KING JOHN - REVIEW

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KING JOHN - REVIEW

Theresa Malone

 

guardian.co.uk

21 May 2012

 

Shakespeare's Globe, London

 

King John 'The women steal the show' ... King John performed in

Armenian. Photograph: Simon Annand

 

The Latin for apricot, says the very informative Armenian gentleman

sitting beside me, is prunus armenicus (Aremnian plum). He's telling

me this because the Globe has been filled with the sound of the duduk,

an instrument traditionally made from the wood of an apricot tree,

as the Sundukyan Theatre's production of King John gets off to an

exuberant start.

 

It may have been written by Shakespeare as a tragedy, but tonight's

performance, directed by Tigran Gasparyan, tends to focus more

on comedy. The play opens as characters laugh and joke noisily,

while musicians play Armenian folk. Actors enter carrying large

old-fashioned trunks (and one or two wheely suitcases) - an apt

recognition, perhaps, of the large proportion of tonight's audience,

who have at some point made the journey from Armenia to settle in the

UK. At different points in the play these trunks are thrown around

the stage, used as thrones, battlefield barricades, a hiding place

for the King, and even as the characters' emotional baggage.

 

King John himself is portrayed as a boisterous, larger-than-life

and at times clown-like figure by Armen Marutyan, who often pulls a

leather crown from his pocket, tossing it into the air before placing

it firmly on to his head to assert his right to the throne. Tigran

Nersisyan's Bastard cuts a dashing, charismatic figure, and is by

far the most earnest of the cast (though even he can't resist joking

with the audience from time to time), while Arthur, the young French

prince who has to plead for his life, is introduced as a lackadaisical

drunk. The snide cardinal Pandolph is yet another figure of fun,

whose stiff movements and camp manner have the audience chuckling

from his first appearance.

 

It is the female characters, though, who provide show-stealing

performances. Nelly Kheranyan is superb as the wizened, bald,

stick-wielding hag Queen Eleanor, whose spider-like movements around

the stage seem to genuinely terrify her fellow cast members. She and

Constance, played by Alla Vardanyan, have to be physically restrained

by the men, as they face off in defence of their sons in a scene which

veers towards slapstick, with the King bending over to slap his own

bottom at Constance, and Louis catapulted into a forward somersault

as he tries to hold his mother back. Even the clarinet player gets

in on the act, providing humorous sound effects.

 

Lady Blanche (Liana Arestakyan), designated a floozie from the off

with her bright red tights, delivers what you could say was the climax

of the show when, devastated at the thought of her new husband Louis

going off to war, she attempts to shag him into submission.

 

This performance, once it comes to a head, even earns her a standing

ovation from the cast (whether those audience members with very young

children felt quite the same way is another question).

 

The second half sees some enjoyable comic interaction between Hubert,

the simple fool, and King John. Skipping a few bits of the story from

acts four and five, John's sudden death is witnessed only by Hubert,

who immediately takes the king's leather coat and crown for himself -

a fitting ending to a performance which saw the comedy in tragedy at

every turn.