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Edward II, at least as presented by Red Bull Theater (and probably just in general), is one of those plays about extremely unlikable people you can't help but feel really bad for, mainly because they are so willful and gleeful in their naivete and petulance. It's the sort of bad behavior one often wishes to indulge in and doesn't, and the reason why isn't because we're good people or adults, but because, as the play notes -- that sort of shit tends not to work out very well in the end.
Regardless of all the modernizations in this production (e.g., guns mostly, over swords -- there's one and it's poorly wielded, but I couldn't figure out if that was a comment on Edward or people just not caring about how one handles a small sword, ceremonial or no), it's hard to get past how astounding the play was if not for its time, for our assessment of its time, and it has a lot to say (both with and without directorial intent) about this moment we find ourselves in and the matter of "gay marriage." Certianly it underscores how essential this idea of sexual identity is to the modern audience while also making the nature of the bother our modern world makes over it seem even weirder than it already is.
Bad things happen to incompetent people in this play not because of what they do, so much as how they do it. The problem isn't that Edward is fucking a man, it's that he's in love with him to the point of messing with state-craft (it seems clear he could be in love with the fellow or fucking him and no one would have given much of a damn, it's the both that makes everyone freak out and everything collapse -- although one gets the sense that Edward would have been a shitty king even if all this drama hadn't been going on); the problem isn't that the queen would like her husband to pay attention to her, but rather that she's foolish enough to be in love with him, when this is a political alliance; and poor stupid Spencer -- he's so minor really, but that's why his story may be the most interesting; he's ordinary, he's like us, and oh loyalty and jealousy combined is a sure way to get yourself completely fucked over every time.
Both the costumes and the set deserve special mention. The costumes are perhaps most evocative of the Nazi-esque world conjured in the Ian McKellan Richard III film, but they are rougher, as if from an earlier age and having seen far more wear. I have a quibble or two with the visual narrative given the queen (I would have reordered a couple of pieces and changed the tailoring of one), and remain fascinated by the first costume in which we see Edward -- the silhouette (and that's how we first see it) is incredibly Japanese; that coupled with the reveal on a shiny, black square platform in the center of the stage immediately brought to mind their theatre, and while it's an idea the play never really delivers on, it stays with you afterwards -- one of the reminders of how hard we see Edward struggling to be Edward in the midst of everyone wanting him to be a king, or at least not a man.
The set is really really smart -- brutal, stark, and perfectly presentational -- each transgression or foolishness again served up on that square plate in the center of the stage, that also, eventually becomes the sewer in which Edward is imprisoned as he awaits his death; the line from any number of bedroom scenes (some not involving Edward) to Edward's death is starkly clear.
The performances were great, of course, in a way that made me go "and this is why I don't do theatre" because I cannot imagine (or can imagine too well) putting myself through that night after night in some of those roles. Seeing the kid from Queer as Folk as Spencer was a little odd, because QaF and his story line in it remains so oddly vivid to me, but he was really quite good. Edward, Gaveston and Mortimer were all pitch perfect, and Mortimer was exhausting in his fury. I also must note an odd affection for the 11-year-old boy that played the young prince. He wasn't much more than passable, but he looked so right in the role he broke my heart, but I perhaps always wish to see something of myself in delicate and wrathful children. Certainly, in a play like this, it's more comfortable than seeing yourself in anyone else.
And yes, for the many many people that insisted I see this (that would be![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ragingjess, ellen_kushner and Susan over at http://www.rixosous.com/ (http://www.rixosous.com/2008/01/edward-ii-red-b.html), it was sexy as hell.
Regardless of all the modernizations in this production (e.g., guns mostly, over swords -- there's one and it's poorly wielded, but I couldn't figure out if that was a comment on Edward or people just not caring about how one handles a small sword, ceremonial or no), it's hard to get past how astounding the play was if not for its time, for our assessment of its time, and it has a lot to say (both with and without directorial intent) about this moment we find ourselves in and the matter of "gay marriage." Certianly it underscores how essential this idea of sexual identity is to the modern audience while also making the nature of the bother our modern world makes over it seem even weirder than it already is.
Bad things happen to incompetent people in this play not because of what they do, so much as how they do it. The problem isn't that Edward is fucking a man, it's that he's in love with him to the point of messing with state-craft (it seems clear he could be in love with the fellow or fucking him and no one would have given much of a damn, it's the both that makes everyone freak out and everything collapse -- although one gets the sense that Edward would have been a shitty king even if all this drama hadn't been going on); the problem isn't that the queen would like her husband to pay attention to her, but rather that she's foolish enough to be in love with him, when this is a political alliance; and poor stupid Spencer -- he's so minor really, but that's why his story may be the most interesting; he's ordinary, he's like us, and oh loyalty and jealousy combined is a sure way to get yourself completely fucked over every time.
Both the costumes and the set deserve special mention. The costumes are perhaps most evocative of the Nazi-esque world conjured in the Ian McKellan Richard III film, but they are rougher, as if from an earlier age and having seen far more wear. I have a quibble or two with the visual narrative given the queen (I would have reordered a couple of pieces and changed the tailoring of one), and remain fascinated by the first costume in which we see Edward -- the silhouette (and that's how we first see it) is incredibly Japanese; that coupled with the reveal on a shiny, black square platform in the center of the stage immediately brought to mind their theatre, and while it's an idea the play never really delivers on, it stays with you afterwards -- one of the reminders of how hard we see Edward struggling to be Edward in the midst of everyone wanting him to be a king, or at least not a man.
The set is really really smart -- brutal, stark, and perfectly presentational -- each transgression or foolishness again served up on that square plate in the center of the stage, that also, eventually becomes the sewer in which Edward is imprisoned as he awaits his death; the line from any number of bedroom scenes (some not involving Edward) to Edward's death is starkly clear.
The performances were great, of course, in a way that made me go "and this is why I don't do theatre" because I cannot imagine (or can imagine too well) putting myself through that night after night in some of those roles. Seeing the kid from Queer as Folk as Spencer was a little odd, because QaF and his story line in it remains so oddly vivid to me, but he was really quite good. Edward, Gaveston and Mortimer were all pitch perfect, and Mortimer was exhausting in his fury. I also must note an odd affection for the 11-year-old boy that played the young prince. He wasn't much more than passable, but he looked so right in the role he broke my heart, but I perhaps always wish to see something of myself in delicate and wrathful children. Certainly, in a play like this, it's more comfortable than seeing yourself in anyone else.
And yes, for the many many people that insisted I see this (that would be
ragingjess, ellen_kushner and Susan over at http://www.rixosous.com/ (http://www.rixosous.com/2008/01/edward-ii-red-b.html), it was sexy as hell.
