Review by Eric Page
The ENO’s revival of The Handmaid’s Tale, depicting the story of one ‘handmaiden’ Offred in this totalitarian, theonomic, and neo-Puritanical regime, is taken from Margaret Atwood’s dystopian novel, veers away from too much direct graphic brutality but is a scary view of what might be, and is unremittingly beautiful in its stark no nonsense harshness.
The orchestra, with Joana Carneiro at the helm, was astonishing, bringing a textural substance to the music which transfixed me, I was often drawn out of the unremitting misery on the stage by the beautiful hypnotic precision of this music, instruments wrapping around each other in mathematical perfections which transcended the pit.
The acoustic playfulness of the music from composer Poul Ruders, and its meta references to technological sound production, gospel, jazz, choral chanting and sinister jingoism, are mixed into complex atonal displays of bravado, was gripping and carried the misery aloft its structured wings, allowing the narrative to be explored with a foundation of musical profuseness accented with delicious multifaceted percussion and underscored by threatening brass.
The simple sets from Annemarie Woods suggest repurposed stadiums and vast Evangelical churches. They are an exploration of lighting and curtain pleats – never has so much pleated drapery done so much for so little. But the saft palate of non offensive curtains add a sinister edge of institutional clinical performance to the vast stages, offering no privacy in this panoptic dystopia and allows full focus on the characters and their hideous situations. Paule Constable’s precise lighting pinpoints the action in forensic clarity.
Kate Lindsey returns in this revival to the role of Offred – her mezzo-soprano full of clarity, pure diction and instinctual texture. She was amazing. Avery Amereau‘s performance of the conflicted, complex Serena Joy – trapped by bareness and circumstance – was subtle and tragic – a supressed foil to the rolling majesty and entitlement of James Creswell‘s Commande. Rachel Nicholls‘ Aunt Lydia spoils for a fight, her nasty bullying savagery matched by her soaring, cutting voice. Nadine Benjamin’s Moira was eye-arresting – keeping herself the anchor of normality, offering radical hope through her boundless love.
The ENO Womens Chorus here are superb, utterly transfixing the audience with their fearful mob and tremulous desperate searching for contact. The show is worth seeing just for their touch perfect panoptic performance, choreographed to the hilt, their voices, feelings and futures brutally hammered into one, portraying the plight of women in this horror show of a fallen American.
Opening using the epilogue from the book, with a far-future presentation on the ‘fall of Gilead’, Juliette Stevenson was uber swish, literally gleaming in an angelic white trouser suit with sharp pressed trousers introducing us to the context. In the book this person is a non-binary First Nations professor ‘Pieixoto’ from an Arctic university, suggesting a triumph of diversity and inclusion over the bigotries of Gilead’s repression but in an utterly changed world, of devastated physical geography and personal identities.
With her eloquent vocal tones and perfect hair, Stevenson is Little Miss WASP, the stalls and my companion in particular swooning at her minimalist, glamorous presence each time she wafted on and off stage. An interesting choice of casting, giving real star quality to the night, but diminishing, perhaps, Atwood’s academic framing of the narrative. My companion was thrilled by Stevenson, and she was a real hit with the crowd.
Costumes show clear hierarchies by quality of clothing and style and give a subtle industrial horror to the night. A line up of Wives in sharp electric blue contrasting with the drab beiges of the Handmaids, their pallet of blue shoes stepping across the misery and brutality of their attitude, the famous Handmaids’ poke bonnets becoming something brutally bespoke, reclaimed and removed as status and usage of these subjugated women changed.
With attacks on reproductive rights, women’s equality and gender equity becoming shriller by the day, this revival is a great move, striking the zeitgeist by ENO to shore up its base and attract new and more diverse audiences.
The ENO offers a full range of ticket options, starting from £10, so check out how you can go along and see this extremely effective revival.
Recommended. Until February 15, various dates. Guidance 15+
For more info or to book tickets see the ENO’s website here
