Orlando: A Tale of Trans-cendence at the Corpus Playroom
In the winter of 2023, I watched Neil Garrett’s adaptation of Orlando at the Garrick Theatre. Profusely disappointed by this production, I had my reservations as I sat down in the Corpus Playroom on opening night (this production ran from October 28 to November 1). Yet, Eva Sharkey’s rendition far exceeded my expectations - it was brilliant. This adaptation of the play, which tells the tale of the immortal Orlando, who shifts from Elizabethan nobleman to Victorian woman, cohesively draws together acting, costume, lighting and more, to produce a theatrical spectacle in celebration of fluidity.
“This adaptation of the play… cohesively draws together acting, costume, lighting and more, to produce a theatrical spectacle in celebration of fluidity.”
Enya Crowley convincingly portrays Orlando as both male and female without making either a caricature: they are compellingly androgynous. Despite being dealt some challenging, metaphor-packed monologues, Crowley delivers them with naturalistic ease. Gaby Albertelli and Flossie Adrian were standout performers. Albertelli is a master of accents, switching effortlessly between Russian, cockney and RP, while Adrian is electric, captivating the audience first with her Olivia Coleman-like Queen, and later with her blabbering and dumbstruck sea-captian. The trio of Virginia Woolfs (a set of characters not in the novel, an addition to Garrett’s adaptation), steered by Romola Goldfarb, commanded the Corpus Playroom stage, moving with a sense of choreographed premeditation.
Enya Crowley as Orlando, Thomas Holland
Orlando’s costume designers, Esther Crasnow-Dodd and Leah Richens clearly collaborated with Sharky throughout the rehearsal process, as not only were the costumes captivating, they were used with purpose. In Act Two, for instance, Orlando’s wedding ring is ripped off Woolf’s finger. Costume and set acted in harmony with one another. A chest of costumes sat on stage throughout the play, with characters frequently leaning in to grab a garment, and the neutral colour-pallette of the three Virginias uniform complimented the stage’s beige backdrop.
The costume also stepped back into the past, whilst reaching out into the future. The Elizabethan queen wore an old-fashioned white dress, yet was dolled up in drag-inspired makeup. And, Orlando’s conventional blazer was worn over binding tape. These details enhanced the play's sense of transcendence. While the play ends in 1941, with the death of Virginia Woolf, the fictionalised writer insists that Orlando must keep on living. , despite the actual writer being dead, her story lives on. Her novel has shifted into a play, and gained and lost meaning as society around it has changed. The play is queer in structure and queer in content, and in the twenty-first century, it is impossible to read the story as anything but inherently trans.
Flossie Adrian as Queen Elizabeth, Thomas Holland
Unknowingly, this play came to the Cambridge stage when it was needed most. In the last week alone, Cambridge University Boat Club forced through a proposal to ban trans women from rowing in the women’s division, and an exclusionary society, the Cambridge University Society of Women, was founded. Both these acts intend to confine and erase trans students. Yet, Orlando is a play about trans-cendence. While the character alludes to the derogatory disbelief they receive after waking up in the body of a woman, Garrett’s adaptation never shows this hate. Instead, the play gives a platform to trans and queer joy. Orlando lives their life to the fullest. They travel the world, they fall in love. And it is this optimism that the play ends on, as Orlando and Marmaduke Bonthrop Shelmerdine seal the play with a kiss.