In 1968 the Italian director Franco Zeffirelli created something of a stir
when he released his feature film of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.
That wasn't because the film was an artistic triumph - though neither
was it a complete stinker. Rather, it was his choice of leading actors that
grabbed the headlines. Juliet was played by 16 years old Olivia Hussey and
her lover Romeo by Leonard Whiting who was just a year older.
In fact, Shakespeare tells us - through the words of her nurse - that in
the play Juliet is aged just 13. Romeo, we can probably assume, is in his
late teens. With few actresses of 13 or actors of, say, 19 actually up to
the required artistic standard, the roles have more usually been taken by
their seniors. Exotic silent screen vamp Theda Bara was a 31 years old Juliet
in 1916; a couple of decades later, Hollywood’s dream pairing of the star-crossed
lovers involved 33 years old Norma Shearer and Leslie Howard who was, in
reality, aged 42.
Similarly, in the world of dance few performers have the technique to essay
the roles at an appropriately Shakespearean age. Most famously, when Kenneth
MacMillan's ballet was first staged in 1965, the ballerina creating
the leading role was 45 years old Margot Fonteyn. To be fair, the critics
of the time felt that her years melted away when she was partnered with
Rudolf Nureyev, a mere slip of a boy at 26. It is nonetheless worth pointing
out that the choreographer had originally had Lynn Seymour and Christopher
Gable, both in their mid-20s, in mind for the roles until Covent Garden’s
management demanded a new showcase for their iconic stars Fonteyn and Nureyev.
Since that 1965 premiere, the Royal Ballet has presented this version of
Romeo and Juliet more than 400 times. On this new DVD, preserving
a 2012 broadcast relayed to cinemas worldwide, the leads are Federico Bonelli,
in his mid-30s at the time, and Lauren Cuthbertson who was in her late 20s.
The first point to emphasise is that both are entirely convincing in their
depiction of teenage lovers. The charismatic Bonelli certainly looks younger
than his real age and graduates convincingly from laddish bravado to lovestruck
swain. At the same time Cuthbertson - cleverly costumed as a convincingly
flat-chested adolescent - captures to perfection the gauche yet dreamy mannerisms
of a girl on the cusp of womanhood. When we first meet her in the second
scene, she impresses with her youthful, carefree agility: this really is
a girl who would still play with a doll. Yet, just moments later, when she
first catches sight of her Romeo (33:23) and then quickly goes on to partner
him in a dance, she is transformed in front of our eyes - and to her own
evident wonderment - into a young adult. Cleverly, though, this is no simple
black/white transformation: in the subsequent “balcony" scene, which
is no such thing because a romantic pas de deux requires rather
more in the way of floor space, Juliet still exhibits a child’s wide-eyed
amazement as she and Romeo experience the emotional ecstasy of young love.
The standard of dancing here is at least the match of the acting. Cuthbertson,
in particular, makes the most amazing use of her supple body throughout
- and, ironically enough, in the final scene she makes an especially striking
impression as a drugged “corpse” being thrown this way and that by a Romeo
who is in utter despair at his apparent loss.
The other principal dancers also acquit themselves very well. Among others,
I was struck especially by Valeri Hristov who dances the role of Paris and
completely inhabits the role as a born aristocrat, a convincing suitor for
Juliet whether courting her in her bedroom or at the subsequent ball. Alexander
Campbell impresses too as a suitably lively and youthful Mercutio, playing
the arguably over-choreographed death scene quite memorably. Bennet Gartside’s
portrayal of Tybalt exudes convincingly poisonous brutality and malevolence,
while Christina Arestis makes the most of her subsequent opportunity for
some excessive but rather moving emoting over his corpse.
Kenneth MacMillan’s choreography mixes its moods with impressive effect.
Beautifully constructed moments of intimacy for the lovers are contrasted
with strikingly vigorous episodes for dancers en masse in both
the marketplace scenes, notable for their interplay between colourful harlots
and respectable townsfolk, and the Capulets’ ball. As well as dancing the
roles of both Friar Laurence and Lord Montague, the company’s busy Ballet
Master Christopher Newton is responsible for the lively and very convincing
swordplay.
Nicholas Georgiadis’s sets have not dated a jot in almost 50 years. That
for Friar Laurence’s chapel is an especially attractive faux-Byzantine concoction.
Beautiful and elaborate costumes of a vaguely early 15th century
design complement the production’s warm colour palette – all reds, oranges,
umbers and browns.
The Covent Garden orchestra, led with authority and conviction by the experienced
Barry Wordsworth, was on fine form for this recording and the results are
conveyed in top rate dts Digital Surround sound.
In general the director has filmed this relatively straightforwardly but
also very well. There are hardly any “clever” shots that merely serve to
draw attention to themselves. We simply see, in general, what we are supposed
to be seeing - but with the extra clarity that close-ups and high quality
filming provide. The camera is used cleverly to catch a few small, intimate
details: at 5:42, for instance, an effective close-up catches Romeo tuning
his mandolin. The most gimmicky - but very effective – piece of camerawork
is a single shot that zooms in powerfully and at some length on Juliet's
face (108:15 – 108:52) while, underneath the shot, Prokofiev’s pulsating
score illustrates her inner emotionalturmoil.
As ever, however, it is worth mentioning the regularly encountered drawback
of close-up cameras inadvertently revealing too much detail of a stage production.
Thus, a “dead” body moves at 14:01, just as, rather later, we see that Romeo
is still breathing after his “death”. Close-ups of Juliet’s hands show her
making a rather laughable attempt at “playing” the mandolin. At 128:02 we
can see some part of the curtain or stage machinery moving in the gloom
behind the dancers in close up. All these are very minor points, perhaps,
but each momentarily destroys that suspension of disbelief that should be
at the core of a theatrical experience.
As well as preserving the performance, this DVD includes some short extras
– an interesting ten-minute documentary about Macmillan and his ballet and
another five minutes devoted to teaching the male dancers how to fight safely
but convincingly with swords. There is also a gallery of pictures of the
cast.
The post-production work on the disc might, though, have been a little more
carefully done. Does no one double check captions and their punctuation
– apostrophes in particular - before they are signed off? Thus, at 21:37
we read that the next scene takes place at “the Capulet’s house”, raising
the question of who exactly this singular “the Capulet” might be. Perhaps
Opus Arte should invest a few pounds in a copy of Lynne Truss’s bestselling
guide to punctuation Eats, shoots & leaves.
As you would expect, during the curtain calls the Covent Garden audience
shows its justified appreciation. At that point, too, we at last get a good
full-length view of conductor Barry Wordsworth. In doing so, we discover
that he is wearing what looks like a rather nifty pair of black jim-jams.
Perhaps, after such a successful and no doubt exhausting evening’s work
- and rather like the amorous Romeo and Juliet themselves - he just wanted
to save time and get as quickly as possible into bed.
Rob Maynard
Entirely convincing in its depiction of teenage lovers: wide-eyed amazement
… the emotional ecstasy of young love.
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