Patrick Carnegy

The jam factory is no more. In one of the great theatrical transformations of our day, the RSC has unveiled its modernisation of Elizabeth Scott’s unloved theatre of 1932; unloved for its ungainly brick bulk on the Avon riverside but no less for the distance of its seating from the proscenium stage. There was much to be said for the earlier proposal of simply razing the building to the ground and starting afresh. What has actually happened is a classic British compromise whereby the best of the old has been spliced together with what is hopefully the best of the new. The jam factory is no more.

Antony and Cleopatra Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in rep until 28 August In this deplorable new production, it is not just the great general Antony who’s taken leave of his senses but Michael Boyd, its director and generalissimo of the RSC, too. In prospect, the casting of the diminutive character actor Kathryn Hunter as the serpent and seductress of Old Nile always seemed weird, if not actually crazy. In practice, it is an unmitigated disaster. It is doubtless some kind of record that Hunter is playing both the Fool in Lear and Cleopatra in the same season. But this is a foolishness too far, and it does not stop there. Hunter is an accomplished director and an actor of prodigious, protean skills.

Romeo and Juliet Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in rep until 27 August Rupert Goold’s new staging of Romeo and Juliet will rocket you into a state of renewed excitement with the play. He returns to the RSC for the first time since conjuring Patrick Stewart as a magus of the frozen north in The Tempest (2006). Ever inventive as a directorial travel agent, Goold now transports the star-crossed lovers from the land where the lemon trees blossom into a Stygian underworld, illuminated by flickering flames, spurts of steam and sudden pyrotechnic eruptions. Why, this is hell, nor are the lovers out of it.

King Lear Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in rep until 26 August At the prospect of every fresh attempt on the summit that is King Lear, one’s heart begins to sink — the bleak, bleak vision, the convoluted subplottings of son against sibling and father, of sister against sister, the merciless length of the play. It seems only yesterday that Ian McKellen triumphed in Trevor Nunn’s Stratford staging. But here’s the RSC with a new production, this time with Greg Hicks in the title role. For him it’s the culmination of a run of major roles in which his wiry physique and nervous intensity have always been memorable. Caesar and Leontes suited him less well than Coriolanus, but it’s as Lear that he’s delivering the performance of a lifetime.

Arabian Nights Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon The RSC’s Christmas show is a welcome revival by Dominic Cooke of his adaptation of Arabian Nights, first staged with great success at the Young Vic in 1998. This is also the first ‘family show’ in the Courtyard, and it was good there were so many children there to enjoy it on the opening night. The stories told by the beautiful Shahrazad to the King in hope of postponing her post-wedding-night execution are obscure in origin. But even the unexpurgated versions by Sir Richard (‘dirty dick’) Burton (16 volumes, 1885–88) run to no more than about 260 tales and not the thousand-and-one that legend would have us believe.

Twelfth Night Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon It’s a welcome refreshment after the RSC’s recent dramatisations of hard drinking and mass starvation in Russia to be landed on the sun-soaked coast of Mediterranean Illyria, and especially so in the company of a new and exquisitely beguiling Viola. Director Gregory Doran has been to much scholarly trouble in updating Shakespeare’s pirate-infested Illyria to Byron’s Albania. There, when visiting the court of a notorious warlord, Byron rhapsodised ‘The Turk, the Greek, the Albanian and the Moor/ Here mingled in their many-hued array’. Doubtless there were atrocities enough around the corner, but Doran has always been strong on devising exotic Mediterranean settings for Shakespeare’s comedies.

Julius Caesar Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon Romulus and Remus, at least in the flesh, aren’t usually numbered among the dramatis personae of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. The famous sculpture of the she-wolf suckling Rome’s founding twins is a not unfamilar sight in modern productions. It’s also favoured by Lucy Bailey as an iconic image for launching her terrific directorial debut for the RSC. As the audience assembles, the lupine sculpture presides over two athletic young men in grubby loincloths wrestling together: at first it is playfully, then ever more violently. Following a crescendo of grunts and shrieks, the bloody corpse of Remus is left upon the stage, the lights go down and the play can begin.

As You Like It; The Winter’s Tale Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon Back in the rehearsal room for the first time since his triumphant Histories cycle, the RSC’s artistic director Michael Boyd whisks As You Like It far away from the Forest of Arden. Not a tree in sight, and does anyone give a twig? Yes, the play’s in part a satire on the Elizabethans’ taste for awful pastoral verse, but Boyd wisely sets it on a clinically bare stage, asking us to respond firstly to its Mozartean games on the universal joys and terrible deceptions of human passion. The courtly costumes (puritanical black with white ruffs) could be 17th-century Dutch, while in the ‘forest’ pretty well anything goes.

