Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Unlock the Editor’s Digest for freeRoula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.If ever there were a title that lacked a question mark, All’s Well That Ends Well is surely it. Shakespeare’s “problem play” puzzles its way through a thicket of moral conundrums to arrive at a happy ending of sorts. But in Chelsea Walker’s sprightly new modern-dress production, lead character Helen’s firm assertion that all’s well that ends well feels very much like wishful thinking, given what we’ve seen en route.Walker’s pace is brisk and nimble from the outset, whistling us through the early plot knots in which the lovelorn, low-born Helen (Ruby Bentall) cures the ailing King of France and, getting him to bestow a husband as reward, seizes on handsome, higher-born Bertram, the object of her affections. That Bertram is not keen is putting it mildly — in fact he huffs off to Italy to play at soldiers rather than consummate his marriage and, once there, proceeds to force his attentions on Diana (Georgia-Mae Myers), a local maiden. Helen, undeterred, pursues him, and uses that good old plot device, the bed trick (taking Diana’s place at an arranged tryst in the dark) to deceive him into fulfilling his spousal obligations. So it is that, in a play riddled with tricks, feints and deceptions, the reluctant husband is snared, Diana stays chaste and Bertram’s bosom buddy Paroles is sent packing. To a modern audience this all looks flaky at best, morally dubious at worst — and very much not guaranteed to end happily ever after. But Walker and her cast address it with an air of mischief and a spring in the step, while also drawing out the dark undercurrents and the sense of a bigoted, patriarchal society that warps characters’ behaviour. Here “ending well” means getting married — a financial imperative for women, who must bring their virginity to market, and a firm expectation for men, whether it fits with their sexuality or not (here, there’s clearly mutual attraction between Bertram and Paroles).The staging is led from the front by Bentall’s excellent Helen — a spirited little body who bemoans her lot to us as she works her way through a tray of drinks and who, when disguised as a nun on pilgrimage, applies a quick coat of scarlet lippy before going into battle. She’s smart, determined, ruthless: an intriguing and morally complex heroine operating in a grubby world. There’s lovely work too from Siobhán Redmond as Bertram’s mother, a decent and resourceful woman, who sneakily prefers Helen to her arrogant son.The production has a definite sense of the women working the system and outwitting the men. But success comes at a cost: Kit Young’s charismatic, contemptuous Bertram is visibly shocked and distressed at the end as he realises how he has been duped; William Robinson’s fine, brittle Paroles is humiliated in a trick that has more than a hint of homophobic abuse; Bentall’s Helen seems suddenly aware of the hollow nature of her victory. At a time of year when happy endings are at a premium, this show neatly bucks the trend.★★★★☆To January 4, shakespearesglobe.com
