A Day Out: Stratford Upon Avon

Spoiler alert!
If you live under a Shakespeare free rock, blissfully unaware of Romeo and Juliet (or if you’re wanting to see the play and want to remain unspoiled), then I wouldn’t recommend reading any further as there’ll be some stonking huge spoilers.

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Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes,
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life,
Who misadventured piteous overthrows,
Do with their death bury their parents strife.

Everyone knows the story of Romeo and Juliet. A pair of whiny kids from a pair of families that hate each other end up thinking “I’d fuck that” and end up causing havoc, misery, and much death in Verona. The play has never been my favourite. So, when my boyfriend chose it as the one we went to see when we went to Stratford upon Avon, I had to stop myself from letting out a groan of dismay. I understand his reasoning (it’s the only one he remembers studying, and so is familiar with the text) but all the same, I could think of better plays to see. Well, not really, as I haven’t read any of the other plays that were being shown, but any was better than Romeo and Juliet!
That didn’t stop me from getting excited about it, though. It was his first ever proper experience at the theatre, and I couldn’t wait to find out what he thought of it.

We arrived at Stratford upon Avon early afternoon, and after a quick visit to the B&B to drop off our overnight stuff (the hosts weren’t there, so we ended up carrying it with us anyway), we headed into the town centre. Showing him around, I felt rather like a schoolgirl showing off her newest toys, jubilant at knowing more than he. Childish, I know. But forgive me; it’s not very often that I know more than him.
He thought it was gorgeous, although he wasn’t particularly excited by the old houses. As a re-enactor of the Jacobite Rebellion, the thrill of seeing old houses has worn off by now. I’m glad I’m not like him…I love old houses, and knowing that the wood/stone under my hand is old, made in a time so completely different to now. I still wouldn’t queue for hours and pay loads of money to go in one, though. I can’t imagine that going round Shakespeare’s house to be that thrilling. I always imagine the tour guide to be saying “And here is the outhouse where it is believed that Shakespeare went to take a dump. He kept his stash of porn just here.” It would be followed, obviously, by the “ooooh”ing of the people who paid to go on the tour, and then the frantic flashes of cameras.
Possibly not how it goes, but hell, I bet it’s 100 times more interesting.
A few hours and after a very unsatisfying dinner (for me, anyway) later, we headed back to the B&B. The man was sitting outside the house for us and gave us a very warm welcome. We were shown to our room, and, after the exhausting day that he had (ha!) Wayne proceeded to fall asleep. I joined him in the Land of Nod after a bit.

We woke at half 6 and had to leg it down to the theatre. The play started at 7.10 and, although we were only 20 minutes away from the town centre, we wanted to go in the shop and get some things first. Thankfully we made it to the theatre, took our seats, and looked forward to the play. I quickly discovered a major problem with the seat I was sitting in: while it would have been a fantastic view, it was obstructed by a pillar going up to the Gallery (we were in the Circle). Wayne’s seat was much better, and I have learned a valuable lesson: don’t go for a seat at the side of a section. I learned another lesson a few moments later: don’t leave your phone at the B&B when you go out! In the few minutes before the play, I drove Wayne mad by checking, double-checking, triple-checking (and even quadruple-checking) to make sure it wasn’t somewhere on my person, ready to go off as soon as the play began.
Then the lights went down, and a guy wandered onto stage, plugs for an mp3 player in his ears, looking thoughtful as he passed through the gate at the back. Then the play began: three men, two from the house of Montague, one from the house of Capulet, strode forward, slow-motion and, staying slow-mo (an effect that seemed to be favoured in the play), bit his thumb.

“Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?”

The fighting that followed it was impressive, with a very cool (although somewhat peculiar and unneeded) display of pyrotechnics, as one of the members of the brawling families threw a match. The training involved for the fights must have been incredible – as well as fucking hard work. You have to feel for Jonjo O’Neill, the actor playing Mercutio, for bad swordplay in the first fight would be looked over, for who can expect lower ranking people to be perfect in fighting? In his scene, which comes later, Mercutio is showing off his ability to fight, so people will criticise it more. Not that it seemed to bother him too much, for the fighting was just as brilliant and unstagey (that should do be a word) as the rest of the fights.

I get ahead of myself. Before I talk about Mercutio (wonderful though he is), I suppose I ought to talk about Romeo and Juliet, the titular couple, the star-cross’d lovers, the pair of unlikeable twerps.

