At last we are in for a piece of shining, highly theatrical theater! Mary Stuart has arrived, its two glowing stars, Janet McTeer and Harriet Walter, direct from London's noted Donmar Warehouse and London's West End, and joined here by 11 supporting actors.
Originally written by Friedrich Schiller, this new version by Peter Oswald is fluid and easy, not at all smacking of the stilted "classic" tone. One is immediately swept up by the vivid rivalry between two major historical figures, Mary, Queen of Scots, cousin of Elizabeth I, Queen of England.
At play's beginning, set in 1587, Mary, a Catholic, has been under house arrest in England for the past 19 years. Although England has been Protestant for nearly 30 years, the Protestant Elizabeth fears Mary, for Elizabeth knows that Mary has a strong claim to England's throne and that there are Catholic plots afoot to wrest the crown from Elizabeth. Furthermore, although Mary appears to be safely ensconced in Fotheringhay Castle, perhaps she is not as vulnerable as she appears. Known to be resourceful, she once had her former husband murdered, and then married his murderer.
Political power games rule the day. Elizabeth is surrounded by advisors, some of whom advise immediate execution of Mary, others who are more conservative in their approach. The markedly aggressive Lord Burleigh (Nicholas Woodeson) insists that Mary is an imminent threat, while the Earl of Shrewsbury (Brian Murray) takes a more passive stance. He feels that Mary may prove more dangerous dead than alive, for she may then become a martyr to the Catholic cause. The attractive and seductive Earl of Leicester (John Benjamin Hickey) plays both ends against the middle. At first joining a plot to assassinate Elizabeth, he smoothly switches allegiance, just narrowly escaping discovery. Queen Elizabeth listens to all opinions carefully and calmly, appearing to be unmoved by either camp.
But Mary Stuart is first and foremost a play about the two Queens, major players on the world stage in their time. And they are portrayed by actresses who are more than up to the task. Janet McTeer's Mary is passionate and outspoken. Harriet Walter's Elizabeth is cold and steely and shrewd, only once losing her composure.
That once is in the famous encounter scene, a scene between the two women that did not actually take place in history but is a clever theatrical invention by playwright Schiller. Mary has long pleaded for a meeting. For a long time it is refused, then one of the advisors successfully arranges it. When the two finally speak, sparks are struck. Mary pleads for her life, repeatedly referring to Elizabeth as "Sister." When the encounter goes sour, Elizabeth turns cold and flees, dropping her power mask for the first and only time.
Still, she hesitates to sign Mary's death warrant. How the order eventually comes about is a remarkable show of indecision and hypocrisy, and indicates how the powerful may abdicate responsibility and yet remain untouched. This connects powerfully with our own times. Indeed, one of the appeals of this play is its timelessness and universality.
The intense McTeer and Walter hold stage with great authority, aided by director Phyllida Lloyd's daring design concept, to have the women wear elegant period gowns while the men are attired in contemporary dark business suits. An interview piece noted that that choice came out of limited budget at the Donmar. Whatever the reason, it works well. The women stand out, they are the queen bees, the stars, in every way.
Director Lloyd, arguably best known for her direction of the musical Mamma Mia!, is noted in London for her numerous classical and contemporary productions. In fact, I saw her impressive Hysteria in London's Royal Court Theatre some years ago.
Although the entire company works as a tightly knit ensemble, those particularly effective, I think, are Maria Tucci, as Mary's nurse, Chandler Williams as Mortimer, and the aforementioned Nicholas Woodeson and Brian Murray.
Set and costume design by Anthony Ward create an appropriate unity for the production. The Queens' costumes, though few, are luxurious, and are particularly vivid set against the stark, almost black brick walls and spare furniture, which convey a tragic tone, aided by the intense, shadowy lighting of Hugh Vanstone.
Here is a powerful production, to be cherished long after one has left the theater.
