She Stoops To Conquer, The Lowry, Manchester 9th-13th December 2014
The Northern Broadsides production of She Stoops To Conquer is, quite frankly, adorable. It’s a little bit Blackadder the Third crossed with Two Pints of Lager, largely camp and enormously entertaining. The ‘northernisation’ that Northern Broadsides do so well, moving the setting from the West Country to Up North works perfectly, even if it means that Gilly Tompkins as Mrs Hardcastle is definitely channelling Helen Atkinson Wood’s Mrs Miggins from Blackadder 3. Not that this is in any way to the detriment of her performance, which is wonderfully over the top in every way, from her accent to her clothes to her wonderful, wild and woolly massive red wig.
The cast are excellent all around, even down to the supporting cast who take on several roles each with ease, and Alan McMahon’s perfectly nuanced turn as Pimple, the maid, is especially worthy of note. The supporting cast (and some of the main cast) also provide musical accompaniment and interludes to several scenes, and this is an inspired addition to the play. The singing and instrument playing are done with style and skill, from the song and dance number at the Three Pigeons pub, to the spontaneous-feeling excerpt from the Papageno-Papagena duet from Mozart’s The Magic Flute which perfectly epitomises the joy of two lovers unexpectedly encountering each other and the playfulness of their relationship.
The curtain opens on a beautifully dressed stage, featuring wood panelled pillars, plenty of random taxidermy and a lots of Gainsborough-influenced backdrops and screens. The Lowry utilises its smaller stages well, with cunning set dressing and mesh backdrops that can be backlit or have images projected on them as required. This stage set manages to be three very different locations with little more than moving a couple of chairs around, and is a credit to the set dressers and production designer, Jessica Worrall.
The direction from Conrad Nelson, likewise, is excellent. For a period piece with period language and several characters, everything is not only easy to follow but a delight to watch, and the use of all the actors’ physicality is very well managed: special notice must go to Oliver Gomm for a remarkable turn as Young Marlow in what is a role of two very distinct extremes of behaviour.
The plot of She Stoops has often been described as over-complex and productions have often tended towards overblown farce; and whilst camp, broad and with acting pushed to the brink of scenery-chewing, this production manages to avoid those flaws – on the whole. The sheer likability of the cast go a long way towards this, and perhaps it’s their affection for the material or enjoyment in what must surely be roles that are a pleasure to play that come through. Whatever it is, it is very hard to dislike any aspect of this production, even when it does tend towards over the top. It is, after all, what the story and characters demand.
The eponymous ‘She’ of the title is Kate Hardcastle, (nicely played by Hannah Edwards) who has just found out that her country squire father has arranged for her to meet her potential husband, the son of his very good (and wealthy) old friend, Mr Marlow. Her only worry is that this young man, whilst fine in every other respect, is described as quiet and reserved and all together unassuming. Pleasingly, in all other ways, she’s quite happy for her father to sort all of this out for her, and is a good and loving daughter to both of her parents, for all their flaws.
She shares her doubts about her future spouse’s personality with her best friend Constance – an excellent Lauryn Redding – who, would you believe it, turns out to be enamoured of Young Marlow’s best friend George! This would all be a nice, simple romantic comedy from this point on, were it not for the machinations of Kate’s half-brother, Tony Lumpkin – her mother’s spoiled and pampered son from her first marriage. Dressed in gold and leopard print, Jon Trenchard gives us the campest thing this side of Christmas, leaving one wondering what his mother was ever thinking trying to pair him up with Constance. Tony and Constance are certainly having none of it, but their attempts to convince his mother that they are lovebirds leads to a lovely bit of physical comedy, as they alternately bill and coo, and then pinch and poke and fight as soon as her attention is off them.
Tony is also the Machiavelli of this tale, as it is his sheer devilment that leads to the defining plot twist of the story. When he encounters by chance Young Marlow and George lost at the local pub, looking for his own house to win his sister’s hand, he convinces them that his home is actually a local inn. A bit of heavy handed foreshadowing in the early exposition has let us know that people are always mistaking the hall for an inn, and also, and most importantly – Young Marlow cannot speak to upper class women. His reserve and faltering speech are only there when he encounters the gentry. Should he meet, for instance, a common bar maid or even her inn-owning father, then he is as loud and cocky a young man as might turn out to be hugely embarrassing at a later point when All Is Revealed.
There is a lot less foolish misunderstanding and lack of communication that drives this story than you might imagine, however – and certainly less than in most modern romantic comedies. Almost everyone apart from Young Marlow and Mr Hardcastle are in on the plot very quickly, and making the most of using this to ‘help’ Marlow court Kate. Even Kate tires of the deception when she realises that Marlow has genuine affection for her, even though he believes her to be beneath his station enough to offend his father. That fact that he likes her even with her put on ‘lower-class’ (i.e. very scouse indeed) accent is a testament to his affection for her!
Oliver Gomm’s acting verges close to the annoying when he is in bashful, stuttering mode. However, we have to believe that he has no idea what Kate looks like after their first meeting as he is physically incapable of looking her in the face, and he obviously relishes the opportunity to switch from swaggering to shivering, and who can blame him? His lightning change from bombast to sheer, shrivelled horror when he finds out who he has been speaking to and where he is located is a joy, and got a deservedly big response from the audience.
There are lots of laughs to be had, and there were many gained by this sweet and well managed production. Northern Broadsides should be rightfully proud of their interpretation of Oliver Goldsmith’s classic story.
Sarah Jane Vesperine