In an era of safe revivals, that daring alone makes this Romeo and
Juliet a rare and thrilling spectacle.
A haze of smoke, steel scaffolding, and actors adorned in striking makeup, bathed in eerie blue light, all happening in a space where the arches and walls are etched with history. You are stepping into a different world – this is Flabbergast Theatre’s new production of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, a bold reimagining of the classics with fearless audacity.
Set to the strains of Petrarch’s love poetry, this rendition of Shakespeare’s timeless tragedy is anything but traditional. Campy, gripping, and wildly inventive, it defies expectations at every turn. The visual design alone is stunning—an unfinished construction structure looms over the stage, its raw, fragmented aesthetic mirroring the play’s themes of love and destruction. The costumes are a deliberate clash of eras: 19th-century hoop skirts mingle with crochet tank tops and Urban Outfitters-esque crossbody bags. Yet somehow, these disparate elements coalesce into a cohesive, electrifying aesthetic.
Equally striking is the blocking—the deliberate arrangement of bodies onstage, enhanced by dynamic lighting. Many scenes resemble living Renaissance paintings, meticulously composed yet pulsating with modern energy. Neon lights pierce through the classical framing, creating a visual tension that feels both fresh and exhilarating.
The production’s most fascinating tension, however, lies in its interplay between Shakespeare’s text and devised movement. In traditional stagings, the language carries the narrative, but here, physicality shares the spotlight. At its best—such as in the balcony scene—movement and dialogue amplify each other, injecting new vitality into familiar moments and deepening the chemistry between the lovers. Shakespeare’s language suddenly springs to life with electrifying vitality on stage. Yet at moments, the choreography distracts the audience from the text, muddling the storytelling or rendering certain speeches ungenuine.
The highlight of the ensemble surely features Lennie Longworth’s Juliet —radiant yet tender, she crafts a portrayal that feels achingly real and utterly mesmerizing. The supporting cast, too, delivers memorable and unique performances, though not uniformly; some actors lack focus, their physicality unmoored in pursuit of an ill-defined “naturalism,” weakening the narrative’s clarity and the character’s credibility.
Yet for all its bold reinvention, the production’s jarring near-absence of performers of color (just one in the cast) exposes the limits of its progressivism. This lack of diversity undermines the ensemble’s collective strength, rendering its blind-casting claims more aspirational than realized.
Overall, even when the execution falters, the production never loses its campy verve or its willingness to dismantle conventions. In an era of safe revivals, that daring alone makes this Romeo and Juliet a rare and thrilling spectacle.