Iolanthe

Sunday, 20 September 2009

Introducing a lush and sparkling score by Arthur Sullivan tripping hither into inspirations from Wagner’s Ring Cycle and Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, Iolanthe is a fanciful fairy dust concoction which cleverly pokes fun at the House of Lords, the practice of law and the British Government of the day.

Containing some of WS Gilbert’s cleverest and most slyly satirical lyrics, this staging by the Gilbert & Sullivan Society of WA was a pure delight to behold and fun from start to finish.

Strephon, a golden voiced and handsome Arcadian shepherd (cherubically cheeky Chris D. Lewis) is in love with a ward of the court, Phyllis (Katya Webb, purloining her brunette beauty from a recent turn in Bizet’s tragedy Pearlfishers into this comely comedy). It seems however, that the entire House of Lords is similarly smitten with the winsome shepherdess, and the Lord Chancellor (an astonishingly spry Conrad Crisafulli in a role perfectly matched to his talents) would rather his ward choose a husband with some blue blood aristocratic standing.

But Strephon is no ordinary shepherd, his mother is the immortal fairy Iolanthe, recently welcomed back to the fairy court at the pleading of her fellow fey. Banished 25 years earlier for having the temerity to marry a mortal, she looks to be a girl of 17 and her grown son is a fairy from the waist up and mortal from the waist down (ahh, the number of panto nudge-nudge-winks when this was recited…!)

Phyllis and the House of Lords catch sight of Strephon confiding in his youthful mother about the Lord Chancellor’s refusal to allow Phyllis to marry him, and jump to entirely the wrong conclusions. Phyllis angrily rejects his explanation, and hurt, announces she’ll marry one of the Lords instead (“…and I don’t care which!”) The fairies try to help but end up being patronized by the Lords who think they are a bunch of silly schoolgirls. Offended, the Fairy Queen casts a spell making Strephon a Member of Parliament with the influence to pass any bill he chooses.

Nevertheless, Strephon still pines for Phyllis; she’s frustrated as she doesn’t want to marry a Peer (Strephon seems to be a damn good kisser, I can’t fault her reasoning); the Peers are unhappy at being shown up as generally useless; and in the midst of all this the fairies realize that they have all fallen in love with the mortals and stand to suffer a death sentence at the wand of their very own queen!

But the reveal that Strephon is half fairy (nudge-nudge-wink!) and also the son of the Lord Chancellor proceeds to the inevitable happy conclusion as fairy law is tweaked to accommodate a round of marriages (the Queen herself is rescued from the new decree by Royal Guard Private Willis who magically sprouts a pair of the cutest red wings to match his uniform). Soon they may, off and away, to all live harmoniously ever after.

The Playhouse accommodated a beautiful set resplendent with copper tones and soft greens, and suggestive but recognizable backgrounds to transport the audience from country glades to Westminster streets, elegantly supported by Ian Boase’s soft washed lighting and gorgeous costuming by Penny Walker.

The musical direction by Daniel Masmanian was joyous and appealing, and director John Milson retained the heart of Gilbert & Sullivan but still made the piece enjoyable and entertaining for a 21st century audience.

To wit, one of G&S's prettiest and most popular operettas.