Originally written in June 2015
“I love it!” The girl next to me said after curtain, and it was then that the cacophony of spiritual goosebumps, disappointment and self-doubt drowned the “but” that I had had on the tip of my tongue.
Design-wise,Wolf Hall Part One is superb. The chilling chiaroscuro lighting lends the production a darker and mythical character which traditionally would beckon equally dark storytelling. I was enthralled by the opening dance, and was expecting a history/political drama featuring a Thomas Cromwell cautiously treading towards power. However, instead of being pregnant with scheming and tension, it seems to me, at certain moments, a Tudor version of Gossip Girls.
Ben Miles as Thomas Cromwell indeed possesses a soldierly built and an unorthodox sense of humor;he is quick-witted and always the problem solver. Yet his shrewdness seems too natural—a gift from God rather than a lesson from life. Even though I laughed at his sarcasm and sympathized about his sorrow and anger, I failed to detect any traces of a backstory or hidden wounds. A glimmer of vulnerability can be captured early in the play as he stands powerlessly when Wolsey and later his family die. For the rest of the play, he is but another archetypal underdog.
Henry’s affair and the eventual marriage with Anne Boleyn is condensed in Part One, which demands Ms. Lydia Leonard to make an impressive portrayal in very limited stage time. She is fierce and spirited, and constantly reminds me of Katherina Minola inTaming of the Shrew, yet much to my dismay, instead of a cultivated and cunning court lady, she strikes me as a headstrong and jealous bully.Ironically, the triangle among Cromwell, Anne and Henry emphasized on the Wolf Hall poster is so blatantly neglected in the actual play. By the end of Part One, Henry and Anne’s relationship already starts deteriorating and the Seymours seem ready to take the court by storm, and yet the love and the political alliance between the royal couple are nothing but faint—did he really love her, and why? Anne and Cromwell’s encounters,which should have formed the momentum of the Tudor political and religious revolution, always seem purely antagonistic. Such condensation reduces the chances for principal characters to connect. Maybe Mr. Poulton decided to regurgitate these relationships in Part Two.
Aside from relentlessly criticizing Part One, I was pleasantly surprised at the end. Jane Seymour entered from stage left in a white wash light after Henry asked Cromwell what should he do (with Anne Boleyn and Rome), and Part One was concluded with this beautiful tableau of a new triangle. At that moment I was immediately awakened from my suspicion of a cliché ending: Thomas More’s execution. I almost regretted that I did not also purchase the ticket for Part Two.
However I appreciated the efforts to appeal to a live audience—especially for such a wordy play, I could not help feeling being underestimated as a serious theater goer. The exquisite design and the lowbrow jokes maintain, but do not gravitate.
