Winter descends on Athens in this bold co-production from Leeds Playhouse, Headlong and Shakespeare’s Globe, and with it, much of the warmth traditionally associated with Shakespeare’s most beloved comedy.
This is not the moonlit romp of flower garlands and fairy mischief. Instead, we are plunged into stark candle-lit white walls and an atmosphere that feels closer to institutional confinement than enchanted forest. An asylum of sorts: sometimes of mischief, more often of misery.
From the outset, dire emotions replace the familiar whimsical nature of this peace. Michael Marcus’ Theseus and Hedydd Dylan’s Hippolyta enter in full-scale warfare. The hostility is immediate and, crucially, unrelenting. The production rarely allows itself a breath, as anger simmers beneath almost every exchange. And whilst that sustained intensity is undeniably a directorial choice from Holly Race Roughan, it leaves very little room for overall contrast.
The lovers remain recognisable: Lou Jackson’s Demetrius; Tiwa Lade’s Hermia; David Olaniregun’s Lysander; and Tara Tijani’s Helena rattle through their quarrels with impressive pace. There are flashes of the youthful immaturity Shakespeare intended peeking through the expected angst, but they’re fleeting. Dialogue is delivered at speed, urgency prioritised over reflection. A piece where pauses exist, but more often for musical interludes or stylised movement rather than to allow discourse to land.
Headlong lives for tension and this is certainly embedded. The threatening undertone lands hard, and at times this dramatic force is somewhat compelling. However, some of the play’s pivotal turning points lose impact in the relentlessness; when everything burns at full flame, it becomes harder to distinguish the initial sparks.
The 11-strong ensemble deserves recognition for their extensive multi-rolling. Lovers morph into fairies, faces reappear in new disguises. The quick changes alone could be an Olympic sport, and these changes are slick and impressively choreographed.
The mechanicals, reimagined here as servers, chefs and staff under the stern command of Theseus and Hippolyta, bring a much-needed tonal shift.
Danny Kirrane’s Bottom is the production’s most reliable source of light. His performance is committed and generously comic, even if the iconic transformation lacks the theatrical flourish one might hope for. When laughter does ripple through the auditorium, it tends to follow his lead. And yet, this is perhaps the production’s central gamble: that comedy feels secondary. Yes there are glimmers of amusement, but they rarely linger before darkness reasserts itself.
Stylistically, the evening is anything but traditional. Contemporary music seeps into the soundscape, interesting choices from Billie Eilish to Robbie Williams. Ballet sequences, led by dancer Dannie Harris, inject an unexpected physical language, and whilst this was beautiful to watch it felt very distant from the overall artistic approach.
And then there was Puck, portrayed by Sergo Vares, becoming less of a mischievous sprite and more of an unsettling ringleader. His presence is coercive, shadowed, at times sinister, with sharp sound effects as a constant reminder of his presence. It’s a striking reinterpretation, though one that may divide audiences.
There’s no denying the ambition. Visually interesting and emotionally heightened, this dream dares to interrogate rather than entertain. For some, that boldness will feel invigorating; for others, it may feel like the heart of the comedy has been executed.
‘The course of true love never did run smooth’ – and here, it seems to trip at every turn. A daring reworking, certainly. A joyful escape? Less so. But theatre is gloriously subjective, so venture into this uneasy dream and make up your own mind.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream is at Leeds Playhouse until Saturday 28 February. Tickets start from £16.50 and available here.
