A show with great moments and an overall good job from the cast

Two sets of twins are separated by a shipwreck and end up in rival cities. Obviously. It’s Shakespeare. It doesn’t take long before identities are mistaken and chaos ensues–there’s a reason, after all, that the play’s title is still common parlance today–or before everything is happily wrapped up again. However, this production doesn’t so much hurtle towards its finale, as promised, but rather reaches the finish line in fits and starts.

The show struggles with momentum. This is mostly not the fault of the actors, whose workrate is often high, but of many of the creative decisions made by director Paul Foster and his team. We appear to have landed in a tourist-filled spot in Greece (hence the vast array of accents?) although this is neither made the most of nor made entirely clear. Distracting lighting choices and too-long trailer-esque music filling many scene transitions suck the energy out of the piece and create a friction requiring both actor and audience to work harder. In a play of this kind, this is make-or-break, especially for the middle portion when the audience is predicting what comes next. Momentum is hampered, too, by the vastness of the playing space which dwarfs the action and dissipates vocals. Of course, some of the responsibility here lies with the actors who need to reach further than my middle row seat and, in one moment, be heard over the sound of their own footsteps.

The centrepiece of Liam Bunster’s set–a weather-worn, insides-exposed villa–is multi-purpose and allows the cast plentiful opportunities for fun. Lots of doors are useful in a farce, after all. Having a children’s roundabout on stage is also a lovely decision to encourage play, underline the show’s cyclicality, and mirror the symmetry of the twins. In the moments the show leans into the farce and the actors’ comedic chops take the reins, the performance flies. It’s a shame, then, that this primed-for-farce set is underutilised and many doors are left unopened.

The more choreographed sections in the piece are, excusing a slightly cringey opening sequence, well-crafted and stand to uplift the show. Fights are funny, mostly believable, and there are clever and subtle moments where the twins’ movements and positioning satisfyingly mirror the others’. Again, however, there is a feeling of unmet potential. Glimpses of commedia dell’arte in some scenes are missed in others; indeed, there are times it seems not all actors are existing in the same world. The variety of accents (and varying ability to carry them off) doesn’t help with this feeling. An unexpected instant of comedy in the arrival of the Pinch certainly has the audience laughing, yet confused, and feels out of place. The joke seems to be that Antipholus and Dromio are thought to be demonically possessed when we know they are not. To then have the exorcism appear to be working is funny but muddies the waters.

Overall, the cast do a good job, though do suffer instances of over-indulgence. Bar the occasional lack of vocal presence, or slight repetitiveness of delivery in a “this is what Shakespeare sounds like” vein, they handle the language well with strong character work. As you may expect, it’s the Antipholus and Dromio twins who steal the show, overflowing with energy and never letting the ball drop. Maximus Evans’ Antipholus has great connection with the audience and plays the jump between flirtatious and fearful well, and Kaya Ulaşli’s Antipholus masterfully captures the descent into madness. Alec Boaden and Jordan Rhys, as their respective Dromio’s, are almost indistinguishable, both possessing excellent comic timing, an adroitness with Shakespeare’s wit, and clear slapstick chops. Special mention, too, to Esther O’Casey who successfully embodies Adriana’s love, jealousy and suspicion for her partner and who injects life into otherwise limp scenes.

During the bows, the cast all dance a polka together to Greek music. The music is the kind we’ve heard throughout the show, sans any dancing or non-textual clues we are in Greece. In this dance, the full joy and vibrancy of the actors are unleashed and the audience can’t help but to smile and clap along. The question with which I left the theatre was: where was this energy in the rest of the show?