What do you do to mark the 400th
anniversary of Shakespeare’s death if you’re the Royal, actual,
Shakespeare Company? Well, you’re a national flagship theatre, so you
send a show on a national tour, of course. But which one? Best steer
clear of the landmarks like Hamlet: too sombre, and frankly far too
long. No, go for a comedy. And what’s the best-loved comedy?
A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It’s got
love mix-ups, it’s got nobles and oiks alike falling into hilarious
chaos, it’s got a play within a play, it’s got the deliberate-mistake
style of acting on which the creators of
The Play That Goes Wrong have built
a career, and when Bottom the weaver is magically given a donkey’s head
it’s got a raft of “Bottom” and “ass” jokes. Something for everyone,
except possibly Ian Paisley Jr.
But you need to do even more to make it thoroughly national. Fairy
queen Titania’s train: groups of local schoolchildren. Aaaah. And… ooh!
ooh!... have Bottom and his horny-handed friends played by local
am-dram groups wherever you go! This is a true stroke of genius: it
plugs the play into every area it visits, and brings professionals and
amateurs together whilst cannily giving the latter the parts that get
the most gags. And so it proved on press night on the RSC’s home turf.
The Nonentities group from Kidderminster (some 25 miles from
Stratford-upon-Avon) were led by Chris Clarke’s expansive Bottom. (That
kind of pun’s pretty much compulsory when you review this one.)
The local groups have put huge thought and energy into this project,
yet where the effort really sticks out is with the professionals. You
can almost see the ticked boxes on director Erica Whyman’s clipboard. A
multiracial cast – Oberon, king of the fairies (and the most nuanced
performer) is Afro-British Chu Omambala, his queen Titania (too stiff
and formal) is South Asian Brit Ayesha Dharker. Actors of all creeds,
heritages… and heights: when the petite Hermia’s bewitched beau calls
her a “dwarf”, the restricted-growth actor playing fairy Mustardseed
rushes on and deals him an almighty thump on the, er, knee.
The company are dressed in 1940s style, to remind us of a time when we
all pulled together as a community and also to evoke our national
mythology. But somehow all this togetherness and fun becomes a bit of a
grind. The most uncomfortable example is Lucy Ellinson as mischievous
fairy Puck: she’s a wonderful, playful actor, but she doesn’t seem able
to let loose here the way that’s clearly intended. It’s a very nice
piece of work, and all the pieces of the intricate scheme are fitted
together skilfully, but it’s a pity we can see the glue.
Written for The Lady.