Arkia Ashraf, Angeline Penrith, Rebecca Massey, Marco Chiappi and Emily Goddard. Photo: Teniola Komolafe
Light Shining in Buckinghamshire is a two-hour history lesson. It will appeal to those minutely interested in the events of England’s Civil War, from the years 1642 to 1649. The ensemble cast deliver their lines perfectly, and with passion.
The first part of the lesson, indicated by the sign at the back of Michael Hankin’s set is ‘1642: Civil War Begins’. It starts with the redoubtable Rebecca Massey, having a conversation with God about her sinfulness. Outpouring of sinful doings was more prevalent back then, so there are few sniggers to be had about the poor woman’s worries about going to Hell for unrequited lust. Then we have Brendon McClelland as a recruiter for the army of ‘saints’, who will band together to rid England of the King. (Charles I, who is as famous for being beheaded as his Tudor predecessors were for beheading others.) The King, we learn, like all nobles and elites in England are ‘Normans’ (filthy invaders who took over England’s wealth in 1066) and reduced the decent Saxons (aka ‘saints’) to poverty. Englishmen should fight to reclaim their birthright. And by the way, killing the King will pave the way for Christ returning to Earth and 1000 years of bliss. That’s the theme of the recruitment drive and an impassioned McClelland makes his points well. That they sound like any incitement to war on the grounds of religion is no doubt one of the points that the playwright Caryl Churchill, intends to make. (What’s that I hear you say? ‘Religion is the sigh of the oppressed masses; the opiate?’)
This history lesson, illustrating the terrible lot of the common man and his lot, last about 30 minutes. There’s a lot more to come.
Lesson 2 is ‘1647: the Putney Debates’. In a very thin nutshell, these could be summarised as a series of discussions between the increasingly dominant New Model Army and the ‘Diggers’ and ‘Levellers’ concerning the makeup of a new constitution for Britain. Having seized London from its opponents, the army set up its HQ at Putney (then in ye olde county of Surrey). On stage we meet Oliver Cromwell (Marco Chiappi), General Henry Ireton (McClelland), Cromwell’s son-in-law – two gents interested in keeping land and property rights just the way they have always been, thanks very much, and not at all too keen on allowing the common man, the ‘saints’ who joined the army to overthrow the monarchy, any more say in the running of their country than they had before. Opposing them are the Diggers, Levellers and Agitators, played variously and with conviction by Rashidi Edward, Arkia Ashraf, Massey, Angeline Penrith, Sandy Greenwood et al (all playing menfolk of course, because it is 1647 and women weren’t allowed a voice). These radicals wanted a constitution based upon ‘one man, one vote’, biennial Parliaments and a re-organisation of parliamentary consitutuencies. A fair go, as it were. Or anarchy, depending on one’s position in society.
Back in the day, these debates lasted for August to November. On stage they last half an hour. And unless you are all over this period of English history, it may be hard to keep up/sustain interest. As Chiappi’s Cromwell notes: ‘Let us not spend so much time in debate.’
I could not agree more.
We’re more than an hour in now and Lesson 3 begins: ‘1649: After Beheading the King’. And guess what? The poor are still poor, still oppressed, still hungry, still disenfranchised. Whatever promises were made – one of the big ones was the Second Coming of Christ – are yet to be realised. There is much wailing, some weeping, but mainly simmering impotent anger and not much hope of change. Thomas Briggs (Ashraf again), one of the soldier saints is thoroughly disillusioned. ‘The army is as much a tyrant as the King was.’ And, nearly 400 years on, the audience will not be surprised.
It is during this lesson that Chiappi re-appears as a vendor of meat and poultry, and delivers a spirited diatribe about the rich being too fat already, and no they can’t buy any of his capons. It’s blackly comic. A nice change of mood. It deserved a cheer.
But then it’s back to misery. The rich keep the riches (and the property); the new class of landowners use land to make money, not to feed people; one poor man tells us how his stomach has adapted to his diet of grass and nettles; and it won’t be long before Charles II is crowned King.
Lesson 4, much shorter, is ‘1650: Christ on Earth’. Except no one knows where he is. He hasn’t made a difference yet.
Churchill’s play was written in 1976; (I was surprised, I thought it must have been written as a protest against Thatcher’s Britain). As noted, the cast cannot be faulted. The language is often brilliant, and the ideas tumble forth. Dense layer upon dense layer. To call Light Shining in Buckingshire verbose is an understatement. It is a play about prayer, debate, ecstatic meetings and a revolution that never happened. Or hasn’t happened yet. Given the current state of the planet it may one day. Although this play is not the catalyst to start one.
As befits the religious overtones, there is some truly beautiful ensemble singing. All credit to musicians Alyx Dennison (also sound designer and composer) and Marcus Whale. Damien Cooper’s lighting is evocative. The play is directed by Eamon Flack and Hannah Goodwin. It is running in rep with Wayside Bride until 29 May.
Prices from $35 (Student Saver) through to $70.
www.belvoir.com.au
