Curtain coil: National Theatre warns of ‘live snakes’ on stage
Serpents steal the show as theatre brings in real reptiles for Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra
IF YOU have a love of Shakespeare but a fear of snakes, it would be advisable to read the small print before venturing to the National Theatre’s latest staging of Antony and Cleopatra.
The production stars Ralph Fiennes and Sophie Okonedo, but an equally riveting performance is given by a live snake that emerges for Cleopatra’s death scene.
The booking website does provide a warning: “Contains a real snake.” But some audience members have been caught unawares, including one lady seated in the front row.
“The poor woman was at the first preview,” said Helen Stone, an assistant stage manager and one of four backstage snake wranglers. “She was front and centre – couldn’t have had a worse seat. She had her hands over her face the entire time.”
Four milk snakes alternate in the role (they cannot be handled when they are shedding skin, or for three days after they have eaten) and their list of dressing room requirements puts many a diva to shame.
They have their own climate-controlled backstage “green room”, a personalised diet plan of defrosted mice, and – in a scenario no doubt familiar to highly-strung thespians – must be kept apart lest they try to kill each other.
Mark Amey, the animal trainer who supplied the snakes, said: “They do have the potential to eat each other. That’s a wild trait, but it’s still there. I have to get them used to being in close proximity to each other, observing their behaviour and body language and checking if they’re anxious or hungry.”
As for the acting, which requires them to emerge from a basket of figs and wrap themselves around Okonedo: “They’re marvellous performers. They take it all in their stride.”
Mr Amey stressed that the snakes were harmless and that the warning was in place “purely as a phobia precaution”. The theatre works to RSPCA guidelines on animal performers.
The director requested milk snakes because their striking colours allowed them to be seen from the back of the auditorium, Mr Amey said.
The production’s original snakes were named Mr Jangles, Larry, Honda and Pork Pie. Mr Jangles, a seasoned professional with an appearance in Disney’s Into The Woods on his CV, had to be replaced after throwing himself into the role with too much enthusiasm.
“I swapped him out because he’s a bit of a fidget-bum,” Mr Amey said. “The others are very laid-back, but Mr Jangles would think, ‘I’ve done that bit, what shall I do now?’ The actress found it hard to concentrate on her lines and handle him at the same time.”
Mr Amey cannot be at the theatre every day, so trained Ms Stone and three other staff members to look after the snakes.
Ms Stone said: “We were approached before the snakes arrived to ask if we wanted to be involved. I’m very fond of them now. I think they’re adorable.”
This is not the first time a live snake has appeared at the National. A stage manager’s report from a 1987 production of Antony and Cleopatra, starring Dame Judi Dench and Sir Anthony Hopkins, read: “The snake was not present tonight (we used a dummy). The real one had a turn just before going on, leapt out of its basket and bit a propman.”