REVIEW

Misrule and revelry
Ian Spiby

If I had to sum up this production of Twelfth Night in just three words, they would be: creativity, intelligence and inventiveness.

And what’s remarkable is how closely these qualities intertwine throughout the entire performance from the directorial vision to the smallest role on stage.

Directors John Myhill and Rebecca Cockcroft left their indelible mark on every aspect of the show. Their inspired decision to root the production in the play’s reference to “midsummer madness” – and to reimagine Illyria as a kind of sun-soaked, seaside holiday town echoing the spirit of Hi-de-Hi! – gave the piece a delightful sense of misrule and revelry.

Drawing on the ancient tradition of the Feast of Fools, where roles are reversed and norms upended, they created a world where everything – setting, gender, structure – was deliciously topsy-turvy.

This was not Twelfth Night as usual. It was Twelfth Night rethought, reenergised, and reframed – and the results were frequently astonishing. The Directors' ability to think outside the box gave familiar lines and moments a startling freshness.

Take Sir Andrew Aguecheek, for instance. We’re so used to seeing him played as tall, thin, and flaxen-haired – all for the sake of a single line in the play. But Rik E Dean, in collaboration with the directors, dared to defy tradition. His Aguecheek, with a wonderfully ludicrous hairstyle, became a booze-soaked foil to the sly, seasoned rogue that was Sir Toby (Graham Breeze). The contrast was clear, the comedy sharper for it: Sir Toby the wily schemer, Sir Andrew the gormless accomplice.

Graham Breeze as Sir Toby Belch and Rik E Dean as Sir Andrew Aguecheek | Photo by Rebecca Cockcroft

Surprising and magnificent

Holly Hughes Rowlands brought remarkable delicacy and vitality to the role of Viola. Her portrayal steered clear of over-familiarity, allowing the audience to rediscover the character’s emotional vulnerability and wit. Equally refreshing was Helena Enright-King’s take on Feste. So often the clown is portrayed as world-weary, but Helena brought a gleeful mischief to the role – her Feste was impish, charismatic, and thoroughly loveable.

And then came the surprises. Bea Thomas transformed the often-overlooked Fabian into a vibrant, purposeful character. Gemma Knight injected Maria with a knowingness that added layers of intrigue to her scenes, and Kate Morris’s Olivia was so believable in her romantic fervour that one truly empathised with her confusion and longing.

Perhaps the biggest revelation was Alex Rex as Malvolio. Having last seen her as a swooning heroine in a Victorian melodrama, her command of the stage here as the self-important steward was both surprising and magnificent. She inhabited Malvolio’s pomp and vanity with relish, exuding both menace and absurdity in equal measure.

Even in the smallest parts, the cast delivered. Maggie Holland and Carmen Simoni, in an almost wordless double-act, brought such energy and detail to their moments that they felt integral to the production’s texture. Owen Warr, though briefly seen, spoke his lines with an impressive command of Shakespearean rhythm and clarity – a rare gift.

This was not just another Twelfth Night. It was a revelatory reimagining, a celebration of the play’s anarchic heart and comic spirit. John and Rebecca’s vision allowed us to see this classic afresh, as if through newly opened eyes. A truly memorable night at the theatre.

PREVIEW

A licence to misbehave
John Myhill & Rebecca Cockcroft, directors

Twelfth Night being staged in the summer? My masters, are you mad?

If so, there is method in our madness - despite the title, the play makes no reference whatsoever to the "festive period" anywhere within the text, but does make specific references to being in late spring or early/mid-summer.

We have "More matter for a May morning" and "Why, this is very midsummer madness", and the play seems to us to have the feel of a summer seaside resort.

For that reason our version imagines Illyria as a Brighton or Blackpool of the late 1950s, with holiday camps, casinos and the kind of licence to misbehave a seaside trip seems to grant - as seen in day trip scenes in Carry On At Your Convenience when stuffy bosses and downtrodden workers are suddenly all on a level and having fun together.

This is where the real connection to the traditional Twelfth Night comes in, as in England it was, for many years, a festival celebrating topsy-turviness and role reversal -a tradition stretching back at least as far as ancient Rome and their Saturnalia when (moderately) transgressive behaviour was tolerated or even encouraged, and there are many such festivals around the world set at many different times of the year. Sometimes there would be a Lord of Misrule or a King of Fools (interestingly rarely a Lady or Queen!) and the swapping of genders and stations was commonplace, though again more commonly men dressing as women rather than the other way around.

Transgressions and confusions

Twelfth Night the play has many such inversions and swaps, transgressions and confusions, with more than a hint of same-sex attraction and plenty of Feast of Fools type pranks: a woman pretends to be a man; a servant pretends to be her mistress (in letter form at least); another servant aspires to marrying his mistress; and there is plenty of drinking, dancing and revels throughout.

Antonio proclaims his love for Sebastian, and both Orsino and Olivia find themselves attracted to someone either of the same gender as them or pretending to be so.

Whilst this "confusion" is seemingly resolved at the end of the play, it is easy to wonder if all is really settled?

We have completely bought into the spirit of the feast of fools by leaning in to the silly, and celebrating gender fluidity in our casting and our costuming - we hope this all adds to the fun.

There will be cakes and ale...