by Hannah Gilkes

The contrasts in this production are immediate; sterile unhappiness versus Don John’s vibrancy and overt sexuality. There is very little doubt over which will triumph, particularly in the run up to the interval when Don John’s libido crushes everything in its path. By doing so, he unconsciously emphasises the hopelessness of his victims: a vicar’s wife, desperate for a physical touch, a businesswoman whose reserve he has ‘peeled off with promises’, and an Everyman, looking for a love that always seems just out of his reach.

Each affair is accompanied by an amazing score. Epic rock is an unusual mix with seventies dancers but this production makes it work. There is also the opportunity for all to show their calibre through the all-singing, all-dancing nature of the roles. Patrycja Kujawska is the star of a strong cast; her Zerlina is comic and tragic with equal impact, and sings and dances with unabated energy throughout.

Don John’s conquering of Zerlina is both the climax of the first half and the sobering beginning of the second, and marks the turn in his luck. He swaggers across the stage, with his sex appeal apparently unaffected by a long green dress, laced boots and a leather jacket. He is still the rock star of this piece, Mozart’s hero meets Sid Vicious.  However, it is noticeable that he is not simply a hedonist – he doesn’t just desire the women who are marched through his sheets so regularly, he needs their love making to validate his freedom and this need lends him a vulnerability that is absent from the first act. Hurtling towards an early grave, he is haunted by the fear that tomorrow he might be old or dead.

This fear proves to be valid, and an overdose of pills, washed down with vodka, takes the place of the commandatore’s statue dragging Don John, kicking and screaming, to Hell. Obviously, some sort of substitution needs to be made in order to update the story, however, one problem with this particular instance is that his death, although relatively simple to convey, takes a really long time. Even the, really excellent, singing and dancing of the cast has begun to pall by the time the lascivious hero eventually closes his eyes and it is difficult to avoid seeing it as a bit of an anti-climax. Nobby laments  ‘not like this!’ over his friend’s body, as though he, too, wanted Don John to go out with a bang rather than a splutter.

There is also something inconsistent about the modernization of the setting, in the instance of Don John’s death, when it is compared to the operatic contrivance of Anna’s rape. It must have been dark during the power cuts but she is apparently able to believe that the dark could remove several inches from her husband’s waistband and add them to his height. A manipulation of belief of this kind works better with the incredulity inspired by an opera that will end with its hero collapsing into a pit of hellfire. It occasionally jars when set against a background that includes the theme tune to Grange Hill, the voice of Jim Callaghan and death at the bottom of a bottle.

Don John directed and adapted by Emma Rice and Anna Maria Murphy

Battersea Arts Centre, London

Until 9th May 2009.

020 7223 2223

www.bac.org.uk