Displaying items by tag: Murder in the Cathedral

I arrived at City Lit Theater’s MURDER IN THE CATHEDRAL expecting a heavy, serious, doubtless thought-provoking but rather intimidating major work of literature. By the end of the performance, I wanted to rush out, buy the book and read it immediately. Any production that accomplishes this in three hours must be called a success!

At its most basic level T.S. Eliot’s play is a meditation on Christian martyrdom in a time of great political stress. The quotation from Alexai Navalny, “I’m on the very blackest part of the blacklist,” on the program’s front-page links this theme directly to the times we live in today.  The script was almost entirely in verse (how else would the Nobel Prize-winning poet write a play?) and at many points the extended alliteration and vivacious rhyme remind one of “Skimbleshanks, the Railway Cat,” or “Macavity’s a Mystery Cat, he’s called the Hidden Paw,” and the other wonderful TS Eliot poems that gave us the lyrics to Cats.  

Production operated from many levels. Patti Roeder designed costumes ranging from modern business suits to carefully constructed evocations of medieval garb. The various social classes and estates were delineated, with the Chorus [Sally Olson, Isabel Schmitz, Katarina Bakas, Kara Chandler] representing the working poor of Canterbury while the rich and politically powerful barons were embodied in the Tempters [Sean Harklerode, Varris Holmes, Robert Howard], who doubled as Knights with Fourth Knight Zach Kunde, who also played Messenger.  The Priests of the Cathedral were played by John Blick, Stephen Fedo, and Joel Thompson. As a whole the entire cast was splendid and Paul Chakrin’s fight choreography gave us a bloodcurdling assassination.

Which brings us to Becket himself, masterfully played by James Sparling and appareled with consummate attention to detail. I have no idea what vestments a Roman Catholic archbishop of the 12th Century wore or how his acolytes invested him. I do know what a present-day Anglo-Catholic priest wears and how she vests herself, and costume director Patti Roeder nailed it precisely.

The stage was in the sanctuary of Edgewater Presbyterian Church, and Director [and outgoing Producer and Artistic Director] Terry McCabe presented the play in the (semi) round. The central aisle leading to the stage area in front of an altar table and pulpit was, of course, singularly appropriate, and Mike McShane’s lighting through the stained glass behind the altar had a great effect.  But the most amazing contribution was that of composer Phillip Seward, who set the verses of the four-member chorus (think Greek chorus, not Chorus Line) to haunting music in his world-premiere score.

 The four singer / actresses articulated Eliot’s lines, now lyrics, with great clarity and their four-part harmony was flawless.  As in a Greek play, these chorus members were not characterized in the script, yet their acting ability, as well as subtle cues from their costumes, allowed me to imagine the sort of women they were “in real life” as they went about their arduous daily rounds in the 12th Century city of Canterbury.

The role of the chorus is to propel the plot, and the music – pianist Jacob Adams punctuated by hammered chimes – intensified that effect.  The first act, while intellectually heavy, sped by, and the composer closed with an allusion to a somber, minor key Advent hymn, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” – a falling melody line that carries the lyric, “and ransom captive Israel” – a ransom of martyrs’ blood.  

Dialect coach Carrie Hardin’s work with the cast is clearly evident in the British r-lessness, but for the first minutes I wished she’d paid more attention to de-nasalizing the a’s.  However, I soon stopped noticing this. I was particularly intrigued by the choice to portray Becket’s internal conflict as a dialog alternating his middle-class British accent with a working class, almost Cockney style of speech.  

All the performances were strong, but I was particularly impressed with Sparling somehow managing to make Becket not only compelling but also, for me at least, annoying.  Historically, Becket’s assassination was spurred when King Henry II flew into a temper and shouted, “Will no-one rid me of this meddlesome priest?!”  Four of his loyalists took him literally, traveled to Canterbury and, indeed, murdered Becket there in the Cathedral.  How seriously Henry actually meant the comment is unknowable, but I found myself empathizing with his exasperation. 

This reviewer, as it happens, spent 8th grade in England and this period of English history was on that year’s curriculum.  Knowing a bit about the politics of that time was helpful in my understanding the speeches of the first act.  For anyone lacking a middle school level of familiarity with 12^th Century English history, this Wikipedia article covers what Mr. Dowthwaite told us in class.  

Highly recommended!

Playing through June 16 at City Lit Theater.

All my gratitude to Elizabeth Vann for her invaluable assistance in composing this review.