Theatre review: Martin Guerre

For what must surely be Matthew Warchus' final new production at the Old Vic he revisits Alain Boublil (book and lyrics,) Claude-Michel Schönberg (music and lyrics) and Stephen Clark's (lyrics) Martin Guerre in what is described as a new version of the musical and, frankly, when has this ever been staged in anything other than a rewritten version? I saw the original production 30 years ago and I still didn't quite see the first version: By the time I went in 1996, a couple of months after it premiered, it had already briefly closed and reopened once for a major rewrite and relaunch, which was evidently a lot more popular than the one critics had first seen, but still wasn't successful enough not to get completely retooled every time someone revived it. This time around Annabel Mutale Reed (lyrics) & Paul Hodge (lyrics and additional material) get added to the increasingly hefty roster of writers, to help turn the unwieldy epic into a 100-minute one-acter.

In 16th-century rural France, young Martin Guerre (Dan Hand) is married off to Bertrande (Bethan Louise Honer) but, not happy with his marriage being essentially a land deal, refuses to consummate it.

After being bullied by the men of the village for failing to sleep with his new wife he runs away to the wars. Seven years later a man calling himself Martin (Shane O'Riordan) returns to Artigat, now ready to get back with Bertrande (Liv Andrusier.) His return coincides with the end of a drought so everyone in town sees this return, and the child the couple have together, as a blessing.

Everyone except Guillaume (Barney Wilkinson,) who always thought he had a right to Bertrande and her land, and when a stranger claims Martin actually died in the wars, the man who's living his life is put on trial as an imposter - a situation complicated when another Martin (Alex James-Hatton) turns up.

From what I've heard, playing the mystery of who is the real Martin was how the show originally ran, but by the time I saw it this had been changed so we knew from the start who the imposter was and why he did it. In addition to restoring the original structure, this iteration also completely removes the Catholic vs Protestant tension that was an inordinately heavy element of the original, the only remnant of that religious slant now being Adam Pearce's paternalistic but ultimately ineffectual Father Dominic.

Instead there's more of an emphasis on superstition and suspicion, with Bertrande being accused of witchcraft and blamed for the drought before her husband's return, and this all flows naturally into the paranoia of the final scenes. Songs have been moved around and in some cases completely repurposed ("The Imposters" comes a lot earlier and is now "The Monsters," while the big ballad "Here Comes The Morning" is gone completely. Hand's version of the title song is less bombastic and more vulnerable than the one you'll find on the original cast recording, but the catchiest tune in the show does get more regularly reprised.)

The stripped-back approach inevitably has pluses and minuses: The show doesn't feel as bloated and overlong and there's a great energy to it, and the final confrontation in which Colin Ryan's village idiot Benoit plays a major part, feels a lot clearer than I remember it (in fact I suspect it's completely rewritten from the ending I saw, which I seem to recall featured a full-scale riot.) The speed does mean some of the songs - and the show has some bangers - feel a bit rushed through. But there's a hell of a lot of strong belting vocals in this cast, in a slick production that belies the fact that the entire month-long run is officially classed as a semi-staged preview. Presumably this means a further life is planned for it; I think the one thing we can guarantee is that if Warchus's production does resurface, it'll have been rewritten again.

Martin Guerre by Alain Boublil, Claude-Michel Schönberg, Stephen Clark, Annabel Mutale Reed & Paul Hodge is booking until the 31st of October at the Old Vic.

Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes straight through.

Photo credit: Helen Maybanks.