Measure for Measure (Series 1 Episode 5)

First Transmitted 18th February 1979

Tim Piggot-Smith and Kate Nelligan encounter sin and temptation in Vienna

Cast: Kenneth Colley (Duke Vinentio), Kate Nelligan (Isabella), Tim Piggot-Smith (Angelo), John McEnery (Lucio), Christopher Strauli (Claudio), Kevin Stoney (Escalus), Frank Middlemass (Pompey), Jacqueline Pearce (Mariana), Alun Armstrong (Provost), Adrienne Corri (Mistress Overdone), Yolande Palfrey (Juliet)
Director: Desmond Davis

I should probably announce a conflict of interest of sorts here– as I watch this production I’m currently a couple of months into rehearsals for Oxford Theatre Guild’s Measure for Measure, directed by my very talented wife Cate, in which I’m playing the Duke. So, unlike all the previous productions I’ve seen so far, I probably came to this one with more personal ‘baggage’ than usual.

As well as that, I was aware of the reputation of this production. It’s generally used as an example of one of the best in the series, and is probably the most acclaimed of the Cedric Messina era. I found it very well made but somehow slightly underwhelming, for reasons that I’ll go into later on.

First, though, to concentrate on the good things. Any production of Measure for Measure is going to revolve around the confrontation scenes between Isabella and Angelo. In a curiously structured play, the clash of these two secondary characters (in terms of stage time and lines) is the spark that ignites this play. The scenes themselves are extremely well done, with excellent performances from the two actors. Davis introduces some interesting camera flourishes, alternating short and long shots between the two opponents, slowly bringing them closer together to share the frame. It’s a very nice, subtle way of hinting at a link between the two characters and also does a nice job of building the confrontation slowly rather than hurling us straight in (see the image for how this progresses).

Kate Nelligan gives an excellent performance as a devout, earnest Isabella who has a complete faith in natural order. She seems almost uncertain about what influence she can bring to bear on events. Angelo’s unwillingness to pardon her brother provokes tears of disbelief in her eyes – as if a world operating without justice is unimaginable to her. She is a woman who has a rigid personal understanding of right and wrong and refuses to compromise on these. Overflowing in faith – in the divine, in order, in justice – she is crushed rather than upset or angry when the world is revealed as not a land of perfect absolutes.


She’s well matched  by Tim Pigott-Smith’s soft-spoken, sneering Angelo, here a man full of pride and ambition (in a nice touch, once the Duke leaves he immediately dresses in a far grander style than before). Interestingly there is a real sense of emotion under his surface – in A2 S2 there is a suggestion of tears in his eyes from Isabella’s actions – and he is clearly deeply conflicted by his actions, unable to sleep, at one point almost unable to confront his own reflection. Pigott-Smith has a real gift of bringing humanity to the character, playing a misguided intellectual in too deep. His visible discomfort during the final scene as lies and accusations entrap him is the self-loathing of a man who knows he has done wrong and can’t change it.

For me the problems revolve around the creative decisions taken with the Duke. While Isabella and Angelo instigate the plot, it’s the Duke who serves as the motor. The Duke is a very challenging, immensely opaque part – despite his huge number of lines, it’s never clear why he does what he does. In addition, no other character seems to truly know him either – he is discussed purely in relation to his office, rather than his personality. What you need for a successful production is a strong, clear and convincing performance from the actor playing him. Kenneth Colley is a solid character actor who does his best, but he underplays the role to a quite striking degree.

The unknowable quality of the Duke is emphasised by Colley’s softly spoken, low key performance. He never seems to raise his voice, he rarely loses his temper and seems uncomfortable from the start with people. While he does seem believable as a man alienated from power in favour of intellect (he is introduced fiddling with a theodolite), it makes him a hard character to invest in or care about. He seems more concerned that people recognise his intelligence (one of his few moments of anger is aimed towards Lucio for scorning the Duke’s wisdom) than he does with Isabella, Angelo or Claudio. He doesn’t seem to get a ‘buzz’ from the final scene. There isn’t any real attempt made to suggest change or development in the Duke – he neither seems like a gleeful arch manipulator or a man who feels compelled to help those in need. In fact it’s hard to understand what sort of man he is or why people like Isabella are drawn towards him.

