Theatre

The James Plays – James I

Hearn Generating Station Theatre, Toronto, Canada

Phil Miller

four stars

AN extraordinary night in Canada. And not solely because of the vivid, committed and febrile performance by the National Theatre of Scotland's acting company on this, the last stage of a six month international tour for Rona Munro’s punchy historical dramas.

The night was notable, too, because these shows at Toronto's annual Luminato Festival represents the last work for Laurie Sansom in his role as artistic director of the NTS. Remarkable, too, was the warm reaction from the Canadian audience, with a standing ovation and much enthusiastic conversation about the play’s drama (and humour) after its premiere.

Part of the sense of occasion came from the unusual venue for these Canadian dates for The James Plays: the vast Hearn power station, in the docklands of Toronto. A gigantic brick building with a colossal tower and an aura of titanic desolation, the coal-fuelled power station was decommissioned in the early1980s. Now in its tenth year, and fifth and last year for artistic director Jorn Weisbrodt, the Luminato festival has moved from the conventional concert halls and theatres of Toronto to this vast hulk, ten minutes by cab from Union Station.

Weisbrodt longs for art forms to be removed from their genre-specific performance “silos”. This venue makes those divisions almost impossible. The enormous brick shell holds a single volume of space so big (it is three times the size of Tate Modern) that while the James Plays are inaugurating its specially-built theatre, a sound installation is playing in another area, and a visual art exhibition includes the world’s biggest glitter ball casting its light across many walls. If the performances sometimes bleed into each other, that is the kind of "permeable" performance venue that Weisbrodt is aiming for.

The rehabilitated site is far from pristine or manicured. It is safe, but the concrete floors are uneven, it is cold, and racoons, coyotes and falcons are active residents.

The sheer scale of the vault in which the James Plays are being staged somehow feels right for their historical sweep: as Weisbrodt has said, the brick-built power stations of the 1970s could be seen as Western civilization's last castles, and when the house lights are down, the setting implies tower walls or cathedral naves.

The already-praised ingredients survive the transition triumphantly. Sansom’s direction is clear, fluid and punchy, and Blythe Duff once again chills as the poisonous Isabella Stewart, with an iron grip on this vast stage. Steven Miller plays a movingly heartbroken James I, and his transition from captive mitherer to kingly murderer is highly effective. John Stahl is a strong and conflicted Murdac Stewart, while the ensemble as a whole – overcoming some uneven sound – is visceral and vibrant. A fascinating trans-Atlantic translation on a remarkable scale.