Theatre review: Edward II

The second winter mini-season at the Swanamaker takes the theme of kings who were deposed, opening with Christopher Marlowe’s take on the subject; later in the season we’ll have Shakespeare’s response to it, as well as a more modern take. But first Edward II, the 1592 play that Ian McKellen is praising on his current UK tour as the first English play with an openly gay protagonist. It’s something that productions in more prudish eras must have tried to downplay – I imagine the whole LOOK THEY JUST DON’T LIKE FLATTERERS, OK? thing would have been made a big deal of – but it must have been a stretch, because it’s hardly subtext. Nick Bagnall’s production certainly doesn’t leave much room for doubt as to why, as soon as Edward II (Tom Stuart) takes the throne, his lords and ministers immediately take so violently against him.

His first act as king is to recall from banishment Piers Gaveston (Beru Tessema) and confer honours and titles upon him. Gaveston immediately abuses his new position, and with the Church against him, Edward is forced to comply with the lords and exile his lover again.

Compressing events throughout the real Edward’s reign into a single conflict, Marlowe’s story sees the lords’ rebellion treat Gaveston as a pawn who’s passed back and forth, allowed into the country or not according to who’s got the upper hand at the moment. The only one who doesn’t ever get to have much say in the matter is the one who’s theoretically got absolute power, with the king at the mercy of his lords’ whims. With his attention focused on his love life and the internal challenges to his rule, Edward doesn’t notice the French king taking advantage and threatening the tenuous peace between the nations. Even as he seems to be gaining the upper hand, Edward is being backed into a corner.

Marlowe’s take on the story doesn’t really leave anyone looking too good; Edward himself is undoubtedly spoilt, capricious and more childish than the actual child who succeeds him. But as played by Stuart he does have obvious reserves of strength when he needs them, and none of these failings are really behind why people keep threatening to depose him – even if Gaveston were really the problem, the merest hint that he might get replaced in the king’s affections by Spencer Junior (Colin Ryan) sees them instantly transfer their objections to Spencer. Bagnall doesn’t leave much question that homophobia is what makes the attacks on Edward so relentless; the lords show open disgust when he kisses Gaveston or Spencer.

But it’s Mortimer (Jonathan Livingstone) who most personifies this; initially an attempt to get power away from Gaveston and claim it for himself, his crusade against the king becomes increasingly about his own personal dislike of Edward’s sexuality, even as his uncle (Annette Badland) makes the argument that many great men have had male lovers (a speech that surely must have been cut in those straight-washed past productions.) It’s a connection that naturally pushes him towards Queen Isabella (Katie West,) who for a long time maintains her love and loyalty for her husband until his rejection of her for a man finally makes her snap and turn violently against him. Edward II shows people being pushed into doing the things they’ve been falsely accused of: After being relentlessly accused by Edward of having an affair with Mortimer she finally decides to do just that; and it’s when the lords decide to turn against Spencer that Edward makes him his lover.

Bagnall’s production does embrace a sense of camp, some of it deliberately: Richard Bremmer’s Archbishop of Canterbury has a tendency to loom into scenes like he’s in a Hammer Horror, Edward and Gaveston sweep around the stage knocking things over with their cloaks, Edward’s relentless swooning over Gaveston’s name becomes a running joke, and Richard Cant is in the cast. But there’s the brutal side as well – Kevin McCurdy’s fights include a spectacular Gaveston/Mortimer swordfight. With the help of some unusual archaic instruments Bill Barclay’s music really builds up an eerie effect as the candles are very slowly put out. The famous murder scene is done pretty realistically but in virtual darkness (so although the warnings of frontal nudity on the doors and on the website are technically correct, there won’t be a scrolling alert. As a woman in the audience tutted to her husband on the way out, “I don’t call that full nudity, I couldn’t see anything!”)

This is a solid production of a play that seems to be becoming more commonly produced as people remember how strong it actually is, and as its themes can be more openly explored. The Swanamaker is a good fit for it as well, because between its intimacy and its atmospheric lighting it effectively charts the play’s progress from something slightly arch to something much darker, both literally and metaphorically.

Edward II by Christopher Marlowe is booking in repertory until the 20th of April at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse.

Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes including interval.

Photo credit: Marc Brenner.