Character Reflection: Malvolio
My experiences with Shakespeare go back to around the age of 15. At school, when we studied texts such as The Tempest and Macbeth, I’ll be honest and say that I really struggled to relate to the world and the characters. Something about the approach to the study wasn’t connecting with me at all and I often found myself seeing these plays as something totally removed from myself. But a few years later, when I seriously started to consider drama school and sought out help, I met an incredible LAMDA coach who completely awoke my imagination and interest. Suddenly, these worlds were vibrant and these characters, who I once found unrelatable, were full of psychological complexity and actively driven towards integral objectives.
Towards the end of my second year of drama school training, I was assigned the role of Malvolio in Twelfth Night for my final assessment of the year. For anyone who knows the part well, you will know that it is a beloved crowd pleaser role in the play and therefore comes with a lot of expectation and pressure. Facing the challenge, I came across a lot of different opinions- some people saw him as a proud idiot, intent on spoiling the fun and liveliness of the surrounding characters, others saw him as a lecherous, overreaching schemer, aiming all his hopes on a woman well beyond his station. No matter how much I looked at the character, I couldn’t bring myself to agree with any of these positions. I could see the dramatic potential of their interpretations but I didn’t feel it personally in my gut.
I was pleased to find that our director shared my sentiments. She believed that the key to the closing segment of our interpretation was in the audience finding a deep rooted empathy with the suffering he experiences at the cruel games played by the other members of the household. In my own past, I had faced pranks of a similar nature, instances where I had been led to believe, like Malvolio, that someone who I admired may also care for me in a way, only to have the carpet firmly pulled from under you in a very public way. Maybe this is why I couldn’t help but feel for Malvolio, but whatever the case, I was glad to have this entryway into the character.
Working with our director, who I cannot thank enough for making this experience what it was, I found a playfulness to segments such as the letter scene where the audience could become his confidantes, seeing the vulnerable side that lay beneath the serious, frustrated steward. Malvolio is full of grand ideas, certainly, and yes, his thoughts do run away with him, but who doesn’t leap at a dream when it presents itself? Who doesn’t wish to believe that they may be capable of being loved? And who would ignore the chance that the love of their life may feel the same way?
This was my Malvolio. A man from a humble background who had worked hard to achieve his entire life. Unable to enjoy the pleasures of parties, women and drink, he set his mind on breaking out of his class towards a better life, until he finally found himself installed as the steward in Olivia’s household. Powerless against her beauty and her charm, he couldn’t help but harbor feelings that had no chance of being fulfilled- and so he buried them and spent his days preventing her wanton, irresponsible kin from destroying her home. And then he found the letter- presented with something he could never expect, he leaped headlong into it, happy to abandon any pride or dignity in order to prove his love to her. Throughout the story, this sad, frustrated, little man is reduced to a joke by people who take an instant dislike to him, and although, like many of Shakespeare’s comedies, there is a happy ending filled with weddings and joy, Malvolio is one of only three characters who walks away with nothing- no hope, no joy, no love.
It’s a tragic arc that still moves me now but I was incredibly proud to play it and I can’t help but wish for the chance to do it again.