Review: Twelfth Night

This article first appeared on the Oxford Opening Night website on 10 June 2016.

Garden plays are among the hardest to get right. Making a good play is difficult enough without having to worry about the weather, hay fever, and the possibility of an unscripted entrance by the local wildlife. Luckily, Worcester College’s Twelfth Night pulls through these challenges to create a light, breezy, raucously entertaining production. Complete with lutes, doublets, hoses and ruffs (not to mention a top-notch cast), Fishbowl Productions deliver all the bells and whistles of a proper Shakespearean romp, even if it occasionally suffers from over-complicated staging.

The plot is standard Shakespearean comedy. What starts out as a bit of light cross-dressing rapidly snowballs into a tale of lost family, mistaken identity, comic violence and passionate love. There are bold heroes, proud servants, drunken nobles, and a fool running around generally undermining the hell out of everybody. The plot builds to the traditional multiple marriage, and along the way there’s plenty of clever wordplay, slapstick sword fighting, and even a bit of topical humour to keep the audience engaged. The energetic pacing and bawdy jokes of the first half contrast nicely with the second half’s slightly darker tinge, especially in the scenes where the servant Malvolio is duped by arrogant nobles Belch and Aguecheek.

But while the individual scenes are well-staged, the overall structure is frustrating. This is a ‘promenade’ production, meaning different scenes play out in different locations, with the audience constantly shifting to follow the actors. This does nothing but create awkward gaps as viewers migrate, undermining the flow and fast pace crucial to good comedy. Scenes will start with half the audience still on the other side of the lawn, and the scenery occasionally blocks the audience’s view. This inattention to detail suggests a traditional stage might have better suited the production, and it would certainly have been far less distracting and inconsistent.

The cast, on the other hand, are solid across the board. Rebecca Bowen is marvellous as cross-dressing leading lady Viola, part relatable everywoman and part pantomime hero. Adam Diaper’s Malvolio effortlessly shifts between the sublime and the ridiculous, and Indyana Schnieder makes a delightful Feste, with great comic timing and a lovely singing voice. Alice Moore is wonderfully waspish as the widow Olivia, moving, Maggie Smith-like, from dry amusement to love-struck bliss. But the undoubted star of the show is one Coco Chanel, a West Highland Terrier making his stage debut as the Countess’s lapdog, who provides a number of unscripted laughs on top of generally looking cute.

Subtract the faults of its staging and Twelfth Night is damn near perfect. A calm, confident execution of an extremely tricky style, it balances a light tone with some refreshingly dark elements. The result is a satisfying evening’s entertainment, and worth seeing for the sheer raw talent on display. By turns charming, funny, poignant and edifying, Twelfth Night is the high watermark by which Oxford’s summer Shakespeares will be judged.

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