“It was the nightingale.” – “It was the
lark.” – More likely than either, it was the 2020 from Malaga on its
approach to Heathrow. One is used to extraneous noise vying with the
theatricals in Regent’s Park of a summer evening, but this year’s
opening production seems more prone than most. Perhaps this is because
director Timothy Sheader (the Open Air Theatre’s new artistic supremo)
creates several other instances of drowned-out dialogue himself, not
least with Latin musical jollity during the Capulet ball where the two
lovers first set eyes on each other. (At more sombre moments, of which
there are many, composer David Shrubsole favours Michael Nyman
pastiches.) It may also be indicative of a production which tries to
hold our attention through gimmicks rather than letting the play and
the actors take the strain.
Robert Innes Hopkins’
La Dolce Vita-style
couture looks a treat, but Sheader feels compelled to show it off by
having the entire company adopt tableaux at various points, which does
nothing for the drama. Nor do Liam Steel’s movement sequences,
beginning with an explanatory prelude to a play which already has a
spoken prologue. The latter is divided phrase by phrase among the
entire company, and on the line “Where civil blood makes civil hands
unclean” they all thrust out their mitts in a gesture that makes the
heart plummet. Thankfully, things are seldom that overdone, although
Oscar Pearce plays Mercutio with a combination of camp and viciousness
that makes the character look like a self-hating homosexual, and
Richard Cotton’s Prince is much given to ineffectual yelling.
Laura Donnelly’s Juliet is lively of face and voice; her Received
Pronunciation accent cannot stifle her Irish singsong cadences, which
is to the good. In contrast, Nicholas Shaw’s Romeo largely fails to
find any music in his lines, and thus makes a poor show as an
impassioned lover. Old stagers Claire Benedict as the Nurse and Richard
O’Callaghan (who has played Friar Laurence in more productions than
most of us have ever seen) show the way, but to little result. Sheader
intercuts scenes tellingly when Romeo and Juliet learn separately of
his banishment, but then alters the whole tone of the ending by having
Juliet revive before Romeo dies. If this is intended to make their
anguish more keen, it has the opposite effect.
Written for the Financial
Times.