtlety, and there's an incredibly dubious scene where Mrs De Winter appears sexually aroused by Maxim talking of violent acts, but as the mood and tone of the second half is darker, it seems almost apposite. Nobody is reliable, the fourth wall doesn't exist and the gorgeous set by Leslie Travers becomes a Gothic shrine to Hollywood film noir.
What really elevates the production is the live music—drunken sea shanties and raucous folk tunes, with lusty harmonies by the cast along with handsome violin, mandolin and percussion. Ian Ross' score is really excellent, bringing a swagger to proceedings. At their best, they could almost be a slightly more mannered version of The Pogues. Only slightly, mind.
Some cartoonish staging choices, like the puppet dog, I could have done without, but the witty captions popping up in unexpected places really work and capture the imagination. Du Maurier would possibly have baulked at such fast and loose choices, but it rolls along nicely, frothy and playful, but creepy in all the right places.
"Let's face the music- and dance"... as the song goes.
At Kings Theatre Glasgow, 2nd-7th November
www.atgtickets.com/glasgow
www.kneehigh.co.uk
RSS