Splendid Attempt At ‘St. Joan’

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31096, 27 June 1966, Page 14

Splendid Attempt At ‘St. Joan’

Not many amateur societies could have staged such an accomplished production of Bernard Shaw’s “St Joan” as the one offered on Saturday night as the Canterbury Repertory Society’s 200th subscription production. The society has gathered together if not a galaxy, at least a milky way of talents both on stage and back stage which augur well for any future development towards professional theatre.

The reasons for choosing this play are obvious: it was written about the time Repertory began in Christchurch; it is a costume play which involves many people; and it is a timely study of innocence crushed by forces apparently beyond anyone’s control—the forces which always kill what they fail to understand, or what they fear.

Unfortunately, however, the virulent intellect of the playwright so dominates the play that only a superb production can control its conflicting ingredients. This production does not in this respect quite measure up. In the first scene, for example, instead of concentrating on Joan’s infectious, childlike faith (she had her back to us for half the scene) the production allowed Baudricourt and his steward to posture and clown. To play “St. Joan” successfully the cast must act as though Shaw’s entertaining but irrelevant witticisms are not there.

Judie Douglass made a well-scrubbed, peasant St Joan; she said her lines convincingly, hut as one expected them to be said. A revival of a familiar play might be expected to show more signs of reinterpretation, freshness, new insight With her lightish voice, Miss Douglass was always pleasing, but never inspiring. Pat Smythe’s Inquisitor, on the other hand, was a revelation of what an intelligent exciting voice can do, even with Shaw’s least viable lines. His speeches had passion, compassion, ruthlessness, self-in-terest, wit and, at the end, cynicism all held in a remarkable balance. The rest of the cast all showed evidence of careful study. Selwyn Hamblett cleverly suggested the conflict in

the Archbishop between his habit and his heart; Alex Lojkine quickly established the turbulent Chamberlain; Lionel Rogers made an engaging if not quite dynamic enough Dunois; and Mervyn Glue gave a controlled and somewhat moving performance as the bigoted Chaplain. Gerry Orchard was appropriately spineless, but needed to be more likeable, and needed to straighten his spine a little after the Coronation —another example of Shaw’s comic creation taking control. As the Earl of Warwick, Gerald Lascelles was superbly casual, but often too slow and thereby missing the cruelty and panic under the urbane veneer.

Cauchon (Joe Waller) seemed nervous. At his best, his bitter attitude contrasted well with the warmth and innocent fervour of Ladvenu, played sincerely by Richard Harvest. Harold Pointer underplayed delightfully his scene as the soldier on leave from Hell.

John Kim, the producer, gave the play considerable impetus with his use of Maurice Askew’s stark, open setting, and his use of an impressive soundtrack. There were some clumsy moves around the stairs, however; one might have looked for more realistic movement sometimes—a milling throneroom instead of a statuesque one for example. And too many important lines were given upstage, or given by characters too far back. The end of Scene 5 lost its punch because of this.

Costumes were mostly striking, but there were signs that the stage and not the characters were being dressed: the colourful assessors were a case in point. And can anything be done about Joan’s podgy Scene 2 costume—a cross between a sleeping bag and an Emma Peel glossy leather outfit? Those who are familiar with “St Joan” will have memories pleasantly revived rather than have new ones created. The play flutters gently in a tantalising breeze when it might have been strung out in the gale of emotion and ideas which can transform Shaw’s talk into tingling action. A splendid try, then, but not quite good enough. —P.R.S.