The Winter’s Tale is a series of dares for a director. Not only the mingling of dream and action, wish and fear. But those terrifying implausibilities: the sudden jealousy of Leontes; the appearance of the bear; the coming to life of Hermione’s statue.
Cheek by Jowl’s modern-dress production, directed by Declan Donnellan and designed by Nick Ormerod, doesn’t get over all the difficulties. Despite a beguiling comic performance by Ryan Donaldson as Autolycus, the pastoral scenes are wasted in a welter of updating: the whole thing is turned into a lurid TV chat show. Yet elsewhere are shafts of that wonderful illumination this company habitually throws on Shakespeare – literally so, in the case of Judith Greenwood’s dramatic lighting.
The jealousy scenes are animated by unusual febrility. Orlando James’s Leontes is from the beginning strained, given to sudden hugs and sudden withdrawals, walking away. When the verdict of the Oracle, denouncing him, is read out, he bursts into hysterical laughter. The sheer number of reactions is greater than usual and helps to stretch the action, making his jealousy look more intricate. It also looks like a family failing. Tom Cawte makes the often weedy part of Mamillius into something riveting. Cawte, who is 20 and went into the company without drama school training, makes himself look like a tantruming infant. His energy is unstable: thwarted in anything, he wails, flings himself to the ground. He is a terrifying mini-Leontes.
The coming to life of Hermione’s statue is wonderfully framed, with Natalie Radmall-Quirke seated, draped like a Sargent painting – though too low down for the instruction for her to “descend” to make sense. Radmall-Quirke is a mellifluous but marmoreal Hermione. Up to this point, the interpretation looked limited: now her qualities come into their own.
Sadly the bear is a washout. In Ormerod’s stripped-back staging, most of the action takes place in front of a large wooden crate over which videos speed. The rampaging creature is disappointingly virtual: no furry beast shambling in, just a blurry image played on those crates, towards which his supper (a court servant) seems to run. Why should the dare of this comic death be dodged when the poignant rebirth is not?
• At the Barbican, London until 22 April. The Winter’s Tale will be streamed live on 19 April at 7.30pm, and will be available on-demand until 7th May
