Review: THE WINTER'S TALE, Garrick Theatre, November 7 2015

I had not seen The Winter's Tale before. And yet it seemed that I had, since flashes of other, more often performed, Shakespeare plays kept popping into my mind as characters and plot developed - that's a bit like Hamlet, there's something of Ophelia in that reaction, that's what Iago did and so on. Such sparks help as the tale, even for Shakespeare, requires a few leaps of faith.

Sir Kenneth Branagh plays Leontes, the King of Sicily (well, it is his company, so he gets first dibs) who descends into a jealous madness over his Queen Hermione's (Miranda Raison, coquettish and touchy-feely) supposed infidelity with his childhood friend, Polixenes, the King of Bohemia (Hadley Fraser, blokeish and an unlikely seducer). Suddenly, this much loved king, husband and friend is ignoring the advice of his court (and even the Oracle at Delphi) and importuning his closest advisor Camillo (John Shrapnel, bemused but decent) to poison his imagined cuckolder. But it's never easy to speak truth to power and only the grand old matriarch of the court, Paulina, stands up to the mad king and tells it how it is.

In this production, that task falls to Dame Judi Dench, whose mere presence would carry an almost irresistible authority were she reading out a shopping list, never mind clarifying the appalling consequences of the King's irrational rage. And, though of course she's very good and a prime reason why the run is largely sold out, I'm sure I'm not alone in being unable to turn off a voice in my head that insisted on saying, "Look - it's THE Dame Judi!" whenever she tried to inject some reason into the King's boneheadedness.

After the interval, there's a complete change in tone, matching the change that has come over Leontes, now wallowing in remorse. Gone are the heavy fabrics and rich colours of Sicily Court (Christopher Oram's design a bit too Dickensian biscuit tin for my liking) and we're 16 years on and in the meadows of Bohemia with Leontes's and Hermione's abandoned baby daughter Perdita (Jessie Buckley looking very Lizzie Siddal). She's grown up and skipping through the fields, happy in her shepherd family's rural idyll, and with an eye on hunky Florizel (a Chippendalesque Tom Bateman). He is, in something of an unlikely twist, Polixenes's son and heir to the throne of Bohemia, but a bit of a rebel who's going to follow his heart all the way to the shepherd girl, never suspecting that she is the daughter of the King of Sicily. And that's not the most unlikely thing that happens in the second half!

There's symbolism aplenty and, no doubt, contemporary audiences would have caught disguised references to the court of King Henry VIII and his daughter the future Queen Elizabeth I, but I had real trouble believing that real human beings, even an autocrat overtaken by the green-eyed monster, would really behave like this. So the plot gets in the way of some fine work from the superstars of course, but there are good turns from John Dagleish as dodgy tinker Autolycus and Jimmy Yuill as Perdita's de facto father, his sheep shearing income supplemented by the gold left with the abandoned babe.

Like Measure for Measure, The Winter's Tale is sometimes described as a problem play - and I can see why. I "got" M for M much more on seeing it a second time and that might be the case with TWT - that said, it's hard enough to get one seat for this production, never mind two! Maybe it shouldn't be quite so hard to enjoy first time round.

The Winter's Tale continues at the Garrick Theatre until 16 January.

Photo Johan Persson.

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