Miss Julie
August Strindberg
Directed by Jon Fentiman
East London Theatre Company
Courtyard Theatre
Star rating: 4
Directors, adapters and translators are inclined to pull Strindberg’s 1888 play in all directions in order to make it “topical” and I’ve seem all sorts of whacky versions. This account of it places it firmly in late nineteenth century Sweden and allows the play to declare its timelessness without gimmickry. It is, after all, a visceral presentation of the power struggle between a man and two women, which is as relevant now as it was 140 years ago.
There’s an authentic in-period, big house kitchen in the Courtyard’s quite spacious in-the-round (seating on all four sides) space in which we first see Kristin (Lia Goresh) working diligently until Jean (Chris Agha) her charismatic, plausible, ambitious, pragmatic fellow servant – and paramour – bursts in at the beginning of the play. Then Miss Julie, the daughter of the house (Maria Naterstad) arrives, apparently shallow, ruthlessly flirtatious, manipulative but vulnerable.
These three actors are skilfully directed to work intelligently together. Naterstad finds exactly the right level of confusion as she ricochets from being a troubled young women who wants a man to take charge of her life, and give her a purpose, to an imperious daughter of the landed gentry who expects servants to do as they’re told. She does playfulness, anguish, horror (especially at that awful, richly symbolic, moment in act two when Jean decides that she doesn’t need her tame finch), distress and sexual longing with real conviction. Why wasn’t I surprised to learn that she’s an East 15 graduate?
And Agha’s performance is splendid as he prowls round the space, saying anything to get what (he thinks) he wants from these two women. His voice, incidentally is richly edgy too – he sounds like a moderately educated, but bright servant who definitely comes from a different background from Miss Julie. Call it “estuary”, perhaps. It’s a perfect choice for this role. His heartbreak at the end of the play is devastatingly effective.
Lia Goresh’s role is smaller but she presents, as she must, an excellent contrast to Miss Julie. She makes Kristen into a moral compass at the heart of the play, sensible, firm but also desperately hurt as she sees her future slipping away.
Miss Julie was banned (good old Lord Chamberlain) in Britain for 50 years because it breaks through class barriers, and “worse”, presents graphic sex between Miss Julie and Jean – although the encounter is off stage. This version makes that coition as clear as possible by having a dishevelled Miss Julie come back on stage clutching her blood stained linen which she eventually puts in a receptacle where Kristen later finds it. It’s neatly done and succeeds it making the encounter feel sordidly transactional.
This is a worthy and thoughtful production of a fine play: well worth catching. And, incidentally, this was my first visit to Courtyard Theatre. Now that I know where it is, I’ll be back.