Romeo’s like one of those irritating emo things that wander our streets, always looking on the bad side of life *whistles*. His puling and puppyish devotion to Rosaline, immediately dissipated when he sees Juliet, just makes me want to smack him. I feel rather like (or so I imagine), Friar Lawrence when Romeo’s threatening to kill himself.
Juliet, while a bit more tolerable than Romeo on account of her being a child and so given to flights of fancy, still irritates me. Possibly that has something to do with my hatred of her giving up her life so easily, though, and my placing my modern day morality into a play of Elizabethan values.
(Perhaps I ought to stop doing that.)
Neither of these opinions changed during the play, for better or for worse. Juliet was more childlike than usual, playing with a yoyo in her first scene and, at the party, excitedly leaping away from Romeo wearing a Cheshire cat grin as she declares “You kiss by the book!” (To the delight and laughter from the audience who, I suppose, were expecting the adult in a child’s body calmness that we usually get from the textbooks.)

Romeo was as irksome as ever, though fantastically played by Sam Troughton, who gave it his all. He really went for it, really relishing his part. Given that it’s one of the most famous of the Shakespeare plays, he had every reason to. Mariah Gale (Juliet), while not as immersed in the role as Troughton, pulled off a convincing fourteen year old. She seemed far too comfortable and at ease pulling back her skirt to show off her thigh for someone so young, but I’ll let that go. She does speak like an adult throughout the rest of the play (mostly), so I’ll pretend that her tutors gave lessons in the art of seduction.
In fact, as I remember, there was only one display of bad acting from the ensemble, and that was from Christine Entwistle (Lady Capulet). In the few lines she gets in the play, was out acted by the torch Romeo carries into the tomb. She seemed to be more wooden, more disinterested, than any other actor or actress and any emotion seemed to be completely overplayed. Take when Nurse calls her to Juliet’s room, for example. Upon discovering her daughter ‘dead’, she hitches up her skirts and runs around and around the stage, looking around like she’s trying to work out where Juliet’s spirit may have gone, so she can capture it and put it back in her child’s body. Yes, I know this is a directorial decision, but still, it shouldn’t have caused me to bite back a laugh. Even Lady Montague, who has even fewer lines than L. Capulet, managed to drum up a better performance. Perhaps Entwistle was having a bad day, but her acting was completely laughable, in my book. Which is annoying, because she was in a previous play I went to see (As You Like It – RSC 2009) and was brilliant as Phoebe.

Another thing that the play didn’t change was my love of Mercutio, that hot blooded male who is as sharp and clever with his tongue as he is with the sword. From clever word play and subtle puns to outright crudeness and depravity, the audience seemed to love his every word. It being a world apart from his role in As You Like It (where O'Neill plays the Romeo-esque character (albeit with less moping)), the actor seemed to give his role everything. He was well rewarded by the audience's reception to him: he earned the biggest laugh of the night when, “conjuring” Romeo, he started imitating swimming through someone’s arse. The Serious Shakespeare Fans (you know the ones – the old, stern-faced fellows who sit in the Stalls, faces stony, unmoving, even during the funniest of scenes) looked disapproving, but everyone else thought it was hilarious. Another particularly funny bit from him came when he launched into “You’re [Nurse is] a whore” to the tune of The Old Bamboo from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Complete with dancing.
For all the Serious Fans can look disapproving, I love the fact that the ensemble kept the Elizabethan style humour, although they had to emphasise it a little to make modern audiences appreciate it. And that’s one thing I loved about the play; it didn’t take itself too seriously. When Romeo and Juliet died, there was emotion, sure. There was a hush upon the seats as we watched the events happen, as things unfolded the way we knew they would. But, before all that, they weren't afraid to have a bit of fun with it, like it was a sacred text.

However, nothing can be perfect, and there were a few decisions that I wasn’t too impressed with. There was a very classical feel to the play - a small band to punctuate moments with music, a simple set, at the end there was an opera singer, and traditional clothing. Mostly. For some unfathomable reason, Romeo and Juliet were parading around in parkas and modern day casual wear while sharing a stage with people in full get-up. I would say this is to show how the leading characters are worlds apart from the other characters, apart from the end when the feuding families are forced to adopt their children's loving natures towards each other. This interpretation, however, is diminished by the fact that the alchemist (who provides Romeo with poison) also wears modern day clothing. If the interpretation I came up with is correct, would that mean that the alchemist holds the same good values, despite prizing money over anything else?

I could let this slide. The ultimate piss-take, however, comes in the final scene. While the modern clothing can be overlooked, what he did with the final scene completely pulled you out of the moment of tragedy. What should be a sombre, painful goodbye, a lesson to the Montagues and the Capulets, left me wondering "what?!!
After Romeo and Juliet have died, in enters an amused looking Inspector and two PCs interviewing the “suspects”. All the (still living) characters returned, apparently travelling a few hundred years into the future and donning modern dress. There was no reason for the modernisation, and, for that, it is marked down slightly.
Overall though, it was well worth the money that I spent on it, and I highly recommend it, even to the people who wouldn’t consider going to the theatre fun.

We returned to the B&B, happy after a brilliant day. After a cup of tea, we went to bed, knackered after a long day.

Play: 8/10
Trip all together: 9/10
Cost: £130 (ish) for two people (including train tickets).