No 37 -- Summer 1991 Edited by Michael Walters
It seemed odd to be coming back after all these years, to see the "DOC" at Sadlers Wells Theatre, though perhaps the company should really be called "Not the D'Oyly Carte"? Having read devastating reviews of the new GONDOLIERS, I came prepared to hate this IOLANTHE, but in fact (to my surprise) I quite enjoyed it. I wasn't able to listen to the Overture properly, owing to herds of elephants thundering past to their seats most of the way through it. It was also not pleasant to realise on curtain–up that the fairies were dressed in art deco. To one who hates art deco this was not a good start. (Besides, it is not very original to have flapper fairies, it has already been done, notably by Barnes and Richmond Operatic Society some years back. Was this producer rediscovering the wheel?) The set was a great curving ramp which went up stage right and along the back, with a few symbolic trees on the left. For Act 2, the ramp remained, and the trees were replaced by some oddly proportioned models of the Victoria Tower and the Houses of Parliament, which turned into a cocktail cabinet, and the Lord Chancellor's bed, respectively. The stage pictures were quite pretty but on the whole the production tended to be gimmicky. I could see no reason for the art deco, except to be different – the whole point about fairies, surely, is that they should be seen to be timeless – what is the purpose of tying them to a particular fashion and period?
However, the good points of the performance lay in the excellent cast – the strongest I have seen assembled for a G&S production for a long time. Far and away the best was Jill Pert as the Fairy Queen. If the interpretation erred at all it was in the direction of making the Queen too human, too vulnerable, too real. But listening to and watching it was sheer joy. Contraltos tend to be bombastic in this role, the lines rolling off authoritatively – Jill Pert showed how warm, how intelligent the Queen could be. She got more out of it than anyone else I have seen. For the first time, the New DOC got the casting of the comic baritone right, by opting for an actor who can sing. Russell Dixon was trained at the Bristol Old Vic and has created a number of roles in plays by Alan Ayckbourn at Scarborough (including Dafydd in A Chorus of Disapproval). He was a sturdy, whimsical Lord Chancellor, quite unlike the customary egocentric "look how funny I am" baritones previously seen in this role. Laurence Richard was a vintage portly Mountararat in the Donald Adams style, who was allowed to sing "When Britain really ruled the waves" perfectly straight, about the only number in the show which was staged without people rushing distractingly round the stage. However, I totally failed to see the reason why he had to appear for part of Act 2 in a bathchair with his foot in plaster.
Philip Creasy seemed to be playing Tolloller as a take off of Ronnie Corbett. The director evidently thought the George/Thomas scene was very boring, for he contrived to have an attendant mixing cocktails all the way through it, thus ensuring that no–one listened to the words. Phyllis (Elizabeth Woollett) and Strephon (Philip Blake–Jones) appeared as traditional Dresden figurines in Act 1, Strephon changing into diplomatic dress for the finale, which he wore for the rest of the performance. Phyllis for Act 2 wore a most unbecoming 1920s black evening dress. They both sang and acted adequately without creating memorable personalities. Regina Hanley was an adequate but pallid Iolanthe, John Rath a stolid Willis.
In this production justice was done to Sullivan, but not much to Gilbert – with the notable exception of Jill Pert, who had an insight into her role apparently not posessed by anyone else connected with the production. The attitude of the director, Andrew Wickes, seemed to be to make it look pretty, end of assignment. (Incidentally, the costumes seem to have been altered since the production was first mounted, the photograph of the Fairy Queen which appeared on the posters, and indeed on the front cover of the programme, was not the one used in the production – that one could be seen ilustrated inside the programme!) Iolanthe made her entrance from a hole in the ramp from which dry ice mist billowed. It was quite effective in an odd gimmicky sort of way. At the opening the fairies were serving and drinking tea from trays and a trolly beautifully laid out with petit fours, a jelly, etc. Yes, all very pretty no doubt – but what on earth had it to do with Gilbert's text? One almost expected them to break into a number from Thoroughly Modern Millie! Yes, as I said, I quite enjoyed it, but I didn't stay for the curtain calls, and I left with no real desire to see the production again. It certainly told me nothing about Gilbert that I didn't know before.
MICHAEL WALTERS
Web page created 12 September 1998