Kenneth Colley is a fine actor and anyone who has seen the Inspector Morse episode ‘Second Time Around’ knows tortured passion, manipulation and raw emotion are well within his range. So it feels a real shame that he hasn’t brought some of that energy to this part. It’s as if Desmond Davis didn’t really know exactly who he thought the Duke was and pointed Colley towards playing it as neutrally as possible. Now they may have been aiming to have the Duke as a kind of void that the audience overlays their interpretation on top of, but for me it just doesn't quite work. This is by no means a bad performance at all, but it’s not a completely successful one.

This disconnection is a feature of the entire interpretation of the play. Davis is a good director, but for a play filled with as many complexities as this one, I felt a number of opportunities had been missed. By making the Duke so opaque, it becomes harder – despite the brilliance of Nelligan’s performance – to understand the actions of Isabella in taking him into her confidence. In particular the famous ending seems increasingly odd – there is little sense made through the production of a particular link being formed between the two characters – so when Isabella takes a moment and then smilingly takes the Duke’s hands it seems a sudden decision rather than a logical development.

It’s hard not to be a little disappointed about a very well-made, well-acted but ever so slightly empty interpretation of the play. There is a vacancy in the centre of this drama, in both drama and textual analysis that leaves the production a little cold. I wanted more engagement with the challenging plot of this play – it’s not clear to me watching this if Davis was going for predominately tragedy or comedy – in fact it becomes a little unclear about what the production is about at all. Redemption? Coming to terms with reality? The nature of duty? Hypocrisy and corruption of power? I don’t really know, and that’s a problem.

For a production that tries to embrace some of the comedy, much of it falls flat. There is something about the po-faced seriousness of this series that deadens comic material that already struggles to translate from stage to screen. The Froth-Escalus-Pompey exchange in A2 S1 drags and, although Frank Middlemass does some very good work here with Pompey as a crude, slightly stupid carouser, it’s a part that is never as funny as it should be. The funny moments are throw-away – the Provost bringing on Ragozine’s head with a simple “Here’s the head. I’ll take it to Angelo” raises a chuckle as does Lucio's "This could prove be worse than a hanging" and there are other smaller moments away from the more overtly ‘comic’ parts that work.

Now saying that, there are some wonderful touches here in the design and feel. Mistress Overdone’s brothel has a wonderful suggestion of a Wild West Saloon without any anachronistic details, with patrons smoking cigars in a boozy atmosphere. Later the location is trashed by soldiers, with the Duke making his A3 S1 speech in the middle of a smashed-up knocking shop, which is a very effective image. The same set is also subtly redressed as the Nunnery, which is an effective touch. The prison has a fantastic rough and ready feel to it, lit like a mixture of hell and a red-light district. There are some very well done tracking shots through the street sets as prisoners are taken to captivity – very hard to pull-off well in a studio set.

There are also some good performances which I feel like I haven’t really mentioned. A young Alun Armstrong is a stand-out as an honest, dry and extremely likeable Provost. John McEnery also does a very good job with Lucio, playing him as a rouged fop, obsessed with making himself constantly the centre of attention. Kevin Stoney makes for a well-meaning but slightly ineffective Escalus. Christopher Stauli (an underwhelming Benvolio earlier in the series) does an awful lot with Claudio’s big scene bemoaning his fate.

 

Reading back over this I feel I have been impossibly harsh on this production. Quite possibly this is driven by the fact that I’m currently crammed with my own ideas about the lead character and that I’m seeing this show about three times a week at the moment. If I had watched it a few months from now, I might well have had a different view. And I probably will take the opportunity to watch this again, because I think there is a lot of good work here. But for me, I still think that this series as a whole at this stage is still shying away from true interpretative work. All the productions so far have been predominately fairly straight telling of the stories of the play and, for all its assurance and good acting, this is the same.

Conclusion
A central performance that doesn’t quite work coupled with two excellent performances from the key supporting roles combine with some fine film making to produce a highly professional, well made production. Not a bad performance from the support either, and it looks fantastic. But there is a slightly disappointing lack of interpretative logic here – it’s a little too much a straight telling of the play, when you feel the potential was here for more. It’s very good, but it’s not quite great. But definitely worth a watch.

NEXT TIME: John Stride divorces Claire Bloom and destroys Timothy West in the little performed Henry VIII. There will probably be less sex than in The Tudors.