(seen at the afternoon performance on 18th January 2025)
It’s a dangerous game, using a grass-based set (Lucy Osbourne) when you have a donkey around. A slightly “Chinese Takeaway” feel to the whole thing - what with that, and the hanging lanterns.
The good news is, in adding illusion designer John Bulleid’s contribution, we truly are in fairyland. Director Eleanor Rhode’s decision to have Peaseblossom (Natalie Thomas), Cobweb (Esme Hough), Moth (Alexander Bellinfantie) and Mustardseed (Eliza Smith) appear mostly as points of light is genius, leaving the show intact but visually clean on the wide stage.
Sadly, Pete Malkin fails as sound designer to balance orchestra and actors sufficiently – often drowning the spoken word in horrifically noisy drumbeats. It detracts particularly from Katherine Pearce’s monologues as Puck, ruining important moments of narrative. A disappointment as Pearce is, well, puckishly amusing.
For the rest, it is a modern dress and contemporary approach without very much beyond the idea of a party atmosphere prevailing – the colours vivid as in dreams, plastic spheres scattering as reality intrudes.
It allows the actors to concentrate on the text and deliver clarity in their heavily interwoven relationships. The four lovers are defined, and intertwined, ending in a particularly amusing final reunion with their families.
Dawn Sievewright’s Hermia is a wild-haired Scot, to her tartan accessories. Boadicea Ricketts is a far taller Helena, but you know Sievewright could take her in a moment. A shame, as Ricketts grows to match her in comic ability and timing.
Ryan Hutton and Nicholas Armfield (Lysander and Demetrius, respectively) are as strong a pair of lovers as anyone could hope for. Hutton has a public schoolboy floppiness going on, Armfield a sharper city cut. Neither mature, but they end up with the right lady.
In the fairy realm, Sirine Saba produces a dominating Titania. Her revulsion, realising Mathew Baynton’s “Mr Spooner” (from “Are You Being Served”) style Bottom is her donkey obsession, hilariously played by both of them.
Andrew Richardson is a painted, preening Oberon, malicious yet with a sense of style making us forgive some of his trespasses. A conscience too, realising from his ladder when things have gone too far.
The monkey did have to ask “Perplexity” (an A.I. search engine, really useful) why the Mechanicals have a long epilogue at all – modern playwrighting would probably cut it. The reasons are valid and, to be fair, Rita Quince (Helen Monks) and her team do plenty with it.
Slightly vulgar in this incarnation, always tedious to the monkey mind just for where it comes in the play (it always wants to leave 20 minutes sooner, once the real story is over), but a well-considered ensemble moment.
It is satisfying to have the Royal Shakespeare Company back in London, performing actual Shakespeare. If not quite reaching the heights of the unforgettable Regent’s Park “Chav” Dream, which set the bar for the monkey, this scores on atmosphere and invention, a hugely successful transfer.
We can only hope for an RSC return to regular Winter Shakespeare seasons at the Barbican in the future.
4 stars.
Photo credit: Pamela Raith Photography.