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Cut-throat competition is just that in Jacobean revenge tragedy, and John Webster's The White Devil, first performed in 1612, is robustly full of murder most foul.
Complete with cut throats. Along with lashings of lust, adultery, poison, corruption, politics and revenge.
There's never a dull moment, and never one that is less than spectacular in this production directed by Gale Edwards.
It showcases some of our finest acting talents: Angie Milliken, Jeremy Sims, Hugo Weaving, John Gaden, Philip Quast, Paula Arundell, William Zappa, Matthew Newton and Julia Blake, all in this production.
It doesn't get much better than that.
A huge portrait of Weaving as the Duke of Brachiano, hanging on a deep blue wall, dominates Brian Thomson's imposing and elegant set as the play begins, but red -- as in blood-red -- is the linking theme.
Milliken's Vittoria, the adulterous wife, is the harlot in scarlet (Roger Kirk takes the credit for the breathtaking costumes); Gaden's pious Cardinal rants and rages in red; Brachiano wears his lovers' colours; and Trudy Dalgleish's clever lighting bathes certain scenes with a hellish glow.
Revenge, ambition and treachery are promised from the outset as Count Lodovico (Zappa) is flung out of Rome, exiled on charges of murder and debauchery (but it's not fair, of course -- he's craving our sympathy).
Inside the city walls, Brachiano has the hots for Vittoria, and neither is about to let a couple of spouses stand in the way. Camillo and Isabella are soon disposed of, but not before Jeanette Cronin puts up a great performance as Brachiano's wronged wife -- all the more remarkable, given that Cronin had taken on the role that afternoon as a last-minute replacement for an ill Heather Mitchell.
Sims is wonderful as the self-serving Flamineo, brother of Vittoria and secretary-cum-pimp to Brachiano, ducking, weaving and murdering his way to the top.
Weaving, too, is all an arrogant, good-looking, swashbuckling, sex-driven member of the aristocracy should be.
And Milliken? She is quite simply superb -- in complete command, and never better than in the courtroom scene where, resplendent in burnished gold satin, she imperiously defies and verbally defeats the misogynistic court before being banished to a prison for "penitent whores''.
The 17th century really wasn't terrific for women, liberated or otherwise. And that only takes you up to the interval; things get incredibly
nasty later!
There are no weak links in this fantastic cast, the production is a visual feast, and Edwards keeps the tension taut and terrific.
If you want the cut and thrust of politics, blood, gore and sex -- it's all here.
