If you haven’t been laid in a while, I’d advise against seeing this play – unless your untendered loins are strong enough to withstand a production
If you haven’t been laid in a while, I’d advise against seeing this play – unless your untendered loins are strong enough to withstand a production that some might describe as a very long sex scene, interspersed with comically flavoured social and political commentary.
The Australian Shakespeare Company’s rendition of D.H. Lawrence’s scandalous novel, Lady Chatterley’s Lover maintains all of its 1928 naughtiness. Adapted by Glenn Elston, the tale is as old as time – you know, the one where the upper-class lady, bored of her cramped existence seeks titillation with a working-class, A.K.A. "real", man. In this case, Lady Chatterley screws her husband’s gamekeeper.
The production is performed outdoors and once you get used to the unusual non-presence of an actual stage in the first half, you will notice the creative use of hedges and trees as replacements for walls and other interior elements. Connie (Lady Chatterley) hilariously runs about the place wide-eyed, flailing her arms and asking pertinent questions ("What is cunt?") in a broken, unassuming voice. And the first sighting of Mellors (the gamekeeper) and his marvellously toned torso has the females giggling and male audience members shuffling in their seats with uncomfortable inferiority.
After the intermission, the audience is asked to move to a forest area that hosts a raised, wooden stage atop of which stands a tilted bed. This promises, and delightfully delivers, a whole lot more frolicking than the first half – as well as a steady stream of full-frontal nudity.
The liberating atmosphere of an outside production not only enhances the physical freedom that Connie is exploring, it also allows for her handicapped and stiffly arrogant husband Clifford to roll around in a wheelchair, steam powered by a nifty, chimney-pipe-like contraption hanging off its back.
Respect to Hannah Norris (Connie) and Jamieson Caldwell (Mellors) for their ability to unabashedly display their genitals to not only a generous audience but also a cold, Melbourne night – one that is most unkind to certain male body-parts.
