It can be no great surprise that this is one of Christopher Marlowe's least-performed plays. Even though director David Farr has condensed the two parts into one, Tamburlaine remains a largely unknowable anti-hero who displays a frustrating lack of inner life. What exactly propels him on his ransacking way?
We first encounter a lowly Scythian shepherd but, with clinical efficiency and loyal followers, Tamburlaine mutates into a lean, mean all-conquering machine. Enemies are confusingly dispatched before we can get a handle on them and, lo, the map of the world starts to have a big 'T' scrawled in blood across it.
With his supercilious, inscrutable demeanour, Greg Hicks is just the actor to portray this morality-free man, whose hubris extends as far as employing subjugated foes to draw his chariot. The magnificently voiced Rachael Stirling, as Tamberlaine's betrothed, alternates between cavilling at his treatment of her homeland and filing her nails on his sword.
Farr's enjoyably sinuous production moves to martial rhythms, exploiting the extra space of the opened-up playing area. Props, costumes and even actors hang around onstage waiting their turn. When you have this many dominions to subdue, you can't waste time on scene changes.
