The Duchess [of Malfi] has been partially updated by Zinnie Harris in a puzzling modern-dress production. The set by Tom Piper resembles a concrete bunker in an abandoned apartment block and Ben Ormerod’s lighting throws weird shadows across the playing area, which seems to consist mostly of discarded plywood sheets. It feels like a scout-hut production on a micro-budget.
The second act involves gory scenes of homicidal violence staged with amusingly inept special effects
Jodie Whittaker stars as the lustful Duchess whose destiny lies in the hands of her elder brother, the Cardinal, played by the entertaining Paul Ready. Whittaker’s role is clumsily arranged within the play and she spends a lot of time off-stage. And her character lacks emotional coherence. In scene one, she secretly marries her steward, Antonio, even though she enjoys bullying and humiliating him in public. Later she professes her undying love for him. Which is it?
Antonio (Joel Fry) seems an odd sort of heart-throb. He’s a soppy, penniless dimwit who carps and sulks about his wife’s wavering affections. ‘I just want her to respect me the way I respect her,’ he mopes. Do men talk like that? Maybe they did in 1613, when the play premièred. Other mysteries emerge. The Duchess speaks in a crisp Home Counties accent but her twin brother, Ferdinand (Rory Fleck Byrne), uses a rich Irish brogue. How did they grow up in different countries at the same time?
The second act is shorter and more enjoyable than the first and it involves gory scenes of homicidal violence staged with amusingly inept special effects. Boys of 12 would love it. And yet, the action is very hard to follow because some of the murders are botched and the characters appear to return to life.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in