Theatre review: Losing Venice

Will the Orange Tree's 2018-19 season have an overarching theme? I only ask because they'll shortly be staging some Martin Crimp, and following Losing Venice that could end up signaling a theme of complete impenetrability. Jo Clifford's 1985 play has been revived by Paul Miller with the strong implication that it's gained a new Brexit-related significance, dealing as it does with a fading Empire that's not quite grasped the fact that it no longer holds the sway it once did, and so engages in an arrogant international display of regaining control that's doomed to failure. In practice this proves a bit of a stretch of what the play's actually about, its blustering imperialism more about the macho posturing of a couple of impotent men than anything wider.

In the late years of the Spanish Golden Age the Duke (Tim Delap) has just got married, but neither he nor his new Duchess (Florence Roberts) are thrilled at the prospect of what they have to do next to ensure the required heir turns up.

Their servants Pablo (Remus Brooks) and Maria (Eleanor Fanyinka) have the opposite problem, unable to find the time and place to have sex. They join forces with the Duchess to get rid of the Duke, whose love of war means a hopeless expedition will be something he'll jump at, and will hopefully finish him off, and the gout-ridden King (David Verrey) duly packs him off to single-handedly claim Venice for Spain. The plan backfires when he takes Pablo with him though.

The story is largely told through the boorish Duke's (Delap gives him a touch of the Prince Philip) exchanges with his in-house poet Quevedo (Christopher Logan,) hired to provide an eloquence and subtlety his master doesn't have, and doomed to keep writing poems nobody will ever read, on whatever subject the Duke feels he should have an opinion on at the time. It's a fun enough setup, and the cast live up to the punky feel Jess Curtis has given their costumes, ripped jeans and trainers mixing with codpieces and swords.

Even if the dialogue turns out not to be as funny as it would like to be, the cast help make the first act quite fun, but as the characters end up all at sea in the second, so does the production: After an interlude with pirates the characters finally arrive in Venice only to be accosted by various priests and mystics spouting vague philosophy, and eventually the Duke is shown how little power ultimately means, as he listens in on the Doge and his wife, whose bedroom is so huge - to reflect their power - that they can't find the bed.

Miller's production might have salvaged the first act but it gets stuck in this one. As satire, Losing Venice has lost its bite and what's left is vague, often bordering on the pretentious and ultimately just not that interesting.

Losing Venice by Jo Clifford is booking until the 20th of October at the Orange Tree Theatre.

Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes including interval.

Photo credit: Helen Maybanks.