The Swan Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon has presented a series of great plays since it reopened after its refurbishment in April, and topping off 2023 with a re-imagining of Thomas Heywood’s “The Fair Maid of the West” might well be the jewel in the crown of an extremely successful creative year.
Isobel McArthur (Pride and Prejudice* [sort of*]) has updated this 16/17th century comedy into a riotous jukebox musical which tears on at such a pace that both the interval and the finale seemed to come too soon.
McArthur’s updated original text, unabashedly and proudly opens with a prologue delivered by the mysterious “Pub Regular” (Richard Katz) forever speaking in rhyming couplets, who tells us that the writer has asked him to let us all know that they had kept the good bits of the original, got rid of the not -so-good-bits, and added some new bits. His aside of “just because something is old, doesn’t mean it’s good” received an appreciative response from the audience, understanding the irony considering the venue and its programme of work.
This version of Fair Maid tells the story of Liz Bridges; (RSC regular Amber James) a barmaid in a Plymouth pub, who deals appropriately and efficiently with the rough and tumble traders and merchants she sees daily. The Pub Regular, it quickly becomes clear, is an omniscient presence, who only Liz (and we) can see, and who reminds us throughout that Liz will change the world one day.
Into the pub comes Spencer (Philip Labey), a rich fop, who flamboyantly proposes to Liz, with a wild trio of singers and dancers. Liz, with some annoyance, declines on the grounds that she has never met him before, and the scene is set for Spencer’s arc into proving his love, and proving his worth to Liz. A tragedy forces Liz to flee for her safety and Spencer gifts her the keys to a pub his family own in Cornwall, which she accepts on the proviso she never has to see him again. The new pub (The Open Arms) becomes Liz’s raison d’etre, and it is here that a whole host of characters appear, and become Liz’s loyal entourage: Windbag (Tom Babbage) the braggart postman, Roughman (Aruhan Galieva) – a bully who becomes Liz’s protector after she stands up to him, Clem (Emmy Stonelake) Liz’s most faithful companion, and Bardolf (Matthew Woodyatt), a recent divorcee who is touched by Liz’s kindness. Together, they bring the pub to life, overseeing Spencer’s constantly rejected affections, booming business and a whole side story about the need to catch rats. Act One ends on a cliffhanger which sees the entire crew go to Spain in Act 2 – a risky move, during the Anglo-Spanish war – to mount a daring rescue mission.
The story in its updated form, champions women and references current political concerns as well as responding to the original contemporaneous times, but the joy and heart of the production is the music. Composer Michael John McCarthy and MD Tarek Merchant have produced something spectacular. Many of the cast are actor-musicians, who seamlessly weave from multi-role characters to house band, and back again and the music score and choices are outstanding. Using songs from across decades, genres and styles, the play captures absolute gold with solos, love songs, snippets, excerpts, and big ensemble numbers which punctuate the story so effectively, that there isn’t a second of dead air on the stage.
McArthur’s script is brilliantly on-point, and really nothing seems to be off-limits in its acerbic and cutting observations, making gags on love, gender and both English and Spanish stereotypes. The song choices do the same. The original Heywood script is genuinely turned on its head, with only some elements of the story remaining, but this 2023 outing is absolutely unapologetic, and backs itself to the hilt on those choices.
Amber James is a delightful Liz, and Philip Labey’s Spencer is beautifully wet, with a hint of sharpness. Emmy Stonelake plays Clem in a feisty and nuanced way, and Tom Babbage’s Windbag is spot-on. The excellent support from the ensemble (notably Mel Lowe and Marc Giro) keeps up the outstanding pace, and the outrageous scene featuring the King of Spain (David Rankine) on his horse, really lands.
The set and costume (Ana Ines Jabares-Pita) are excellent – the modular set becoming a variety of pubs, and even a sailing vessel, and the costumes are an updated nod to Elizabethan times. The use of furniture from the iconic Dirty Duck up the road add to the communal feel, and some of the ground level seats at the front are bar stools and benches, which serve to bring the audience into the action.
This was a real romp, with joy exuded from every pore on stage, a nod to a bit of silliness (the Glaswegian with a photographic memory of Jukebox classics a real highlight) and some serious elements that never dropped pace. A production on at Christmas that absolutely in no way references the festive season, felt like a festival in every sense, and the standing ovation (unusual for a press night) was undoubtedly deserved. A phenomenal piece of unmissable theatre, that felt like a night at the pub with my best mates.
