This summer has already seen a fine
Much Ado About Nothing, with the
overdue release of Joss Whedon’s film version. Marius von Mayenburg’s
Schaubühne production of his own new translation is also preoccupied
with the silver screen. Von Mayenburg, however, ranges far from the
country-house rom-com territory of Shakespeare’s play, into every movie
genre he can think of.
Leonato’s house in Messina is first seen as a pink-neon-lit night-club,
at which the military guests arrive before a Hawaiian motif takes over
and a victory
luau is held.
From palm beach to jungle, as the “overheard” conversations fooling
Beatrice and Benedick into loving each other take place on a big game
hunt (with Benedick disguised in full tiger costume), thence to King
Kong’s Skull Island with its dinosaurs and a trick-photography movie of
Hero’s alleged infidelity to her betrothed Claudio in which she appears
to shag the Empire State Building. This wicked plot has been organised
by the Nosferatu-looking Don John, hatched in what looks like an
outtake from
Plan 9 From Outer Space
and reaches its evil fruition at a
Munsters-style
wedding. You get the picture? Hell, you get the entire film archive.
This is thanks to fine video work by Sébastien Dupouey, who multiplies
Robert Beyer’s Don John onscreen for a dance of triumph which includes
the only instance you may ever see of vampires engaging in synchronised
nose-picking. It will surely not by now be a surprise to learn that the
production also includes a dozen or so musical numbers, beginning with
Kay Bartholomäus Schulze as Leonato crooning Leonard Cohen’s acerbic
“Everybody Knows”. Despite these additions, the evening runs at less
than two and a quarter hours without interval: von Mayenburg has cut
the unfunny, malapropism-laden Watch scenes altogether and trimmed the
remainder to enable its performance by a cast of seven.
This entails some curious doubling: Beyer plays both Don Pedro and Don
John, and most intriguingly the maid Margaret becomes the drag alter
ego of Leonato. Consequently Leonato has no excuse for not knowing that
the accusation against Hero is false, and the absence of the Watch
means that the truth is revealed with a perfunctory confession leaving
as little apparently at stake as during the fancy-dress (and
grass-skirts) party. Von Mayenburg certainly overplays his hand
frequently, but the whole is such a good-natured piece of
Regietheater that it is difficult
for even a committed reactionary to condemn it altogether.
Written for the Financial
Times.