Jerusalem

When Jez Butterworth's play Jerusalem premiered on Broadway, all the talk was about Mark Rylance's performance in the leading role, but he never could have made the impression he did without Butterworth's writing.

For Americans, the title of the play might provoke a bit confusion, but for British people, the hymn "Jerusalem" (based on a poem by William Blake) is an iconic part of national heritage. The play name-checks Blake and even includes a passage of the hymn, which runs in part:

               And did those feet in ancient time

               Walk upon England's mountains green:

               And was the holy Lamb of God,

               On England's pleasant pastures seen!

               And did the Countenance Divine,

               Shine forth upon our clouded hills?

               And was Jerusalem builded here,

               Among these dark Satanic mills?

In the play Jerusalem, though, just after the word "Satanic" thumping music starts to play and the stage is transformed into the trailer home of the protagonist, Johnny "Rooster" Byron, played so memorably by Rylance. His name is an obvious reference to another Romantic poet, George Gordon Byron, whose specter haunts the play.

Lord Byron was as famous for his sexual exploits as he was for his poetry (perhaps even more so). When the play's "Rooster" Byron is threatened with expulsion from his illegal dwelling after a crisis meeting in the village hall, he remarks that he "shagged" one of the leading complainers only last June. Butterworth's Byron is not a poet by trade, but a daredevil who once leapt over rows of busses on his motorcycle, though he has now declined to selling drugs to local teenagers.

But there is a certain poetry in the lies he tells, including his tall tale of meeting a giant who built Stonehenge. The giant supposedly gave him a drum, telling him that if he ever needed help, he should beat on the drum, and giants will hear it and come to his aid. His companions mock his story at first, but when he challenges one of them to beat on a drum inscribed with something that looks like runes, the companion declines, just in case the giants might actually show up and be miffed by a false alarm.

Though Lord Byron was a lover and a poet (in addition to being a fine dramatist, penning plays like Manfred), he died a man of action, fighting for Greek independence against the armies of the Ottoman Empire. When the police come to evict him at the end of the play, "Rooster" Byron's friend warns him, "They got an army." Though we don't see Rooster die onstage, as Lord Byron died in Greece, Rooster's mad drumming at the end of the play could be seen as a symbolic death.

Butterworth's writing is quite powerful, and Jerusalem is a play well worth seeing, with or without Mark Rylance.

Farinelli and the King

Last night I saw Claire van Kampen's play Farinelli and the King at the Belasco Theatre. The show originated at the Sam Wanamaker Theatre in London, where last year I saw The Secret Theatre. Like all the plays at the Wanamaker, this piece is lit by candlelight, which is quite impressive to see in a big Broadway house like the Belasco.

Of course, the Belasco is not completely lit by candlelight. (Safety codes probably don't allow that.) Still, every effort is made to reproduce the atmosphere of the much smaller Wanamaker. Fortunately, the Belasco is small enough that even if you sit in the balcony (as I did) you can still have a nice view of the candlelit stage and magnificent period costumes.

Mark Rylance stars as King Philippe V, the Bourbon king who ruled Spain for much of the first half of the eighteenth century. Phillippe was known for his mental instability, which Rylance plays rather deftly. His weakness of mind made many advisors fear he would be dominated by his second wife, the unpopular Isabella Farnese, portrayed here by Melody Grove, who not surprisingly was nominated for an Olivier Award when she played the role in London.

In the play, Isabella patiently tries to deal with the antics of her husband, whom she clearly loves. Nothing seems to work, however, until she secures the services of the famous castrato singer Carlo Farinelli. Sam Crane plays Farinelli in the production, but his voice is provided by two singers, Iestyn Davies and James Hall. The music for the play is magnificent, including harpsichord, violins, cello, Baroque guitar, etc. Certainly, if you're a fan of Baroque music, the play is a must-see.

After the set-up of Act I, the play really finds itself in the second act as the king creates a small retreat in the forest where he lives in Edenic happiness with his wife and the seemingly magical Farinelli, whose music soothes his fits and helps him to recover his strength of mind. An Eden implies a fall, though, and the triad cannot be maintained. After the king dies (rather unexpectedly for this audience member) his beloved Isabella and Farinelli don't know what to do with themselves. Though once a star, the singer retreats into an attic and scorns the world of musical fame. It is as if he cannot get over the beauty and happiness he once had known.

For theatre history fans, the play also portrays John Rich, the English producer who opened the Theatre Royal at Covent Garden in 1732 and ran it until 1761. Simon Jones plays Rich as a harried, impatient manager constantly concerned that yesterday's hit won't pay tomorrow's expenses. Like the rest of the cast, he is a delight to watch.

If you want to see Farinelli and the King, it's only playing until March 25th, so get your tickets soon. For more information, go to:

Belasco Theatre