Another evening at the theatre, another travesty. Henry V this time, at Leeds Playhouse. No chorus to welcome the audience with ‘O for a muse of fire’, instead a scene of the director’s own devising. What makes directors think they can do better than Shakespeare? What makes actors think they must speak Shakespeare’s poetry as if it were prose? What makes me go on thinking that one day I will see Shakespeare performed as Shakespeare intended?
Neil Rathmell, writer 