Thomas Middleton was one of Shakespeare’s contemporaries. He wrote works for most major playhouses in London during the early 17th century. However, his name doesn’t conjure the same reaction as the bard. Most people when hearing his name would probably reply with ‘Thomas Who? Does he play for Chelsea?’ I would like to count myself as one of the few who actually know his name, but alas, I cannot. Before seeing Women Beware Women at the National Theatre, I had only seen his name in passing, not knowing him from any other playwright, or football player for that matter.
There is possibly a reason for this.
Women Beware Women is a flawed piece (that seems to be my motto recently). I overheard somebody saying after the show that it was amazing how a show that is so overblown can be so under written. This is a fair statement. This production clocks in at almost three and a half hours, with enough action to comfortably fill ninety minutes.
Women Beware Women is a confused piece of work that centres around a social group of characters in Florence. Leantio, a poor banker’s clerk, has married Bianca, an heiress from Venice. Soon after the wedding, Leantio is called back to his business and leaves his wife in the care of his mother. Meanwhile, Isabella has been promised to Guardiano’s Ward by her father Fabritio. However, Isabella’s uncle, Hippolito, is in love with Isabella and confesses this to her sister Livia, who then conspires to bring them together. Confused? This is only the first two scenes…
What transpires is worthy of a Jerry Springer episode, with rape, betrayal, incest and murder. This culminates into a climax that leaves your head spinning and asking exactly what just happened. Unfortunately, this climax comes in 10 minutes at the end of 3 hours, and the questioning isn’t due to an unexpected twist or turn, but utter dumbfoundedness.
In saying that, Middleton does have a way with words. While his scenes tend to go on forever with very little progress, he certainly knows how to turn a phrase. His evocative dialogue is full of wit and substance, and his darker turns are close to immaculate. Bianca’s exchange with Guardiano after being effectively locked in a room for the Duke to do with her what he will is so full of malice, yet still maintains an air of propriety, and echoes some of the greats of this period. However, what Middleton seems to fail at is progressing the story, and creating scenes that make sense. The aforementioned climax of the play is nothing short of a pointless blood bath. It’s as if the author saw Hamlet or Romeo and Juliet, liked how many people died at the end, then emulated with not much reasoning behind it. Also, the predominant theme is that women are the cause of all evil. However, a deeper reading of the text (and the programme) suggests that it is the men who cause these actions by treating the women as possessions and pets. Somehow, both of these readings merely come across as misogynistic.
In terms of this production, The National Theatre has yet again assembled a fine cast and thrown all the production values they could at a less than perfect play. The entire cast did an admirable job with a sluggish play. However, there were some who stood out above others. In general, the three women at the centre of the play, Bianca (Lauren O’Neill), Livia (Harriet Walter) and Isabella (Vanessa Kirby), were incredibly strong. O’Neill’s darker moments during the first act brought a beautiful sense of malice to the character. Walter shone as the controlling matriarch who loses it all in the end. Out of the men, Hippolito (Raymond Coulthard), Ward (Harry Melling) and Laentio (Samuel Barnett), were the standout performers. Barnett made Laentio by far the most likable characters in the show. His wit and bumbling charm served the character perfectly, and made you feel for him, even when his actions aren’t always pure. Melling is a brilliant comic actor. Having only ever seen him as Dudley Dursley in the Harry Potter films, he is a revelation. He completely steals every scene he is in.
At just under three and a half hours, Women Beware Women isn’t an easy watch. However, if you have a penchant for Jacobean drama and want to see one of the lesser appreciated playwrights, then have a look at Women Beware Women.
Just remember, Middleton is no Shakespeare.
Women Beware Women is playing at the National Theatre until July 4.
