Emilia
Acushla-Tara Kupe, Jen Van Epps, and Fiona Collins.
When casting was announced in early February, there was no question that Emilia was to be a sure-fire hit for the Pop-up Globe’s farewell season. Putting aside the fact that the day before opening in Auckland the play secured three Olivier Award nominations (Best Sound Design, Best Costume Design, and the Noel Coward Award for Best Entertainment or Comedy Play), it marks a drastic 180 degree turn from previous PuG productions’ casting practices. For while British playwright Morgan Lloyd Malcolm has written some incredibly beautiful and powerful dialogue, Emilia’s true strength lies more in its licencing than any critical appraisal of its content.
The role of the three Emilia’s have been written for non-white actors. All characters must be played by female-identifying actors. And it has been written with the intention of being performed by a diverse cast. A visibly overwhelmed and appreciative Malcolm was brought to the stage on opening night, and as applause resounded with palpable emotion, the effect of witnessing not only the story of Emilia Lanier, a poet in her own right too often relegated to the eponymous Dark Lady of Shakespeare’s sonnets, but of it also told by a diverse cast was undeniably evident. But while such representation is important, it does not in turn make the content of the play inherently interesting.
I have no doubt that women in the audience will relate to the events in the play, unfortunately, these events do not lend themselves towards much theatrical dynamism, because Emilia is a relatively inactive protagonist. Many things happen to her, and this is of course a symptom of living in a patriarchal society, but outside of a biopic narrative, there are very few consequential actions which create progressive conflict to drive the play. The result is that the production comes across quite one-noted. Scenes tend to sustain a monotonous pace, while transitions lack the ability to punctuate or bookmark the stages of Emilia’s life. Fortunately, director Miriama McDowell, and choreographer and assistant director Katrina George, use the space well with a combination of subtle, dynamic, and comedic corporal dramaturgy and mise-en-scènes – especially the simple yet evocative whisking away of a cot, and book-stacked pyre – and the transitions between the three Emilia’s are beautifully executed.
From the moment Fiona Collins enters the stage as Emilia 3, she carries with her both the wonderment of youth and integrity of age that dutifully signals the journey to come, however, her vocal strength is lacking in a space that desperately needs it. Acushla-Tara Kupe is an affable and comedic Emilia 1, although the traumas of her early life don’t appear to layer as her character develops, while Jen Van Epps, perhaps a victim of middle-child syndrome as Emilia 2, is too loose, lacking specificity in her actions to make her resonate beyond the archetypal heroine.
Celeste De-Freitas
Meanwhile, Celeste De-Freitas steals the show with understated yet hilariously droll performances as both Lady Cordelia and Alphonso Lanier, while Saraid de Silva spits the sharp wit but misses the emotional turn in the admittedly underwritten character development of Lady Katherine, and appears overtly self-aware of her performance, often looking to the audience as if seeking a friend in the crowd.
The usually larger than life stage presence of Lucinda Hare is unexpectedly restrained, or perhaps subdued, although shines when she pushes beyond these boundaries by employing her naturally comedic delivery, while Roimata Templeton relies on face-pulling, vocal straining, and reckless gesticulation to portray the aged Lord Henry Carey.
(Clockwise) Grace Bentley-Tsibuah, Rashmi Pilapitiya, Batani Mashinggaidze, and Bree Peters.
At the other end of this spectrum, Rashmi Pilapitiya nails the absurdity of the pompous Lord Howard, while Sarah Houbolt’s skills as a circus and physical theatre performer provides a spectacle flair that could be more heavily incorporated.
Emilia’s legacy is not so much in what she did, but what she did for women, which is most evident in her relationships with Hester, Mary, and Eve, played with breath-taking authenticity that constantly tips the balance of emotional scales within a single line by Batani Mashingaidze, Bree Peters, and Grace Bentley-Tsibuah, respectively. Hearing these women speak in accents that reflect their ethnicities was not only incredibly refreshing, but also allowed the words to sit deep within them.
While I cannot deny that Emilia is a significant and important work, I also cannot ignore its dramaturgical faults which are apparent when one sees beyond the flames of anger that illuminate the text. The only thing worse than not actually watching a play, is knowing you’re watching a play. This is, perhaps, a curse of criticism, the inability to let go of a cerebral objectivity, because while others fed back a similar experience, the greater response to the production was one of overwhelming positivity at being drenched in the feminist wave that crashed across the stage. Emilia may not have spoken to me as consistently as Lanier herself does, but her presence on the Pop-up Globe stage, as the final visage of a five-year theatrical tenure, is one of undeniable success.