It is a key statement in Shakespeare’s transformative, gender-bending pastoral comedy, just before the usurping Duke Frederick’s court is replaced by the romance of the Forest of Arden. That big reveal brought a prolonged technical difficulty on the opening night of director Daniel Evans’ all-male production, which was paused for well over an hour so it could be fixed. The technical hitch aside, it is a ravishing staging, with stunning visual effects.
There is little comedy or light in the severe court, which contains an intimidating physicality to reflect Duke Frederick’s thuggery, with slaps, shoves and a magnificently constructed WWE-style wrestling match, complete with bunny girls keeping score. It is replaced by Arden’s verdant hills on Anisha Fields’ exquisite set, so beautiful they verge on the voluptuous. The black Elizabethan gowns of the court, Puritan-like but flecked with ornament, and designed by Colin Richmond, are stunning too, as is the chequered shadow-play of the early scenes, in Ryan Day’s lighting design.
The breathtaking contrast of the switch between worlds is inevitably lost, following the long wait of the technical problem, but is nonetheless beautifully envisioned. Jonathan Groff, the US screen star who is also Broadway theatre royalty thanks in part to his performance as the king in Hamilton, makes a fun Rosalind, perhaps too declamatory at the start, but more textured and subtle later on. He instantly establishes chemistry with Fisayo Akinade’s Celia who is a runaway highlight of this show, performing femininity without caricature, and bringing an added charge to their relationship – a playful, same-sex eroticism which sees Celia straddling Rosalind at one point.
The all-male casting brings depth and subtlety of meaning, proving ingenious rather than gimmicky, simultaneously nostalgic and of the moment: a nod to the Elizabethan age when boys and men played female parts, yet now more queer and transgressive. The love between Orlando (Elliot Barnes-Worrell) and Rosalind’s disguised male alter ego, Ganymede, stays rather superficial, but the homoeroticism is more effective in their quieter moments, when Groff almost prowls with desire. He is at his best when he is overtly performative – a male actor playing a woman (Rosalind) who is playing a man (Ganymede) – and makes it work without resorting to outright camp.
The comedy is light and frothy on the whole. Gary Wilmot, who is both Duke Frederick and the exiled Duke Senior, never overplays his lines. A fantastically prim Phoebe (Tim Preston) brings a kind of librarian comedy with her disdain for the shepherd, Silvius (Edward Judge), and her love-at-first-sight for Ganymede whose brute, masculine scolding seduces her.
The ribald romance between Touchstone (Greg Haiste) and Audrey (Gareth Snook) is played for music-hall laughs, the latter is flamboyantly big-haired and archly bawdy, little short of a pantomime dame. Arden itself is rural Wales. Could this be a personal vision of an idyll from Welsh-born Evans?
Extract — continue reading at the source.
