Doctor Faustus Sells His Soul…. in Devizes!

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Just another rainy Saturday afternoon in Devizes, whereby I watched a profound fellow dramatically sacrifice himself to the devil, then popped to Morrisons for a Toblerone! The supermarket felt insignificant and plastic after the epic conclusion of Doctor Faustus at the Wharf Theatre, which opens on Monday 26th and runs until Saturday 31st January…..

Treated to the final dress rehearsal, as our regular theatrical scribe Ian Diddams is stuffing a bucketload of Rice Krispies in this one, of which one couldn’t fail to notice! Marvellous as it is to pay Devizes’ one and only cosy theatre a visit, it leaves me in the dilemma that I’ve not the extensive theatre knowledge which Ian has, therefore, you have to make do with me simply saying what I like, or don’t.

In this case it’s the former. My mind is, with its lack of education for classic theatre, still contemplating exactly how fantastic director Liz Seabourne and her team has presented this astounding play, and the more it boggles the greater the levels of fantastic I unearth, converting me to thespian; hand me some white tights! Even though the character Dr Faustus is damned, this is another damn fine production from our wonderful theatre, rich in lighting effects, amazing costumes and makeup, and a sublime original soundtrack from our master of electronica, Moray McDonald.

Born Catholic, English sixteenth century playwright Christopher “Kit” Marlowe, of whom scholars suggest greatly influenced Shakespeare, was reputed to be an atheist and there’s a lot in the content of Dr Faustus which implies this. Whilst it doesn’t criticise religion outright in the modern sense, it certainly lampoons it, with the Pope getting a kick up the backside, for example.

Dr John Faustus condemns the academics of the science and philosophy of his era and justifies turning his hand to the dark arts, but religion he cannot escape from. Played with certain perfection by Pete Wallis, Faustus is tricky to relate to, a Renaissance egotistical Germanic tyrant, characteristics usually reserved for an antagonist; I wondered if Trump might identify with him better than I. Yet, there’s something humble about his yearning, in his curious nature for the unorthodox, to fulfil a quest of celebrity status, like a sixteenth century Vanilla Ice. Still, I couldn’t help feeling the ponce made his bed….  

Bit dodgy, he summons a human-despising conceited demon, Mephistopheles, played with absolute magnificence by Charlotte Howard. Mephistopheles acts as a kind of Cruella de Vil agent to the devil, who encourages Faustus to sign a contract with his blood; his soul for unlimited magic, which he treks the known world with, entertaining Kings and Emperors like Paul Daniels discovered voodoo. Though Mephistopheles is no Debbie McGee. Without too many spoilers, it doesn’t end well for Faustus, who learns there’s only one way out, once his twenty-four year contract with the devil expires, and it’s not a gold watch. 

If this Elizabethan forbidden thrill-seeker, overloaded with as many theatrical tricks as devils and demons, sounds seriously dark and gothic, it certainly is, but not without hilariously timeless comedy, brilliantly diluting the tragedy. There’s occasions when it’s virtually pantomime, when the devil, played with radiant vaudeville evilness by Oli Beech, a far cry from the panto dame’s sidekick at Christmas, personifies the seven deadly sins as a circus cabaret to tempt the Doc, and upon the thievery of one of Faustus’ spell books by two commoners, played side-splittingly like stereotypical moonrakers by Jessica Phillips and Ian Diddams. It is these elements which brings the archaic seriousness down a peg and makes this play equally suitable for those, like me, not so clued up on classic plays.

As the many earthbound or spiritual side-characters come and go with pace, the thirteen strong performers cover various parts, and those unmentioned so far, Chris Smith, Alison Andre, Emma Comfort, Cathay Chappell, Julie Baker, Paul Snook, Sam Burrows and Amy Chappelle also require the highest of praise; there is so much work put into this, the mind, as I stated earlier, is still boggling. It entertained me, and I strongly suspect it will be some significant time before my mind stops boggling about it, way past the lifespan of the Toblerone!    

Bag yourself some tickets for this HERE, unless you’re a demon!

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