Be Still My Beating Heart

The descriptor ‘little performed’, when applied to a piece of theatre, is a double-edged sword: on the one hand, the idea of a play returning to a London stage after an absence of 5, 10, 20 years can be enough to get any number of culture vultures clamoring for a seat; on the other, it begs the question why? Why has the play fallen off the radar? And what does that mean for those trying to bring it back? It is these questions I have in mind when visiting the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse, whose latest production The Broken Heart has rarely been performed on stage.

A Caroline-era tragedy of epic proportions by playwright John Ford, best known for his much more popular work ‘Tis Pity She’s A Whore, The Broken Heart is a play of love and loss, set among the glory of ancient Sparta. Its generous cast means that the script is bursting at the seams with eloquent soliloquies and poetic dialogues, whilst the speed with which the play hurtles towards its dramatic conclusion make it a difficult one to work with. Therefore, I must doff my cap at director Caroline Steinbeis, who has tried as hard as she could to bring the disparate elements of the production together; with some parts soaring to emotional heights and others simply falling flat, The Broken Heart is a mixed bag.

The plot centres around Ogilus, a Spartan who has promised himself to the fair Penthea. Sadly, Penthea is trapped in Athens, after being forced into a tactical marriage to Bassanes by her brother Ithocles. The only problem is that Bassanes is manically jealous, possessive of Penthea to the point of near-torture, shielding her from the outside world. Things are complicated when Princess Calantha falls in love with Ithocles, despite Prince Nearchus already having demanded her for a wife. Oh, and there’s also a side-plot involving Oglius’ sister Euphranea and her lover Prophilus. With such a complex, twisting plot, it is a surprise than anyone could make any sense from the play; to Ford’s credit, each character is a complex, multi-layer creation, but for the audience to truly appreciate the thought with which the plot has been crafted, the play would easily need to be twice the length. No mean feat when the runtime is already close to three hours.

The cast on the whole do an impressive job, delivering their lines with warmth and vigor. While no single actor stood out as particularly weak, particular congratulations should go to Sarah MacRae and Brian Ferguson. As Princess Calantha, MacRae is exceptional, alternating between warm pathos and icy humour; as those she love being to die, the play reached a hysterical apex, with MacRae lending an astonishing physicality to her role that is horrifically disturbing. Meanwhile, Ferguson Scottish brogue imbues his performance of Ogilus with a morose sadness that seems to leak out of evey pore; his love stolen, locked away by a horrific monster of a man, Ogilus has become a man without hope, a fact that helps explain his grotesque actions at the end of the play. ‘Souls sunk in shadows are never without them’, Ogilus sighs, with Ferguson’s delivery making such lines seem profound without ever tipping over into portentousness.

The staging, as you would expect from the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse, is excellent, with the candles helping create an atmosphere of beautiful tension; the costumes are largely standard for such plays, with the exception of the role of Penthea, for which Amy Morgan is ensconced in a literal cage of a dress, its metal struts ending in a lethal spiked collar - repression manifest as flesh.

While The Broken Heart is certainly enjoyable, there is a reason as to why some plays are little-seen. Caroline Steinbeis has done well with this version, but ultimately she is right in describing it as ‘a thinker’s play’ - the plot line is too convoluted, the characters too numerous, for things to connect on a purely visceral level. For a play so bloody, it seems surprising that it comes across as bloodless.

The Broken Heart runs at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse until 18th April 2015 – tickets available online