July 16, 2008
This is the most adolescent production of Romeo and Juliet that I've ever seen. I mean this largely as a compliment. Romeo and Juliet is an adolescent play. It isn't about mature love, but teenaged infatuation colliding with adult realities. It's therefore fitting that most of this production's cast is very young (the program is peppered with references to Drama GCSEs), that it wallows in emotional music – and that it occasionally becomes sick of self-love in the way that only a teenager can.
I was predisposed to like this production simply because, for the most part, it doesn't try to get clever. Unlike a lot of modern Shakespeare, in which characters get costumed as hippies or thrust into Communist Russia because that's what one does, the Actors Company keeps it simple. The costuming is eclectic, but doesn't draw attention to itself, and the set consists mostly of a smoke machine and what looks like a transparent ping-pong table. The acting is similarly straightforward: solid, unpretentious, and traditional.
That many of the actors are teenagers both helps and hinders the play. I loved the way the first meeting between Romeo (Ben Baxter) and Juliet (Natalie McCormack) was staged. He catches a glimpse of her, spouts some platitudes, and goes back to a game of dice with his friends. She attracts his attention by dropping him a flower, seemingly on the spur of the moment. It was all redolent of a secondary school dance rather than a Great Love Story, and that, I think, is how it should be.
But this naturalistic immaturity did not suit the later scenes of sex and grief so well. When poor Romeo has to remove his trousers in the wedding night scene, his inner monologue – 'don't look at the audience, don't look at the audience' – is awkwardly evident. The uneasy chuckles from the audience seemed to confirm that we all felt a bit awkward too. Juliet's many scenes of grieving, meanwhile, were not varied enough to be convincing.
Grief not being the strength of the main characters, the production leant a bit too much on the tragic. This might seem like an unfair criticism to make of a tragedy, but it has often been observed that the first half of Romeo and Juliet is structured like a comedy, and there are some brilliantly funny exchanges within it. Unfortunately, these were mostly neglected in this production. The Nurse (Carole Seward) was curiously subdued, and her lines, nearly all of which are footnoted 'bawdy', tended to slip away unnoticed.
Mercutio (Alex Rogers) was a prime slice of ham, as he must be, but he too was not often allowed to be funny. However, I was impressed that Rogers played him as gay, but without resorting to campy affectation. His confused love for Romeo was as natural as Romeo's for Juliet, and added a striking touch of significance to his 'consort' exchange with Tybalt.
The serious flaw of the production was its use of music and video. Music played pretty near constantly during the show, and while it was well-chosen and enjoyable (I'd happily listen to the soundtrack as a mix tape), too often it overrode the words and seemed to be telling us what we were meant to feel. The videos projected against the back of the stage did not even have the virtue of being well-chosen. When Romeo kills Tybalt, blood drips. When Juliet dies, a red rose falls to the ground. When Montague and Capulet shake hands at the end of the play, a white dove flaps. I winced every time.
But I don't mean this criticism to override my general good impression of the play. There was a real sense of friendly community amongst the actors and the younger crew were admirable – particularly Peter (Nathaniel Heather), who couldn't have been more than twelve, and who got a chuckle almost every time he came onstage. And I'd especially like to single out the excellent swordfighting, choreographed by Tim Klotz. Any time the rapiers came out, I found myself grinning, perfectly entertained and without a criticism in my head – exactly what Elizabethan groundlings paid their pennies for.
I was predisposed to like this production simply because, for the most part, it doesn't try to get clever. Unlike a lot of modern Shakespeare, in which characters get costumed as hippies or thrust into Communist Russia because that's what one does, the Actors Company keeps it simple. The costuming is eclectic, but doesn't draw attention to itself, and the set consists mostly of a smoke machine and what looks like a transparent ping-pong table. The acting is similarly straightforward: solid, unpretentious, and traditional.
That many of the actors are teenagers both helps and hinders the play. I loved the way the first meeting between Romeo (Ben Baxter) and Juliet (Natalie McCormack) was staged. He catches a glimpse of her, spouts some platitudes, and goes back to a game of dice with his friends. She attracts his attention by dropping him a flower, seemingly on the spur of the moment. It was all redolent of a secondary school dance rather than a Great Love Story, and that, I think, is how it should be.
But this naturalistic immaturity did not suit the later scenes of sex and grief so well. When poor Romeo has to remove his trousers in the wedding night scene, his inner monologue – 'don't look at the audience, don't look at the audience' – is awkwardly evident. The uneasy chuckles from the audience seemed to confirm that we all felt a bit awkward too. Juliet's many scenes of grieving, meanwhile, were not varied enough to be convincing.
Grief not being the strength of the main characters, the production leant a bit too much on the tragic. This might seem like an unfair criticism to make of a tragedy, but it has often been observed that the first half of Romeo and Juliet is structured like a comedy, and there are some brilliantly funny exchanges within it. Unfortunately, these were mostly neglected in this production. The Nurse (Carole Seward) was curiously subdued, and her lines, nearly all of which are footnoted 'bawdy', tended to slip away unnoticed.
Mercutio (Alex Rogers) was a prime slice of ham, as he must be, but he too was not often allowed to be funny. However, I was impressed that Rogers played him as gay, but without resorting to campy affectation. His confused love for Romeo was as natural as Romeo's for Juliet, and added a striking touch of significance to his 'consort' exchange with Tybalt.
The serious flaw of the production was its use of music and video. Music played pretty near constantly during the show, and while it was well-chosen and enjoyable (I'd happily listen to the soundtrack as a mix tape), too often it overrode the words and seemed to be telling us what we were meant to feel. The videos projected against the back of the stage did not even have the virtue of being well-chosen. When Romeo kills Tybalt, blood drips. When Juliet dies, a red rose falls to the ground. When Montague and Capulet shake hands at the end of the play, a white dove flaps. I winced every time.
But I don't mean this criticism to override my general good impression of the play. There was a real sense of friendly community amongst the actors and the younger crew were admirable – particularly Peter (Nathaniel Heather), who couldn't have been more than twelve, and who got a chuckle almost every time he came onstage. And I'd especially like to single out the excellent swordfighting, choreographed by Tim Klotz. Any time the rapiers came out, I found myself grinning, perfectly entertained and without a criticism in my head – exactly what Elizabethan groundlings paid their pennies for.