But the decision was made to visit Stratford last week during my two-week holiday from work so we tied it in with a visit to the theatre to see the RSC's latest revival of Shakespeare's comedy THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.
I had only seen the play before when the National Theatre staged it's one-and-only production of it in 1995, with a cast including Denis Quilley as Falstaff and Brenda Bruce as Mistress Quickly. The production was directed by Terry Hands... who had also directed CARRIE. How cyclical theatre can be eh? By the way - speaking of WIVES - Terry Hands shares with his fellow-RSC artistic and associate directors Peter Hall, Trevor Nunn and John Caird the staggering number of 15 wives! Shaggers.
But here we were, in the unfriendly surroundings of the RST with it's warren-like stairs and passageways - not to mention the ghastly high-stool seats we were in - to see Fiona Laird's revival of Shakespeare's comedy of circa 1597 which included an extended introduction of it's supposed origins: allegedly Queen Elizabeth asked Shakespeare for another play featuring Sir John Falstaff, preferably a comedy of him in love.
Indeed the play feels like a star vehicle for the actor playing Sir John, and here he was wonderfully brought to life by David Troughton in true rambunctious fashion. Thanks to a very good fat suit he is truly larger-than-life and gave a performance that rattled the rafters. Thank goodness too because he was surrounded by cartoonish portrayals that tipped the play into CARRY ON STRATFORD!
The action is transplanted to the garish world of Essex in it's awful collective lack of taste. Sir John Falstaff has found himself financially embarrassed so hits upon the idea of romancing the two wealthiest wives of the town; what he doesn't know is that they are best friends and, when they show each other his identical letters of love, decide to get their revenge on him.
Throw into the dizzying mix that Mistress Page's daughter is being chased by various suitors that her parents approve of but she secretly loves the sweet but bumbling young Fenton and that Mistress Ford's husband is sure she is unfaithful to him so disguises himself to ask Falstaff to seduce his wife for a fee.
Although most of the attempts of desperate gag-cracking left me cold, I will admit that the production was not without a pleasant charm and there were nice performances from the Merry Wives themselves - Rebecca Lacey as Mistress Ford and Beth Cordingley as Mistress Page - Jonathan Cullen as the English-mangling French doctor Dr. Caius and Luke Newberry as the accident-prone Fenton.
But there were two calamitous performances from Ishia Bennison as Mistress Quickley and Katy Brittain as a gender-swapped Hostess of The Garter Inn, screeching and clattering around in leopardskin coats and dresses: the unholy spawn of a gene pool consisting of Barbara Windsor and Lesley Joseph.
Fiona Laird left no bargain-basement gag untouched and we got Brexit, wheelie-bins, viral YouTube videos - "FENTON!!" - audience singalongs of "Bread of Heaven", and knob and bum jokes galore. I felt that the grafting of the The Only Way Is Essex onto Shakespeare's comedy drowned it; rather than laughing with Shakespeare's characters, the thinly-veiled snobbery of the approach made you laugh *at* them instead.
As I said there were some nice performances to lighten the load and Lez Brotherston's designs were an eye-popping delight and luckily there was David Troughton to bring a whiff of real bawdy Bard realness to give us some genuine laughs. I will not soon forget his roaring disdain of having an egg in his goblet of Sack: "I'll have no pullet-sperm in my brewage!"
The good news is that I was so taken with Stratford that hopefully it won't be 30 years till I return again.
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