Janet McTeer as Mary, Queen of Scots in 'Mary Stuart' / Photo by Joan Marcus
Two women, locked in a battle for power. One is widely regarded as a sexless, emotional robot who substitutes schemes and plots for love and sex. The other has left a trail of messy personal scandals and views herself as a maverick leader. Was I the only one who couldn’t get Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin out of my head during Mary Stuart?
The parallels are fairly obvious in this striking new reworking of Schiller’s drama. There’s Mary (Janet McTeer), a provocative woman unable or unwilling to offer a single reason other than her bloodlines as to why she should replace Elizabeth as queen of England. But the men falling under her spell are blinded to the unsuitability of installing on the throne of England a woman who married her husband’s murderer. The Earl of Leicester (John Benjamin Hickey) is so bewitched by her that he almost ruins his lucrative relationship with Elizabeth. Mortimer (Chandler Williams) is so determined to be Mary’s sole savior that he not only brainstorms half-baked escape plans, he tries to rape her in prison. When Mary wonders aloud why she’s doomed to incite madness in everyone around her, she’s not speaking hyperbolically.
But while Mary whiles away her prison time fending off her male admirers and trying to convince everyone that she doesn’t pose a threat to England, the brilliant Elizabeth is made to feel very, very dowdy. Weighed down by her unflattering hairstyle and voluminous gowns, Harriet Walters makes a very dry, very acerbic queen, aghast at what a commotion Mary is capable of making, even from her prison cell. Her loyal advisers have all lost their heads over Mary in one way or another, and the disciplined and pragmatic Elizabeth is at a loss to explain why. But when she and Mary finally meet face-to-face in an historically inaccurate but theatrically thrilling scene, the arrogant and elitist Elizabeth finds herself crushed by the sheer force of Mary’s larger-than-life personality.
Of course, as most people know, Elizabeth got the last laugh eventually. And though the play can be a bit of an expository bore (we get it, Catholicism and Protestantism do not mix), the production’s creative team has pulled out all the stops to keep attention focused. In addition to the pyrotechnics that McTeer and Walters bring to their roles—I’ll never forget McTeer’s sudden bursts of temper—lighting designer Hugh Vanstone transforms Anthony Ward’s simple, brick-wall set with a striking series of shadows and spotlights, creating a world that alternates as much between stark and sensual as Elizabeth and Mary do.
But what Mary Stuart so brilliantly exploits is the ways in which the brief entanglement between these two women has echoed through history. Elizabeth is still as fawned over today as she was then—with the sole exception of Mary Stuart’s execution. And Mary’s death transformed a sensualist into a Catholic martyr. Ultimately, Mary Stuart is proof once again that beauty will inevitably triumph over brains. Watch your back in 2012, Hillary.
Through Aug. 16. 235 W. 44th St. (betw. 8th & 9th Aves.), 212-239-6200. $64-$116.50.
The parallels are fairly obvious in this striking new reworking of Schiller’s drama. There’s Mary (Janet McTeer), a provocative woman unable or unwilling to offer a single reason other than her bloodlines as to why she should replace Elizabeth as queen of England. But the men falling under her spell are blinded to the unsuitability of installing on the throne of England a woman who married her husband’s murderer. The Earl of Leicester (John Benjamin Hickey) is so bewitched by her that he almost ruins his lucrative relationship with Elizabeth. Mortimer (Chandler Williams) is so determined to be Mary’s sole savior that he not only brainstorms half-baked escape plans, he tries to rape her in prison. When Mary wonders aloud why she’s doomed to incite madness in everyone around her, she’s not speaking hyperbolically.
But while Mary whiles away her prison time fending off her male admirers and trying to convince everyone that she doesn’t pose a threat to England, the brilliant Elizabeth is made to feel very, very dowdy. Weighed down by her unflattering hairstyle and voluminous gowns, Harriet Walters makes a very dry, very acerbic queen, aghast at what a commotion Mary is capable of making, even from her prison cell. Her loyal advisers have all lost their heads over Mary in one way or another, and the disciplined and pragmatic Elizabeth is at a loss to explain why. But when she and Mary finally meet face-to-face in an historically inaccurate but theatrically thrilling scene, the arrogant and elitist Elizabeth finds herself crushed by the sheer force of Mary’s larger-than-life personality.
Of course, as most people know, Elizabeth got the last laugh eventually. And though the play can be a bit of an expository bore (we get it, Catholicism and Protestantism do not mix), the production’s creative team has pulled out all the stops to keep attention focused. In addition to the pyrotechnics that McTeer and Walters bring to their roles—I’ll never forget McTeer’s sudden bursts of temper—lighting designer Hugh Vanstone transforms Anthony Ward’s simple, brick-wall set with a striking series of shadows and spotlights, creating a world that alternates as much between stark and sensual as Elizabeth and Mary do.
But what Mary Stuart so brilliantly exploits is the ways in which the brief entanglement between these two women has echoed through history. Elizabeth is still as fawned over today as she was then—with the sole exception of Mary Stuart’s execution. And Mary’s death transformed a sensualist into a Catholic martyr. Ultimately, Mary Stuart is proof once again that beauty will inevitably triumph over brains. Watch your back in 2012, Hillary.
Through Aug. 16. 235 W. 44th St. (betw. 8th & 9th Aves.), 212-239-6200. $64-$116.50.
