Theatre
If you want blood
by Natasha Hay
John Webster’s revenge tragedy The Duchess of Malfi is a dark thrillfest with a body count to rival a Tarantino film. Running through the bloodthirsty plot, full of sex and moral decay, is a strong vein of absurdism. Boasting gruesome treats, from severed hands and poisoned Bibles to singing lunatics, the complex play could descend into silliness.
No worries here, though. Sensual, funny and chilling, Colin McColl’s unflinchingly assured Auckland Theatre Company production also manages to extract humanity from the sadism that’s ripping apart the court of Malfi.
Brilliantly, Tony Rabbit’s austere design evokes this shadowy place of fear and intrigue by highlighting the church-like elegance of the Concert Chamber (lights placed outside illuminate the stained-glass windows) and employing a thrust stage of black sand and footlights. Costumes in black and scarlet – a foreboding of the blood to spill – signal crucial differences in status; a mix of period and modern dress reinforces the enduring themes of gender, justice and morality.
It’s an enthralling production with strong performances. Sophia Hawthorne dazzles as the Duchess – beautiful, courageous, sexually bold – whose secret marriage to her steward Antonio (Matt Wilson) propels the action. Driven by lust for his twin, crazed and dandyish Ferdinand (Benjamin Farry) hires a spy, Bosola (Michael Hurst), to watch her. As Bosola’s role turns to killer, Hurst delivers a magnificent reptilian portrayal – a study in surly menace. With his dark suit, greasy hair and gammy leg, Bosola is an outsider who has to survive in a selfish, immoral society. His torture scene with the duchess is masterful. Bound in chains, she is majestic and defiant in the flickering candlelight while he fights fits of conscience.
Another standout is Cameron Rhodes as the Duchess’s older brother, a ruthless and lecherous cardinal, who opens the show with a haunting countertenor song. Music plays an important role: a trio led by John Gibson underscores scenes with original compositions that mix madrigals and discordant cello thrums with tortured guitar riffs to reinforce the panic in the air.
There is so much to relish in McColl’s seamless production, not least the clarity of the feverish verse that throbs with emotional energy and baroque imagery. And ultimately, as all hell breaks loose, the battle between virtue and corruption is exemplified by a poetic death set against the comical exits of Bosola and the brothers, as they flail about, drooling and grubby in the sandpit.
THE DUCHESS OF MALFI, by John Webster; directed by Colin McColl, Concert Chamber, Auckland (until July 30).
