The Orphan of Zhao, ADC Theatre, Cambridge, 10th – 15th March 2026
The Orphan of Zhao dates back to the 4th century BC and was the first Chinese play to be translated in the West. The text used in this production is an excellent adaptation by the poet and theatre reviewer James Fenton that premiered with the RSC in 2012. It has now been brought to the ADC stage by director Chester Chen and a teriffic cast of students, and the result is an outstanding production that will have theatre-goers feeling utterly immersed in this great oriental tale.
As Chen points out in his programme notes, many aspects of the play are “relevant” today: “Political cruelty, morality of individual choices, sacrifices for ‘the greater good’… Orphan is about what remains worth contemplating in 2026.” The power-hungry Tu’an Gu certainly embodies political cruelty, for he will stop at nothing to become the Emperor’s favourite military official. To be feared by the other officials, and by the people, is what he craves. “They shall be put to the sword!” he barks. Barney Sayburn is perfect for the role, his imposing stature and furious glare accentuating the character’s menace, while his black cape and long, black and gold bixi (a piece of fabric worn over the front of the lower garment) complete the villainous look. He ensures his opening monologue, delivered to the audience, fits in seamlessly with the rest of the scene, and the other actors follow suit (these monologues, breaking the fourth wall, are a clever device in Fenton’s adaptation). When Tu’an Gu decides that one of his peers, Zhao Dun, must be killed, along with the entire Zhao clan, a princess is left carrying Zhao Dun’s baby, whose chances of survival appear extremely slim. Will the orphan survive against the odds?
Oriental melodies imbue this production with musicality, and the haunting songs are sung with care and feeling by the cast, particularly by the Ballad Singer, Julianna McIntyre. There is also much gracefulness of movement, not least from Rosie Nicol, as Death, who leads the other characters a merry dance. Death is traditionally represented by the colour white in Chinese culture, in contrast with the Grim Reaper of Western tradition, and the make-up department make Nicol’s face suitably impassive yet mournful. A pagoda tree festooned with red ribbons adorns one side of the stage, while the impish Emperor, resplendent in a fabulous costume, takes pot-shots at the people from on high.
These features, and more, mean that we are certainly immersed in the story and transported to its ancient setting, but the icing on the cake is provided by the abundance of stunning performances by the multicultural cast. Chester Chen (also the director) excels as Cheng Ying, bringing profundity to his portrayal of a lowly physician thrust into events beyond his control. Krish Misra is very well cast as Cheng Bo, naïve and joyful at first and then slowly realising the truth, while Leo Lu brings great energy to the role of Wei Jiang, and Daniel Hanlon is wisdom personified as the elderly Gongsun Chiuju. Munya Mundove is the man who, as Zhao Dun, faces the unenviable task of choosing which of the three imperial punishments (dagger, poison or bowstring) will bring about his demise, and he and Hattie Jones (as the Princess) bring passion to their roles, as does the anguished Elena Zheng, as Cheng Ying’s wife. There are wonderful cameos by Edward Campbell, Daisy Webb and many others, too.
The character of Cheng Ying shows us that sometimes, making a choice that leads to ‘the greater good’ is easier than might be expected, but as the play moves towards its thrilling denouement, what revelations lie in store for young Cheng Bo, and can anyone prevent the ruthless Tu’an Gu from seizing power? One thing is for sure: the thunderous applause at the end of the opening night was richly deserved. Congratulations to everyone involved in this production on their stunning achievement.
