The life of Mary, Queen of Scots lends itself to endless retelling, being an inherently dramatic tale of ambition, conflict and love, with dynasty-spanning plotlines and charismatic protagonists wherever one turns. Mary herself is a fascinating figure, ruler of Scotland and thrice-married antagonist to her cousin Queen Elizabeth I of England.
Scottish Ballet’s take on Mary’s life is a thoroughly modern affair, with techno beats intermingled with the mandatory Tudor harpsichords. It takes as its framing device the final hours of Elizabeth (Charlotta Öfverholm), as she remembers, with regrets, her role in Mary’s downfall.
The ballet efficiently rattles through Mary’s life, from her short-lived early marriage to the Dauphin of France, through her entanglements with David Rizzio and Lord Darnley, the birth of her son (the future James VI of Scotland and I of England) and finally her downfall and execution.
Roseanna Leney embodies Mary with a compact power that delivers everything from lust to despair. It is a shame when she is limited through much of the second half by being imprisoned in a cage. Her initial meeting with Javier Andreu’s Rizzio is a steamy and erotic tour-de-force, all unbearably tense suggestion (unlike several later scenes, which lean too heavily on over-literal interpretations).
The ensemble pieces are frequently strong. The introduction of the Scottish lords and ladies (dressed in identical unisex purple doublet/kilt costumes) is a joyously danced affair. Walsingham’s (Thomas Edwards) spies are depicted with nightmarish masks evoking flies, and their sinister dance with their malevolent paymaster is a particular high point.
Soutra Gilmour’s costumes and set help tell the story every bit as effectively as the dancing. The costumes are dramatically modern interpretations of Tudor clothing. Their monochrome styling highlights how Mary and Elizabeth are an inverted pair, each other’s yin and yang.
Likewise, the set is dramatically split between black and white. When plot points come up that are beyond even the powers of ballet (such as explaining that Mary’s fate is sealed by deciphered coded letters) Anouar Brisset’s projections are on hand to help the audience along.
The most effective moment of the show comes from Grace Horler and Anna Williams’ duet. Mary and Elizabeth famously never met, but in Mary, Queen of Scots Horler and Williams dance together as the two women’s proxies. The sequence is an astonishing and pure performance, the focus solely on the movement and bodies of the dancers.
It is a shame that the ballet doesn’t carry this conviction and confidence through the rest of the performance. Too often, it relies on clunky, expositional mime to get across the story, rather than dance. The framing device of the regretful Elizabeth heightens the sense of pathos, but the appearances of the ailing queen become all too regular, frequently halting the momentum of the ballet at key moments.
Another disappointment is the puzzling choice to not allow Harvey Littlefield – dancing the younger Elizabeth with a spectacular physical presence – room to express himself. Too often he is restricted to static emoting without being given the chance to progress the narrative through movement.
This is a powerful, unapologetically modern telling of the story of Mary, Queen of Scots. When the company is freed to unleash their talents, to bring Mary and her tragedy to life through their dancing, the effect is gripping and intense.
Performed at The Festival Theatre, Edinburgh as part of the Edinburgh International Festival
Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes including interval
Scottish Ballet
CEO/Artistic Director: Christopher Hampson
Choreographer and Co-Creator: Sophie Laplane
Director and Co-Creator: James Bonas
Original Score: Mikael Karlsson and Michael P Atkinson
Set and Costume Designer: Soutra Gilmour
Lighting Designer: Bonnie Beecher
Projection and Video Design: Anouar Brissel
Cast Includes: Javier Andreu, Thomas Edwards, Grace Horler, Roseanna Leney, Harvey Littlefield, Evan Loudon, Charlotta Öfverholm, Kayla-Maree Tarantolo, Anna Williams