White Bear Theatre as part of The White Bear Lost Classics Programme presents
Lighting Designer: Nigel Lewis
White Bear Theatre
The phrase a “wild goose chase” was coined by Shakespeare in Romeo and Juliet (1592). It derives from the 16th century practice of cross country horse racing, where riders would mimic the formation of flying geese. Shakespeare uses the term figuratively to describe Romeo's wits as unpredictable, as in running “the wild goose chase” after Juliet. John Fletcher (1579 – 1625) was a popular playwright during the Jacobean period and collaborated with Shakespeare, even writing a sequel to The Taming of the Shrew called The Tamer Tamed (1611). He succeeded Shakespeare as chief playwright of the King's Men before his untimely death from the plague.
Fletcher's The Wild Goose Chase almost suffered the unfortunate fate of being lost forever when it was lent to a “Person of Quality” (mentioned in the introduction to the 1647 folio), but it was rediscovered and returned to its rightful place in the 1652 edition. Since the 17th century however, the play has not been revived, until now, through the admirable efforts of the ESPlayers and the White Bear's Lost Classics Programme.
Young Oriana (Ami Sayers) is in love with the wild-goose, Mirabel (Nik Drake), a world-weary Lothario who has recently returned from Italy. Mirabel however has no intention of settling down and following his father's (Anthony Cable) wishes. When he is offered a choice of two sisters, Rosalura (Kerry Wotton) or Lillia (Joanna Nuttall) he arrogantly declines and leaves his two drinking companions Pinac (Danny Wainwright) and Belleur (Edward Cartwright) foaming at the mouths for a chance to get their end away. Oriana however will not be so easily dismissed and enlists the help of her brother, De Gard (Andrew Thompson) and Lugier (Jackie Skarvellis) a tutor to the sisters, to snare Mirabel, to make an honest woman out of her. So ensues an entertainingly modern comedy about the manipulative nature of the opposite sex.
What is so impressive about Fletcher's play is the strikingly modern presentation of the sisters, Rosalura and Lillia Bianca. It is a quality Brown is keen to emphasise and he directs Wotton and Nuttall in such a way as to draw out their character's independent- minded natures, and thoroughly modern way of seeing themselves. Neither Wotton's Rosalura nor Nuttall's Lillia are particularly taken by the pasty faced, prancing of Cartwright's tweed suited, Belleur or the saucy, wide boy confidence of Wainwright's dishevelled, Pinac, yet they understand the urgency of procuring themselves a husband. They are originally introduced, standing on plinths, objectified for Mirabel, but he is taken aback when he discovers just how outspoken and ferocious each woman is. These women exploit the fact that they are seen as objects, immensely aware of how they are supposed to behave, yet they subvert the men's assumptions by being much more forward and ruthless than the submissive Oriana, using their feminine wiles to achieve their goals. The sisters know that the “best game is played still by the best gamesters” and have no qualms calling each other “wench”. They wear tight fitting clothes to attract the men's attention, but when Mirabel attempts to man-handle Rosalura on the basis that she is dressed saucily, he excuses himself by saying she deserves to be treated that way. Fletcher anticipates the current modern debate about women dressing provocatively - a short skirt or a revealing top is not an invitation to rape, merely self-expression combined with an appetite to be desired.
On the flip side of this is Ami Sayers' Oriana. Sayers spends most of the play looking thoroughly miserable, as she sits in her beige dress, bottom lip trembling in the throws of unrequited love. The role itself does not offer much diversity but Sayers has an expressive face, capable of conjuring a deep sense of sadness through her baleful eyes. In contrast is Nic Drake as Mirabel, in red trousers and blue shirt, he exudes a supreme sense of confidence. His unsentimental, outspoken characterization as the Lothario is convincing and enjoyable to watch, especially when he displays his crafty nature. But there is the concern that Drake remains a little too serious, resulting in a monotone effect for a play of such length. Anthony Cable as his father, La- Castre in a corduroy jacket, displays gravitas with a strong voice and robust body language. Andrew Thompson as Oriana's brother De Gard is suitably prim and proper in preppy attire, assisting his sister aided by Jackie Skarvellis's Lugier, in trilby and violet blouse, who seems more like an Eastern European mystic than a tutor to the sisters.
Brown's cunning modernisations, such as having Lillia use her mobile phone to listen to Britney Spears, or flip through a copy of OK when discussing the gossip about the aristocracy, are novel features which work surprisingly well in the context of a 17th century play. The asides also help to draw in the audience and add a conspiratorial element to the character's designs, but none are so surprising as the inclusion of an unexpected audience member in cahoots with the cast who replies to Belleur. The production elements are minimal, with a modern soundtrack that works well in the black box theatre, however the serious lack of ventilation contributes a soporific effect.
Brown has resurrected The Wild Goose Chase from a menagerie of forgotten English plays and made it relevant to a modern audience. It is not hard to understand why this play was so popular during Fletcher's time. Samuel Pepys “longed to see it, being a famous play”, for its intrigue and humour comes out of an unusually balanced opposition of gender. Neither man nor woman is portrayed as pure - even Oriana resorts to ploys to trap Mirabel. The Wild Goose Chase shows that materialism and sexual conquest were as important four hundred years ago as they are now proving what's good for the goose is good for the gander.
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