Born With Teeth West End Reviews

Innuendos and double-entendres immediately settle in as a second language while they start to excavate the nature of poetry and espionage. They orbit each other with crackling charisma in an ambiguous limbo designed by Joanna Scotcher. Three walls of...

Innuendos and double-entendres immediately settle in as a second language while they start to excavate the nature of poetry and espionage. They orbit each other with crackling charisma in an ambiguous limbo designed by Joanna Scotcher. Three walls of barn-door lights (Neil Austin) suspend the performance. Brief projection work tells us it’s 1591: Marlowe and Shakespeare, therefore, find themselves collaborating on the three parts of Henry VI between the threats posed by religious imbalance and the secret services. The social unrest of late-Tudor England is the foundation of the story.

The most interesting sections – at least if you care about Shakespeare – are those which probe the differences between the two writers. Marlowe insists on inserting his own bold personality and controversial beliefs into every line he wrote while...

The most interesting sections – at least if you care about Shakespeare – are those which probe the differences between the two writers. Marlowe insists on inserting his own bold personality and controversial beliefs into every line he wrote while Shakespeare’s instinct is to disappear, to lose himself in every character. The moment when the two men act out Shakepeare’s inserted scene in Henry VI showing the love between a husband and wife is remarkably tender. The play’s concluding note, that Shakespeare consistently wrote Marlowe (who died in a tavern brawl in 1593 at the age of 29) back to life is intriguing.

But this is Gatwa’s show. His boisterous Kit sweats in Zoë Thomas-Webb’s leather two-piece, his every lithe action a flirtation. He lunges towards Will first out of pure instinct, as something to shag, but he grows gentler, softened by his liter...

But this is Gatwa’s show. His boisterous Kit sweats in Zoë Thomas-Webb’s leather two-piece, his every lithe action a flirtation. He lunges towards Will first out of pure instinct, as something to shag, but he grows gentler, softened by his literary sparring partner. Beneath his restless exterior, he hides genuine admiration for his uncertain lover and unmistakable fear for the murky waters he has waded into.

Ultimately what Born with Teeth suffers from the most is asking us to imagine a sex and paranoia crazed Elizabethan society while not actually showing it to us. At one point Marlowe is literally lecturing Shakespeare with a diagram about how patronag...

Ultimately what Born with Teeth suffers from the most is asking us to imagine a sex and paranoia crazed Elizabethan society while not actually showing it to us. At one point Marlowe is literally lecturing Shakespeare with a diagram about how patronage works, but it might have been easier to picture if we ever saw the outside world. Fair enough, that’s not the play Duffy wrote. But I can’t help but feel she probably had a more expansive vision that she squashed down for the sake of crafting a cost effective celebrity vehicle. The final act tries to pivot to tragedy, but it’s all based on off stage politicking that it’s hard to invest in.

Both actors sink their teeth into this juicy material. Gatwa is a charismatic force of nature as Marlowe, whether snorting drugs, swishing his cape like a matador, stroking his “throbbing quill”, or leaping across the table to pounce on Shakespea...

Both actors sink their teeth into this juicy material. Gatwa is a charismatic force of nature as Marlowe, whether snorting drugs, swishing his cape like a matador, stroking his “throbbing quill”, or leaping across the table to pounce on Shakespeare – who compares flirting with him to “petting a leopard”. Yet he also wonders, poignantly, if his work will grant him immortality. Bluemel gives us an effectively hesitant young Bard who grows in confidence and stature as his artistic genius emerges. An electrifying exchange sees the pair acting out Shakespeare’s farewell scene in Henry VI – art that reveals real emotion, proving the power of his approach.

You wait in vain for this Marlowe to acquire some nuance when he flirts with Edward Bluemel’s ingenuous Will — “Who do you f***: boys or girls?” — as they begin their collaboration on the Henry VI series. (The play’s title comes from Glou...

You wait in vain for this Marlowe to acquire some nuance when he flirts with Edward Bluemel’s ingenuous Will — “Who do you f***: boys or girls?” — as they begin their collaboration on the Henry VI series. (The play’s title comes from Gloucester’s speech in Part 3.) Duffy drew inspiration from research that suggests the two men really did work together on the text, and the script is studded with insider references that will raise a chuckle among some scholars. At its heart, though, it hovers at the level of conscientiously researched fan fiction.

Whether you’re resistant or receptive to the main premise, there’s delight to be had in seeing a friskily rivalrous rapport form between the famous duo, even if we’re given little tangible sense of the wider Elizabethan world. Bolstered by a mo...

Whether you’re resistant or receptive to the main premise, there’s delight to be had in seeing a friskily rivalrous rapport form between the famous duo, even if we’re given little tangible sense of the wider Elizabethan world. Bolstered by a monumental lighting design that seems determined to dazzle the stalls, Gatwa has the preening swagger of a rock star, restless and agile. We’re not in the same territory of art-meets-life drollery as Shakespeare in Love, and compared to the sitcom Upstart Crow, there’s more artful wittering here than actual wit. But we’re intrigued nonetheless as “Kit” moves from condescension to quill-stroking fascination with Bluemel’s diligent, sensible genius from the sticks.