‘Measure for Measure’ at Shakespeare’s Globe
I promised I would do a review, and here it is!
Dominic Dromgoole’s Measure for Measure is a mixed bag of really quite wonderful performances and some serious melodrama. Despite the fact that Mariah Gale’s Isabella has been the most talked about, Dominic Rowan’s Vicentio is the standout performance, right from the start. The effect of his imposing stature and regal costuming are delightfully undermined by a great uncertainty and charming sort of awkwardness. It’s not at all what you expect from the highest ranking character on the stage, and it’s utterly delightful to watch. In this version of the story, Vincentio is a bumbling statesman who’s completely in over his head, who has no idea how to interact with his cartoonish cast of subjects, but who really does have a heart of gold. He is the play’s narrative and moral center–which is as problematic as it is refreshing.
As much fun as it is to watch Rowan’s overwhelmed Duke juggle disguises and contend with the lowest common denominators of Vienna, sometimes the slapstick is so over-the-top that it’s actually impossible to hear what any of the characters are saying (this coming from a groundling at the very lip of the stage–I can only imagine how confused the people who paid for actual seats must have been.) A standout example is the attempted arrest of the tapster, which dissolves into such anarchy that lines are lost before they even reach the other actors, never mind the audience. It’s funny for sure, but it feels forced, and one has to wonder if a few moments of Three Stooges humor are really worth compromising the spectators’ understanding of the play.
This penchant for extremity is not limited to the comedic, however. Gale’s Isabella is equally overdone. From her very first entrance she is trembling and weeping. It’s utterly exhausting to watch, and because she’s shown her hand right from the start, her moaning and wailing not only ceases to be afflicting, but dooms her to playing the same note for the entire play. When you start out at level ten, there’s simply nowhere else to go. The result is that her performance feels two-dimensional–as if she’s simply saying, “Look! I can cry on cue! And I can do it for hours!“ Instead of being (as she should) the strong moral center of the production, Isabella becomes a weak and largely unsympathetic character. It’s difficult to care what becomes of her.
There’s a reprieve, thankfully, from all this breast-beating, and it comes in the form of Rosie Hilal’s Mariana. Here is a woman whose plight we can sympathize with–not because it’s any more worthy than Isabella’s (in fact it’s rather the opposite), but because Hilal does more than sob and flail around. She’s composed and articulate at first, and because we’re allowed to see her character in a relatively stable mental state (a luxury we literally never get with Isabella), when she does reach a point of desperation, it’s not only more convincing, but arouses much greater empathy. Mariana is a woman in trouble. Isabella is a child throwing a two-hour tantrum.
Of course, one can’t watch Measure for Measure without addressing Isabella’s problematic final silence. In this particular production, it comes as a bit of a relief because it’s one of the few moments where Isabella actually stops crying. The proposal feels terribly timed and wildly out of place, but thanks to the consistent bumbling of Rowan’s Vincentio, the result is funny and charming instead of painfully uncomfortable. Isabella seems to be in shock, shuts her mouth and slumps into a chair, leaving the poor to Duke to recover as gracefully as possible. A few minutes later he tentatively offers his hand. She rises and approaches to accept it. But this gesture has no sense of finality, because the actors immediately break into a tableau, followed by a rather aggressive jig. It’s a bewildering finale.
All that being said, the production is, without a doubt, enjoyable. Personally I have never found Measure for Measure particularly funny or particularly compelling, and shockingly in spite of the enormous problem of Isabella, the Globe manages to make it both.
Agree with all of this (although Mark Rylance’s duke will always be my favourite) - especially about Gale.
My problem with the way Isabella is portrayed in general is that people always take the ‘too pure for this world’ approach (Desdemona in Othello is often treated this way too - which is why Joanna Vanderham’s recent portrayal at the RSC was so refreshing - if a little rough around the edges). Her first lines surely have to be ironic - I mean, this is SHAKESPEARE we’re talking about. You can’t tell me this is meant to be played straight:
Isabella: And have you nuns no farther privileges?
Francesca: Are not these large enough?
Isabella: Yes, truly. I speak not as desiring more, but rather wishing a more strict restraint upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.
She may be pious but she is about to make an enormous commitment and her introduction demonstrates uncertainty. But she’s a quick thinker; she knows what people want to hear, she knows how to play the game. And she’s an excellent debater - some might say manipulative - she is able to work her way around every single character in the play with language, even though she has so little physical power or status.
And she should be FIERCE. Gale reached a pretty impressive level of rage eventually, but by then - as you said - the audience had been saturated by her angst, and it didn’t have the impact it could have. The words Isabella spits at Angelo and Claudio are not mild and meek - they are full of blood and ire and righteous fury. She is an intelligent woman stuck in an impossible position, not only faced with a moral and spiritual dilemma but the deeply traumatic threat of sexual violence, too.
I never know what to make of the ending - so much depends on the portrayal of the Duke and the chemistry created between him and Isabella. If you turn Isabella into 2-dimensional paragon of purity, the coupling doesn’t work. But if you give her a spark of indecision throughout the play and show her strength growing as she finds her voice then it’s more believable that she might accept a position alongside the duke - though I’d like to see this as more of a political decision rather than a romantic one. In the Globe performance, Gale simply looked exhausted and resigned to her fate as a pawn. Certainly a thought-provoking ending, but nothing new.
