Review: THE INN AT LYDDA, Shakespeare's Globe, Sam Wanamaker Playhouse, 7 September 2016

What if Jesus of Nazareth had met the Roman Emperor Tiberius? Unlikely, but, especially when it comes to those two, stranger things have happened...

That's the jumping-off point for John Wolfson's awkward but entertaining The Inn at Lydda, which is er... resurrected in the beautiful Sam Wanamaker Playhouse some 16 years after it was presented as a BBC Radio 4 play. The timing may be auspicious.

Tiberius is old and, after purges aplenty, fears death and what waits for him behind that curtain. So he travels from his villa in Capri (from where he directs his assassins in the way Stalin would do, 1900 years later from his dacha in Russia), seeking out a renowned healer in Judea.

Pontius Pilate washed his hands of him on the very day the Emperor sets out, but, as we know, Jesus still had earthly business to concluded after his crucifixion and, with bloodstains at his belly and hands bandaged, the Nazarene rebel and the Roman autocrat break bread at an inn, half a day's march outside Jerusalem.

Okay - if you've swallowed that bit of tricksiness, you'll have no problem with The Three Kings travelling west again, pitching up to renew acquaintance with the man they last met as a baby (though they fail to ask about what happened to the gold, a question I have long pondered). There's a lurking John too, sucking on hallucinogenic roots en route to writing his Revelations, an over-confident East End wideboy of Greek doctor, and a rather token "working girl" (who is, ironically, given little of any kind of work to do).

Not everyone will enjoy the humour that weaves in and out of the play - Joseph Marcell's wisecracking Wise Man, Caspar, getting the best lines, with David Cardy's "Gor blimey Guv'nor" doctor, Thrysullus, not far behind. But I liked the gags - even the ones as expected as Jesus being able to whistle up more wine at the lift of an eyebrow.

In the second half the laughs are cranked up even further when a show-stealing Philip Cumbus prances in as Caligula, opting not to emulate John Hurt's unforgettable turn from I, Claudius but to channel the fey knowingness and barely suppressed cruelty of John Sessions in TV's Whose Line Is It Anyway. It is not something I thought I would ever say, but I needed more Caligula!

Balancing Caligula's pansexuality and unpredictable thirst for the throne, the play concludes with a long rumination on power, as Tiberius's ruthlessness butts up against Jesus's "All You Need Is Love" trust in the people. There's a bit too much speechifying on what will come to pass in a thousand years time, but Stephen Boxer's impassioned defence of political murder as the only means to maintain the Empire is impressively delivered and given the seriousness it deserves.

Samuel Collings is just a little smug as Jesus (perhaps forgivably so seeing as he has just conquered death), and his point about the brutality of an empire being the result of the venality of those who lead it may be overplayed, but the exchange, if not quite electrifying, is compelling.

With some fine music by Nick Powell complementing a gorgeous set designed by Anthony Lambie, dozens of candles create the ambience of Mediterranean nights in this most visually stimulating of London theatres. There's even some pitta and humus nibbles for selected members of the audience, compliments of the Innkeeper.

Flawed though it may be, the play's revival is timely, as the 21st century's equivalent of Rome faces up to the possibility of an old man, high on demagoguery, leading it towards... well, who knows where. This Emperor Tiberius may be more Saddam Hussein than Donald Trump, but the parallels are there for all to see.

Photo Mark Brenner

The Inn at Lydda continues at Shakespeare's Globe, Sam Wanamaker Playhouse until 17 September.

To post a comment, you must register and login.