Pericles, not included in the First Folio and generally considered as authorially dubious, has only ever been staged in Stratford six times. With fewer tasty soundbites and sympathetic characters than some of his other works, it is a piece noticeably written by a waning talent; and we can imagine our Will sitting round the tavern table, scratching his increasingly glabrous pate, sifting through his greatest hits catalogue as he desperately tries to stay relevant.
A dreamlike piece which bowls along at a merry pace
“I’m thinking a shipwreck… yes, I know I’ve done that before, but hear me out, this shipwreck comes with… er… incest, cheeky bit of proposed rape, a contest, auctioned virginity, mistaken identity, a brothel, people trafficking, death, lots of death, evil stepmother type, oh… and I’m going to retcon the fate of one of the leading characters. But here… HERE’s the real kicker… we add…” and here, he flashes a decaying grin, wiggles his eyebrows and declaims in a theatrical whisper: “pirates”.
Yup. Narratively speaking, Pericles is a hot mess, but one which is successfully wrangled by Tamara Harvey and her crew into a dreamlike piece which bowls along at a merry pace and almost manages to make some of the more problematic elements work to a 2024 audience.
As Pericles, the Prince of Tyre whose travels – both literal and emotional – form the backbone of the piece, Alfred Enoch is a warm and engaging presence. But this leader is almost too human and too good to be interesting: and thus necessarily becomes coated with misfortune in order to boost the vicissitudes of his journey for a bloodthirsty audience.
There is strong support from a game cast: the always excellent Philip Bird a well-meaning Helicanus and a delicate yet gritty Rachelle Diedericks as Marina moving the plot ahead with energy and immediacy. Christian Patterson as Simonides steals his few scenes in a glorious performance so genial and all-encompassing that one can hardly believe the ease and generosity with which he withdraws back into chorus mode. But, as we might expect, this is an ensemble piece and there are some lovely vignettes sprinkled liberally throughout this enterprisingly labelled exploration of leadership.
Annie-Lunnette Deakin-Foster brings her trademark magic to the choreography; the cast writhing and swaying through Jonathan Fensom’s sparse set of strung rope to switch locations with a fluidity of movement which reinforces the ethereal atmosphere. The costume palette - earthy terracottas and blue/greens - reflects the conflict between the earth and the sea, popping from the black background under the golden orbs of caged light like a renaissance painting.
This is an excellent opportunity to catch a fine production of a slightly flimsy play. In choosing Pericles as her first directorial gig at the RSC, Tamara Harvey has proved her judgement to be joyful, ambitious and bang on the money. If she can turn this base metal into gold, then our great and beloved instruction is in very good hands indeed.
