All Is But Fantasy review – Lady Macbeth, Juliet, and the girls rant as the witches let loose | platform

IIt’s tempting to say that by programming All Is But Fantasy the RSC has placed a grenade within its own repertoire, but that’s not entirely true. The Whitney White Theater Quartet doesn’t so much explode Shakespeare as excite it. The writer, composer and performer loves these plays and their music, but she also wants to ask difficult questions about them. Who is allowed to occupy space in these businesses? Who can perform in it? Why do so many of the ugly things in these plays continue to speak to us today?

To deal with these ideas, White takes on four of Shakespeare’s characters: Lady Macbeth, Emilia from Othello, Juliet, and Richard III. As a black woman, she wonders what parts of the canon are open to her, and tries out a series of the playwright’s women before claiming one of his male heroes. She is joined in her narration by a glorious, shape-shifting chorus of witches (Renee Lamb, Georgina Onora, and Temika Ramsay), a white male performer (Daniel Kreckler) who is a perpetual “it” for her, and a white character (Juliet Crosby) who represents the types of performers who will forever be Juliet.

The show takes a while to hit its stride. White begins by assuming the role of Lady Macbeth, a role that offers a lot of swagger. It recasts the character as a woman seeking her only path to power, before finding that power alone is not enough. But in the sequel, Emilia, White’s creations get real teeth. Here, feminist solidarity and white coalition are not co-opted, and we are challenged to consider the cost of reproducing violence against women on stage.

In Juliet, White reluctantly takes on a role she has never felt before, while at the same time questioning the version of youth, innocence, and star-crossed love that Romeo and Juliet has bequeathed to contemporary culture. Finally, after White got tired of all these women suffering and dying, he decided to play one of Shakespeare’s most evil men: Richard III. But is mocking the mantle of masculinity really the solution?

The buzz around these texts sometimes threatens to become repetitive, revolving around similar questions. But it’s also a problematic performance in itself, as the interrupting voices of the other performers add complexity. Then there is the music, which adds texture and emotion to what could otherwise be a dry intellectual exercise. Each character or play has its own musical signature – rock for Lady Macbeth, blues for Emilia – with hesitations and echoes across the four parts, all masterfully performed by the group and orchestra on stage.

White’s most convincing intervention is to turn the idea of ​​”immortality” on its head. We’re used to hearing that Shakespeare’s works transcend their time, but what does that say about ours? Or why, as White says, do we still hear stories of hot men killing hot women? Those looking for answers may feel frustrated. But White leaves her audience with a feeling of discomfort, perhaps something we can carry with us the next time we see one of these plays.