Edward II is an audacious play to begin a theatre season with. At the end of a notorious rivalry, history showed Christopher Marlowe — the play's author — to have lost to Shakespeare by becoming something of an obscure playwright, known more for his name and relationship to the aforementioned Bard than he is for his work. So why begin with this and not any one of the almost countless works of Shakespeare, more likely to be known and recognized by students? Because Edward II — also known as The Troublesome Reign and Lamentable Death of Edward the Second, King of England, with the Tragical Fall of Proud Mortimer — is a remarkable gem of theatre, with complex, nuanced and forward-thinking ideas that distinguish it as something truly special, and it is very well done by the UBC Film and Theatre Department.
The play wastes no time in getting straight into the meat of the plot. Edward II is crowned king and then the somewhat shady character of Gaveston takes the stage for a commanding monologue, dealt with great physicality by Daniel Curalli.
It is fitting that the audience should be properly introduced to Gaveston before the eponymous Edward, since he seems to be at the centre of the play's turmoil. He is not of noble birth, but has somehow come into great favour with the King — a favour that he benefits from greatly. After a time of banishment — thanks to the Archbishop of Canterbury (Bronwyn Henderson) — he has returned to Edward's side and a place of immense influence.
Unfortunately for Edward and him, Gaveston's return brings up a previously dormant problem in the court — Edward and Gaveston are blatantly in love and do not attempt to hide it. Their very public displays of affection swiftly stir up resentment and anger amongst the scheming noblemen — as well as Edward's wife — and this anger leads to very open aggression towards the King.
Riley Bugaresti, who plays Edward, greatly succeeds in making the audience pity his character. Edward is clearly not cut out to be King. He is meek and afraid to assert his power over those who challenge him. All that he really wants is Gaveston, regardless of the complications that their relationship might cause. Bugaresti captures this state marvelously, especially in moments where the King is being verbally attacked. His body movements, expressions and voice subtly convey the whole tempest of emotions going through his head, in a way that inspires great empathy. However, his performance falls a bit short in the moments of desperation and suffering. Especially when in the context of Gaveston, there were moments where Edward's prostrate monologues became overly hyperbolic to the point of comedic. There was one case in particular towards the end of the play where he effectively “gollumed” while trying to decide whether or not to give up the crown. It came across as funny, but the way that it was written and the context seemed as though they were intended to be tragic. These moments were few and only somewhat marred an otherwise solid performance.
Daniel Curalli impressively commanded every scene that he was in. His looming presence and somewhat slippery manner made him an enigmatic and wholly fascinating character to witness come alive onstage. Curalli really captured the dark, complex and maturer nature of his character — one who understands the nefarious natures of his adversaries much better than his lover does. Whereas a lot of the characters came across as somewhat simple in their motivations, Galveston is always concealing a few layers in a past that is never fully spelled out. It is this that makes him so captivating.
The set is minimalist, but never feels lacking, with only two benches and a throne for furniture, and a few other props when necessary. As a result, it falls squarely on the shoulders of the costume department to carry the desired setting and it unfortunately doesn't really succeed. The program tells the audience that Edward II has been supplanted into the 1930s because of the connection it draws to Edward XIII as well as the inevitable rise of fascism that it draws connections to. The latter is by far the more compelling connection drawn between the two eras, but beyond that, the only traces of this setting can be found in the pistols being brandished and the odd dress with the distinct flapper style. Otherwise, the clothes only slightly resemble their intended aim and instead, they go for more of an abstract quality. The extent of this is patterns sewn onto the jackets and dresses of characters, some of which seem to carry meaning, while others do not. If the play had made its intentions to fit within a certain timeframe so clear, these would not have felt so out of place and could be appreciated as the often impressive works that they are, but in this context, they just do not quite fit.
Edward II is a fantastic play and in spite of a few flaws, it is an impressive performance. This is the chance to see a forgotten work that deals with themes of homosexuality in a more mature way than many contemporary narratives, put on by a talented cast and crew. It is an epic and entertaining story which is certainly worth great attention.
Edward II will be performing at the Chan Centre until October 15.
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