Greenwich Theatre – until 25 May
Reviewed by Claire Roderick
4****
Oscar Wilde gets the Lazarus treatment in this sumptuously stylish and intense production of Salomé. Wilde’s controversial take on the story of the death of John the Baptist (Jokanaan) gives Salome more agency than the Bible, with her own lust and desire being as destructive as her stepfather/uncle Herod’s.
Director and designer Ricky Dukes manages to make his minimalist set as opulent as possible through liberal coats of gold paint and scores of gold balloons in the side seating areas that bob constantly in a sparkling shimmer as if those seats were filled with bejewelled nobles and courtiers basking in the golden aura of their tetrarch. Hector Murray’s lighting design and Will Thompson’s sound design are phenomenal, elevating the tense and erotically brooding atmosphere. An interval is introduced to the one act play, with the first part building up to Salomé agreeing to dance for Herod, and the short second act the dance and the aftermath. Although the play is all about the male gaze and objectification, this is Oscar Wilde, and his language is poetic and repetitive. The script is full of similes, mostly about the moon, but has enough witty self-knowledge to have Herodias declare in frustration that “The moon is just the moon!” and Herod warn about seeking symbolism in everything, before continuing to do exactly that.
This production is set in 2019, which doesn’t really affect much apart from modern dress and a few sweary insertions from Herod and Salomé in times of anger or frustration. Salomé is a prince in this production, with Bailey Pilbeam portraying him as an entitled and manipulative man-child who knows exactly how to get what he wants, flirting with anybody to get his own way and completely floored by Jokanaan’s rejection. The dance of the seven veils becomes a slow, languorous striptease as Pilbeam removes his white suit, to Herod’s very obvious enjoyment. Jamal Renaldo is earthy and powerful as the prophet Jokanaan. Jamie O’Neill’s Herod is a wonderfully flawed man in an intense but funny performance cycling between arrogance, fear of losing his power and gazing lustfully at his nephew without missing a beat. His chemistry with the magnetic Annemarie Anang is deliciously toxic, as they try to hide their burning resentment behind false smiles as they entertain their Roman guests, who could ensure their power is crushed by Caesar at any moment. The rest of the cast don’t have much to do after the initial set up of the plot, but their reactions to what unfolds before them are perfectly judged.