The Tempest Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon Othello Hackney Empire No accident, one guesses, that the RSC comes good in the new year with two of Shakespeare’s most racially sensitive plays in touring productions that, happily, are at once bold and deeply rewarding. ‘A Tempest roars out of Africa’, trumpeted the Telegraph’s headline to a preview of a production hailing from Cape Town’s famous Baxter Theatre. And the headline gets it right, for the identification of Prospero’s spirits with a dazzling conjuration of African tribal magic brings a buzz to the play that fits perfectly with Antony Sher’s terrific debut in the leading role.

Love’s Labour’s Lost Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon In Love’s Labour’s Lost Shakespeare uses the most transparent of silly plots as a pretext for pyrotechnics with the raw material of his craft. On a sudden whim, a king and three courtiers dedicate themselves to scholarship and celibacy. A princess and her companions arrive and duly scupper this plan. Diversions en route are afforded by a fantastical Spaniard, and a schoolmaster and curate who are living proof of the futility of the courtiers’ aspirations to academe. Much of this looks like parody of such contemporaries as John Florio, Thomas Nashe and Walter Ralegh, but it’s clear that Shakespeare’s also mocking his own facility.

Hamlet Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon Star casting at Stratford runs the risk of propelling a show into an orbit hard to track or make sense of. Such is inevitably the case with the casting of David Tennant as Hamlet. Director Gregory Doran apparently got the idea from the BBC’s Who Do You Think You Are? In quest of his bloodline, Tennant was visiting a church in Northern Ireland and casually picked up a skull from an excavation. ‘I saw your audition for Hamlet,’ ran Doran’s text message. Doubtless he’d also not forgotten that the play’s very first line just happens to be ‘Who’s there?’ — and the thing was settled.

The Taming of the Shrew; The Merchant of Venice Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon While the RSC’s Histories sequence is rightly grabbing critical and popular acclaim in London, what’s left for visitors to Stratford over the summer? To The Taming of the Shrew and The Merchant of Venice will shortly be added a revised revival of Gregory Doran’s Midsummer Night’s Dream from 2005, followed by Hamlet with David Tennant in August and Love’s Labour’s Lost in October. All this in the temporary Courtyard Theatre while the alarmingly ruinated fragments of the old theatre by the river await their transformation. There’s good news and bad in the season’s openings.

One of the few certainties about Henry V is that every performance is a political act, or will certainly be read as such. On BBC2’s Newsnight Review the other day, Michael Gove wondered whether there’d been a single production since Olivier’s triumphalist film of 1944 that hadn’t been anti-war, anti-patriotic and anti-heroic. Although that isn’t totally true (see Emma Smith’s superb 2002 CUP edition of the play), it’s near the mark. Famously, or perhaps infamously, Michael Bogdanov’s 1980s version had the English soldiers embark for France under a banner inscribed ‘F**k the Frogs’ and singing ‘’Ere we go, ’ere we go, ’ere we go again’.

Between the towering majesty of Greene King’s brewery and its bottling plant in Bury St Edmunds nestles the Georgian gem of the Theatre Royal. Built in 1819 by William Wilkins (architect of the National Gallery) and now reopening after a £5 million restoration, its survival is something of a miracle. From 1925 it was effectively swallowed by the brewery when it was used as a barrel store. Reclaimed in 1965, it remains the sole surviving working theatre from the Regency period.

Shakespeare, as we all know, served up English history as entertainment and instruction for the Elizabethans. Factual accuracy was subservient to a view of the jungle truths of sovereignty and political ambition that was as uncomfortable and relevant then as it remains today. The eight major Histories from Richard II to Richard III have been well served by the RSC in recent years. Its millennial sequence began with Samuel West in a wonderfully spare Richard II (directed by the much lamented Steven Pimlott) and concluded with the Henry VIs and Richard III, brilliantly directed by Michael Boyd. This latter tetralogy has become the foundation of the new sequence in the Courtyard Theatre.

The best way to get serious press coverage for your big show is to provoke the hacks by shutting them out from the first night. It’s a high-risk strategy but in the case of the now famous King Lear with Ian McKellen it’s worked a dream. The director Trevor Nunn and the RSC chief Michael Boyd took a fearful caning for slamming the door, but who were they to worry when the show was already sold out? They’re wily enough to know that good publicity has precious little to do with good reviews. If there wasn’t enough mileage in the sad story of the fall from her bike of Frances Barber (Goneril) which caused the closure, there was more than enough in Germaine Greer’s diatribe in the Guardian.