I’ve now seen A Midsummer Night’s Dream countless times, including at The Royal Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon (#sogood), because despite its comic complications, it is an easy story to follow and thoroughly enjoy. Though things may not quite be as they seem, Shakespeare’s play about true love’s lack of smooth course, is quite simple in its mischief and, in the right hands, can be very funny in its execution. This is seen throughout Brisbane Arts Theatre’s mischievous production of the timeless Shakespearean classic, the final at the Petrie Terrace building that has been its home for over 70 years.
The story is of two pairs of star-crossed lovers, the coming nuptials of a duke and duchess, the growing feud between supernatural sprites in the land of the fairies, and the comedic antics of a theatre troupe… all coming together in an enchanted moonlit forest, so there is certainly much fodder for comedy. In embrace of this, the production leans into both the bawdy banter and innuendo that appears within so many of the Bard’s works and the pantomime sensibilities of its English traditions, which makes for an entertaining experience for audience members of all ages. Under Nicky Whichelow’s direction, funny is found in both the spaces between the script’s dialogue, and the nooks and crannies of its staging, making for a highly accessible work. And while it starts a little slowly with initial words accompanied by little gesture, making the dialogue more speech-like in static delivery rather than conversationally cohesive, things soon settle as we hear from fair maid Hermia (an impressive Madeline Harper) the response to being told that her father should be a god in her regard.
Harper is outstanding from the start in capture of Hermia’s passion in attempted agency through eloquent rejection of male authority figures and refusal to marry her father Egues’ (Peter Toolis) choice of suitor, in balance with submissive physicality in response to her father’s paternalist reminders of her lack of sovereignty because his will is absolute. Similarly, she layers Hermia’s ‘little but fierce’ persona with some softness, such as in her later conversation with Demetrius (Harry Cardell-Ree) regarding her love of Lysander (Troy Cations). And, in work with Cations as Lysander, she makes every appearance of the Athenian couple a highlight. Cations, meanwhile, elevates his scenes’ rhythms with dialogue delivery that sings through its iambic beat of stressed and unstressed syllables, particularly in his initial scene appearance to make plans with Hermia to flee Athens, lest she have to marry another, join a convent or die. And his literal lean into lovesickness after the magical flower juice love potion is mistakenly dropped onto Lysander’s sleeping eyelids, always works particularly well.
Kailan Tyler-Moss gives a vibrant performance as Helena in unrequited pursuit of Demetrius, delivering an impassioned and frustrated commentary about the irrational nature of love in a well-choreographed) soliloquy, and later recoiled realisation of Lysander’s mad dote upon her as a consequence of his unintended supernatural anointment by the mischievous Puck (an always invested Tilly Wood), set loose to enact the revenge of Fairy King Oberon (Shaun King) as part of his spiteful bickering with Titania, the Fairy Queen (Cheney Hossack). Peter Muir makes Bottom’s appearances appropriately overdramatic and self-aggrandising, especially in his early egotistical assurance to others in the acting troupe chosen to perform for Theseus (Ewan Ortron) and Hippolyta (Szonja Meszaros) on their nuptial day, that he can easily play all of its roles, as much as his astonished reaction to Queen Tatiana’s awakening attraction to him despite his transformation into a literal ass. And, as the story’s playful jester Puck, Wood absolutely owns the initial parts of a physical Act Two, especially in jump between animated commentary of a desired physical conflict between Hermia and Helena (when the former suspects that her friend has used her height to lure Lysander away), and also satisfaction at its resolution.
While an occasional interaction occurs outside of its light, George Pitt’s lighting design works well to chronicle the story’s changing moods, romancing Lysander’s declaration of love to Hermia and (in work with Zoe Power’s sound design) shadowing us into the lush green of the forest where the incompetent amateur actors are rehearsing their eventual bumbling, melodramatic wedding presentation, ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ (featuring a particularly hilarious Jessie Duduc as an overly fussy and thus hammy Thisbe). Designer Nick Scotney’s detailed, textured costumes, especially of the fairies and mad spirit Puck, add much to the whimsy of things, with considered costume design serving characterisation too, such as through chronicle of Hermia transition from bound-bodiced maidenhood to free-spirited self-determination in her forest escape.
While its creatives are impressive, especially in combination, at 3 hours duration, this is a long show. Even though its Act Two play-within-a-play presentation is hilarious, at 2.5 hours in, it is a labour to retain our attention. Still, with a story featuring the rendezvous of four young lovers and a group of actors and their interactions with forest fairies, and a duke and duchess, a fairy king and queen, star-crossed lovers, wood sprites and, of course, the half-donkey Bottom, A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a fantastic ensemble piece, and thus an especially fitting selection for a final send off to company’s home of so many decades. It also serves as witty reminder of why the play remains one of Shakespeare’s most cherished and enduring comedies. Indeed, the Brisbane Arts Theatre production is crafted with such embedded humour that experience of its storytelling can only resonate in its celebration of this appeal.
