BATS Theatre
January 10-19 | Reviewed by Helen Sims

BLASTING the Sex Pistols as pre-show music proved to be an apt warm up for A Renaissance Man – it mostly features sword fighting, anarchy and sex. The show begins with a voice-over taking us back to 1599 and introducing us to the dire scene of Henry Donne about to be martyred for his Catholic faith in Protestant England. He is visited by his brother John (the ‘Renaissance Man’ in question, played by Phil Peleton) and a scene of despair, marked by stilted dialogue unfolds before Henry is dragged off. This is about as serious as it gets however. We soon learn that John is a lover not a fighter, and has been using his poetic abilities mostly as an aid to seduce various strumpets around London. The crazy Sir Philip Sidney, Chief interrogator for Queen Elizabeth uses John to deliver a cycle of appalling poems to his muse, Stella, and as an informant. However, the shady, hooded Catholic figure Edmund Campion, wants to enlist him to fight for the same cause as his brother. In addition the equally mad Earl of Essex (husband to Stella) also has plans for John as he seeks the throne. John just wants advancement, so he has to play all sides to try and increase his fortune. Add into this the flighty but quite cunning aristocratic Anne More, who only wants a wedding day, and John is in rather a mess. At the end of two hours this mess is (mostly) untangled.

This piece marks the fulfilment of a long dreamt of dramatic work on John Donne by Simon Vincent, who wanted to reveal how the drama of Donne’s life informed his poetry. Poetry is used extensively throughout the play, but the action frequently shows it up and an interesting conflict between action and poetry emerges. Will our hero be able to resolve this conflict within himself? Are they truly irreconcilable – is poetry the antithesis of action? The lightness of tone that marks this play doesn’t give us much of a resolution to this, but it’s fun to ponder it nonetheless. As the Director’s Note confesses, some of the biographical accuracy has given way to entertainment. But I’m not complaining – this was a highly entertaining play that mined the depths of despair and hilarity. And bawdiness, lots of bawdiness. If there was the opportunity for a thinly veiled sexual reference or slapstick visual comedy it doesn’t appear to have been missed by Lawrence and his cast. The visual gag involving the watermelon at the end is priceless – and it would have been equally funny had it not been pulled off.

In addition to the highly physical visual comedy are the swashbuckling sword fights, choreographed with precision by Allan Henry (who also plays Sir Sidney and a dastardly Spaniard with relish). When Henry enters wearing 4 swords dangling from his belt it produced a laugh, and everyone, even the girls, get to have a go by the end. Rachel More constructed the gorgeous, bosom heaving gowns that she and Erin Banks wore. All of the actors are excellent in their roles, although a standout for me was More as the wily and seductive Stella. Gavin Rutherford’s protracted death as Essex is hilarious and almost deserved to be rewound and repeated.

Who knows how many more Bacchanals plays there will be as the company gets increasingly aggravated (rightly so in my opinion) at receiving little funding despite their critical and popular success. Do not miss them – they are always intelligent, entertaining and accessible. This production, although on the lighter side of their usual fare, is no exception.