Theater review: Cool Britannia: On ‘Coriolanus’, Tom Hiddleston, and fandom feels

How do you promote British culture to a younger audience? You deploy an army—in this case, Loki’s army. As far as campaigns go, "This is GREAT Britain" is off to a great start, kicking off its second Manila iteration with a weekend screening of the Donmar Warehouse’s 2013 staging of Coriolanus, starring everybody’s internet boyfriend and erstwhile Asgardian, Tom Hiddleston.

Do not mistake my irreverence for disdain: I say this with love. After thoroughly enjoying the Kenneth Branagh- and Alex Kingston-headlined "Macbeth" in last year’s British festival, I emailed the British Embassy, politely suggesting that they screen the rest of the National Theater Live offerings—including "Coriolanus", which by then had already sold out its entire run. I received an equally polite but fairly noncommittal response, and I wonder how many more of these consolatory emails were sent out before the embassy seriously considered screening the play, because it took eleven months before I found myself at a bigger, more crowded cinema, watching Tom Hiddleston breathe life—and, let’s admit it, a fair dose of charm and no small measure of sex appeal—into one of Shakespeare’s lesser known tragic heroes.

"Coriolanus" is arguably the most straightforward of Shakespeare’s plays: it lacks the psychological depth of, say, "Hamlet", or the parallel plots of "The Tempest". It is also the most overtly political, and examines issues that remain painfully relevant in this day and age, in our particular sociopolitical milieu. Coriolanus’s bullish insistence on speaking his own, unpopular opinion vis-à-vis Menenius’s more politic approach, the tribunes’ deft manipulation of an impressionable public, the clamor for “grain at our own price”—these are among the most resonant of the play’s themes.

The Donmar Warehouse is an intimate venue. There is no room for elaborate sets, so props and effects are pared down to the essentials: a stylized, modern interpretation of Rome, where the plebeians wear Doc Martens, the military don tight Henleys under leather harnesses, and the patrician housewives accessorize with statement jewelry.

A painted square separates the actors from the audience: at times a marketplace, a warzone, a private space. Skillfully deployed chairs and ladders, mood lighting and background visuals evoke an atmosphere of unrest, and scenes transition swiftly—albeit sometimes jarringly— to the beat of electronic dance music.

Being short on plot and efficiently economical with stagecraft, the play relies largely on the cast’s acting chemistry to hold the audience’s attention. This they do very well.

Hiddleston is arresting as Coriolanus, alternating between tense restraint and blustering fury at being made to suffer fools. While he does not exude as much gravitas as one would expect from a tragic hero, his spare, subtle comic beats lighten his charged relationships with the senator Menenius (played with self-aware superciliousness by Mark Gatiss) and his overbearing mother Volumnia (the brilliant Deborah Findley), whose ambition shaped the trajectory of Coriolanus's life: his achievements and disgrace, his redemption and downfall.

Hiddleston is a very expressive actor, and makes viewers appreciate seeing the play onscreen instead of onstage: P400 won’t get a seat in the Donmar’s rafters, but allows us a closer look at Coriolanus’s warring emotions—writ plainly on his face—as he comes to realize what must be done to end the conflict that he started. Cue the sighs of adoring fans.

And here is where your mileage may vary. I watched the screening with Shakespeare nerds and one of them commented on the fangirl effect: “Tom smiles, and the audience goes a-twitter. [His] character is broken by the viewers.”

And while his opinion could very well be colored by the fact that he is male and immune to the Hiddleston grin, one has to admit that there were some instances when the viewing experience was interrupted by the audience’s response. From where I was seated, I could hear an audible gasp when Hiddleston first kissed Birgitte Hjort Sørensen, who played his wife, Virgilia.

And the entire theater was sent into a fit of giggles when Hadley Fraser dialed up the homoerotic subtext between Aufidius and Coriolanus—it was so obvious, I thought there might be fanfiction written about it. (I checked: there is.)

But the play’s the thing. Whether you came for Shakespeare or for Hiddleston, what is apparent is that there is a market for well-written, star-studded theatricals, the sort one might find in London’s West End, and the National Theatre Live screenings are a compelling introduction to the culture of Great Britain, and an impetus to visit should time, finances, and visa approvals permit. — BM, GMA News

The British Embassy's ongoing GREAT campaign continues with the GREAT Retail Shopping Contest, Philippine-British Friendship Week headlined by the GREAT Friendship Ball, GREAT Investment Week and trade missions. The campaign's grand finale will take place in Bonifacio High Street from February 28 until March 1, 2015. For more information, visit the British Embassy in Manila's Facebook page.