Review: TWELFTH NIGHT, OR WHAT YOU WILL, Shakespeare’s Globe
Photo credit: Helen Murray
A youthful and energetic production of Twelfth Night, or What You Will, graces the stage of Shakespeare’s iconic Globe Theatre. This is a play which tackles, at its centre, the idea of perception – the manipulation of it in the eye of others for personal gain, the fickle nature of it in the eye of a beholder, the sheer weight of it in the most basic of societal structures. We meet Viola washed ashore from a traumatic shipwreck which she believes has forever taken her twin brother, Sebastian. Desperate to secure her own safety and still in possession of his clothes, she disguises herself as a fictitious young man, Cesario, to earn work at the service of the duke. From here we see her through new waves in the plots and intricacies of love and revenge, culminating brilliantly in an atmospheric chaos that does much in celebrating the magic capabilities of theatre.
This production stands tall on the back of a multitude of striking visuals, the set being the first to embrace us, instantly artistic in its rustic nature. The staging in many ways takes on the foundation of duality in the text, most notably in the sharp, imaginative costumes which see clever mirroring and contrasts of vibrancies as well as historical silhouettes and cultural patterns brought to modernity in chic crops and urban athletic style. Other such stimulating designs come to light in seeing characters dressed in the ‘green and yellow melancholy’ which Viola uses to describe love unexpressed. The show continues to bring refreshing life to the words, in this enhanced theatrical affair, by taking literally the inherent rhythm and musicality of Shakespeare’s works. Not only does musical accompaniment bring cinematic experience and lubricate the wild emotional movements of the bard, experimentation with dance plays into this new lens of African culture applied to the reality of immigration filling theatre seats.
The play builds in dimensions of attitude to show, visually and with no chance of disclaim, that everyone is an outsider to something – perhaps even to comment on the human nature to build walls and deny entry for protection of some great unknown prize. The fleeting contemplation of deeper themes we see, distanced from the pleasing amplified characterisation in a place of familiarity, showcases an exceptional creative team taking brilliantly to the privilege of giving new context to writings we have come to call classics – and thus reminding us why we did as such. It is on this basis that this versatile cast can naturally fold in modernity and let the piece fully take root in the now.
The talent of the cast shines bright, uplifted in shining examples of chemistry. Their unwavering counter to the Globe’s challenge to projection and tackling of the language is expert. They seep with purpose into each and every feeling as they navigate the stage and script all too aware that the glue lies in the reliable cushion of their characters and there is always time to fluff. Not for a second of the performance do they let us fool ourselves into thinking we know what to expect from them, yet we are able to surrender to surprise with total comfort. A great majority of the strengths of this production lie in the wonderful comedic direction. Their quick-witted delivery and timing, paired with steadfast physical comedy, gets down to the essence and bones of Shakespeare to such a degree that it settles at times with pantomime feel, iconic imagery obliged but boundaries pushed as concepts simply written are creatively materialised and audience interaction and relation trigger eruptions of laughter.
Laura Hanna, as Olivia, and Max Keeble, as Antonio, take on, effortlessly and essentially, matters of the heart as two sides of the same coin. Keeble is the breaking heart to Hanna’s warming. Where much of the cast brings a natural sense of fun and play to the text, Keeble’s portrayal of Antonio rather impresses with the extra feeling he gives it. As a performer, he possesses the ability to slow time, suspending the audience in the undeniable rejoice of queer romance, but a directed rush to end causes a tear and leaves something of a questioning hole in things. The way Hanna owns the stage is totally unmatched. A caricature of femininity, her body language sings, at its best in Olivia’s infrequent smile with the power to catch breath in the air. In many ways the centre of our interweaving narrative, she balances brilliantly the full spectrum of emotion on her back with ease.
The official scene stealer of this production, Jos Vantyler’s provocative air and rich vocal brings to life a delightfully animated Feste, closely followed in liveliness and colour by the rousing performance of Alison Halstead as Maria, who ends the show the way a jester would have and in the thought-provoking nature that Shakespeare would have wanted. Jocelyn Jee Esien is the first to clasp us with such gravity in a grounded performance of standout comic relief, very much in a state of belonging on this stage. Ronkẹ Adékọluẹ́jọ́’s portrayal of Viola intrigues and amuses with suave charisma, her unique reading of the character brings an exciting originality to proceedings. Ian Drysdale portrays an Andrew instantly iconic in his look and deeply lovable for his underlying wholesomeness and toddler-like detachment. Emmy Stonelake is an appreciated slow burn as Fabian, her presence and physicality undeniably her superpower.
**** Four stars
Reviewed by: Louisa Clarke
