Directed by
Matthew Dunster

Designed by
Anna Fleischle

Composed by
Olly Fox

Choreographed by
Aline David

Cast
Ulysses
Jamie Ballard 

Paris
Ben Bishop

Andromache
Olivia Chaney

Hector
Christopher
Colquhoun

Agamemnon
Matthew Flynn

Achilles
Trystan Gravelle

Menelaus/
Alexander
Richard Hansell

Thersites
Paul Hunter

Aeneas
Fraser James

Pandarus
Matthew Kelly

Priam/Calchas
Séamus O’Neill

Cressida
Laura Pyper

Helen/
Cassandra
Ania Sowinski

Nestor
John Stahl

Troilus
Paul Stocker

Diomedes/
Helenus
Jay Taylor

Patroclus
Beru Tessema

Ajax
Chinna Wodu

In this, perhaps the most modern of his plays, Shakespeare tells two tales - one of love and one of war - both of which expose the worst of human frailties and follies. The short-lived romance of Troilus and Cressida is played out against the backdrop of the Battle of Troy. It is the seventh year and still the Greeks sit camped outside the city, inside the walls of which, the Trojans are plagued by the constant question, Is Helen worth it? Often described as one of Shakespeare’s ‘problem’ plays, it is problematic in both in its categorisation and in its content. Believed to have been written in 1602 and possibly heavily revised before its first publication in 1609, it has a helix structure that pulls together elements of his early comic writing and the later tragic subject matter, but is strictly speaking neither a comedy nor a tragedy. The characters are volatile and unpredictable, finding themselves embroiled in a kakfkaesque war that has no real purpose and no end in sight. It is at the director’s discretion to stage a piece of theatre that, by emphasising the humour of it all, invites us to laugh at ourselves, or to create a more meditative, philosophical atmosphere.
      Matthew Dunster’s well-staged production manages to do both. It starts slowly and picks up pace, shifting from a bawdy, unsubtle first half to a bleaker, enigmatic second half. Paul Stocker and Laura Pyper as Troilus and Cressida fall in love like gawky, rather irritating, teenagers. And you can’t quite take it seriously when he begs her to stay true to him prior to her transferral to the Greek camp. Though at first the performances seem to lack depth, what works very well in this coupling of actors is that as the play progresses, both reveal, delicately and convincingly, what her betrayal of him does to each of them. Pyper, with her purple streaked cropped hair, cheeky grin and charming Mancunian accent is not your typical Cressida, but by the end it was hard to conceive of any other. And in her infidelity, what is sometimes taken as Cressida’s indifference (with regard to Troilus), the actress here shows to be the result of confusion, insecurity and an attempt at self-protection – this is indicated particularly well in the famous ‘kissing’ scene in which her cheek serves to keep the men at bay.
      Elsewhere the undercurrents of ambiguity and contradiction are portrayed well in the performances of rivals, Achilles and Hector, two men who say one thing and mean another. In Trystan Gravelle we have a very post-modern, elusive Achilles. Always cloaked in a bath robe and masked in thick black eyeliner, the trauma of war seems to have effected some kind of mental breakdown in him. He shows nothing of the burning rage that he is famous for in the Iliad, but rather a disquieting passive aggression and a sad introversion. Christopher Colqhoun gives us a brilliantly vain and proud Hector, strutting around like a peacock with a large tattoo of a horse on his back (a bittersweet play on his horrible fate). Shakespeare’s pointed criticism of the vanity and self-consciousness of men at war is epitomised in Hector’s hypocrisy. He argues against the futility of the battle, urging his comrades to let Helen go - 'Tis mad idolatry To make the service greater than the god.’ – yet his ego is too great for him to honor his own words. Both actors bring to life the unsettling, paradoxical nature of the play: Achilles, who Gravelle sets up as uncompassionate and disengaged, immediately takes action after the murder of his cherished companion, and possible lover, Patroclus; and Hector, who seems to have a moral conscience and is adamant that no more Trojan blood be spilled, can’t help but get excited about challenging his rival to a dual.
      The constant voice of scorn is that of Thersites, wonderfully performed here by Jay Taylor, who received lots of laughs with his loathsome cynicism and his farcical vulnerability. His comic value is balanced by the pathos and melancholia in the angelic voice of Olivia Chaney who sings and plays the harmonium at intervals throughout the play. Dunster’s light, funny production brings together a strong cast who succeed in touching upon the manifold layers of this play. The set design and costumes draw us in to the realms of Ancient Greece, whilst the modern elements keep us in the 21st century, so that the timelessness of Shakespeare’s subject matter is made as poignant as ever.
Florence Mackenzie