Review: ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore at the Liverpool Everyman

Shocking seems to be the adjective of choice for John Ford’s 1633 tale of sibling incest, jealousy, and murder, “‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore”, and it’s one the producers themselves choose, describing the play as “…one of the most shocking and powerful theatre stories of all time.“

I’m not sure that shocking still holds, not anymore. It’s interesting to observe that the play was originally written nearly 400 years ago, but the subject matter no longer has the visceral power to shock it might once have had.

What Ford delivers, however, is a fix to the problems of the classic plot that Shakespeare delivered as Romeo and Juliet. This is Romeo and Juliet with teeth, the protagonists rendered as flawed adults, not simpering children.

It is, then, a play which has the power to affect – using its central theme of taboo-transgression as an emotional emphasiser for a story which is ultimately about desire, envy, and weakness.

When I saw director Chris Meade’s production at the Liverpool Everyman last Friday, it was the first time I’ve seen the play on stage, having read the text and seen some of the film adaptations. I don’t think I could have asked for a better first experience.

The production design takes a gently dated, modern look, leaving the action almost anywhere during the 20th Century. The text is the original, edited to streamline Ford’s convoluted story. Several characters disappear entirely, but the effect is quicken the pace, and simplify the plot – both welcome changes. Much of the broad humour – notably Putana’s comments about the ability of various suitors to “stand up” – may be largely lost on a modern audience, but much still works (the Cardinal’s closing lines about confiscating goods according to the canons of the Church got a good laugh!).

The set design itself is wonderfully effective – a multi-levelled installation, with an enclosed pit installed in the centre of the Everyman’s thrust stage, a more conventional performance area behind, and a raised platform atop the stage wall behind this. The “pit”, which serves finally as an arena for Giovanni’s attack on Soranzo, begins as Annabella’s bedroom, and the emotional significance of the various levels is well deployed. The stage wall, meanwhile, provides alcoves which can be opened to denote various locations. Most effective is the candle lit shrine to Giovanni and Annabella’s mother, which gives the deceased matriarch a visible presence on the stage, looking down upon her children.

If the stage design is effective, the music and sound design are exquisite. This is not incidental music; it is a soundtrack worthy of cinema. Alongside the composer, Heather Fenoughty, special mention must be made of Emily Pithon, who plays Hippolita. One of the production’s most haunting sequences is Hippolita signing at Annabella and Soranzo’s wedding, descending from the back of the audience to the thrust stage like a literal ghost at the feast.

Other performances stand out, notably Ken Bradshaw, who as Vasquez delivers a finely nuanced portrait of a driven, but ultimately loyal man playing his advantages; in the context of the character, (a Spaniard amongst Italians) the decision to play Vasquez with the company’s only Irish accent is inspired. Kevin Harvey gives a similarly strong performance as Giovanni’s conflicted tutor, Friar Bonaventura.

If there is a weakness in this production, it is Hugh Skinner as Giovanni, who frequently seemed to be doing Matt Smith doing the Doctor: a gangly, manically energetic figure all but bouncing around the stage. It was a performance which might, on its own terms, be impressive, but which did not fit with those around it. The final descent of the character did not seem a natural progression, and I couldn’t help but feel that a quieter, less physical, but equally intense approach would have been better.

The play’s emotional core is provided by Matti Houghton, as Annabella, and it is her performance, more than any other, that carries the production. If her reading of the part had been misjudged, the play as a whole would not work. It is not, and so it does. (In passing, it’s that change in the status of this central female character that really captures the change between the Jacobean theatre and the modern day.)

After the fact, I discovered that the Guardian’s Lyn Gardner was also in last Friday’s audience. I’ll be interested to see what she made of it – previous reviews have been glowing. UPDATED 201009281300: You can now read Gardner’s review here

I can’t give a better recommendation than to say that I would like to see this again – and buy the soundtrack.