"Middlemarch". Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon
Short books can be wrecked by overlong adaptations (see The Hobbit movies), and long books can be ruined by overshort ones ( The Bonfire of the Vanities ). But the Royal Shakespeare Company’s time-honoured technique of splitting weighty Victorian novels into two parts is a winning formula. It worked magnificently last year with The Forsyte Saga , and it works almost as well with Nina Raine’s adaptation of George Eliot’s masterpiece, Middlemarch . The Forsyte Saga found one clear line through John Galsworthy’s five books, and wove it into a day of theatrical inventiveness that – crucially – didn’t feel like an adaptation. Middlemarch is more sumptuous. Longer than Forsyte (seven hours as opposed to five), it feels closer to its original material. This is both its strength and its weakness. Strength, because it’s a rich, immersive tapestry of fascinating characters, intriguing sub-plots and showpiece scenes. Weakness, because it never quite breaks the shackles of its literary source....
