As You Like It

Belvoir, 2011

Photo by Heidrun Löhr for Belvoir.

Characterised by a theatrical delight and a rare whimsy which is so often missing in modern interpretations of Shakespeare, let alone his comedies, Eamon Flack’s As You Like It delighted in the language, in the words, the rhythms, the theatrical possibilities inherently written into one of Shakespeare’s greatest tour de force’s of theatrical disguise. Switching the genders of characters made no difference to the text, and there was a rambunctious playfulness which even the staunchest purists would’ve found hard to deny or ignore. When the cast appeared as sheep during the interval, the theatrical illusion of a pastoral idyll was complete. The perfect play for summer, it was everything modern Shakespeare should be: smart, funny, sexy, intelligent, respectful, clever, and above all, thoroughly Shakespearean.

Julius Caesar

Bell Shakespeare, 2011

Photo by Fotogroup for Bell Shakespeare.

Peter Evans’ production of Shakespeare’s tragedy deployed his (apparently-trademark) fascination with Meyerhold’s movement technique to haunting effect. The actors would coalesce and scatter across the stage, ringed by black office chairs and a Roman column, slowing down – almost to a stop – as they reached the other side, and then continuing off. Caesar’s assassination was a rare moment of poetry – handfuls of white powdered milk thrown in place of knives, actors jumping and throwing each other away from the stabbed emperor. Reminiscent of modern politics, Kate Mulvany’s Cassius and Colin Moody’s Brutus stole the show, and it was a rare example of a production which intelligently captured the current political mood in such a raw, poetic and theatrical way that you couldn’t help but make this tragedy exciting and profoundly gripping.

Faustus

Bell Shakespeare, 2011

Photo by Rob Maccoll for Queensland Theatre Company.

While strictly not Shakespeare, Michael Gow’s adaptation of Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus fused the Elizabethan tragedy with Goethe’s Faust, as well as fragments of puppetry, opera, video projections and a devilishly good dose of audacity, while seeming to utilise every theatrical style imaginable. John Bell dancing in a steel-blue suit as Mephistopheles, Ben Winspear’s rock-god Faustus; a trio of devils singing a Schubert lieder, and a beautifully school-girlish Gretchen in Kathryn Marquet, gave us a vision of hell quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It was sexy, dangerous, edgy and above all, deliciously good fun.

Much Ado About Nothing

Bell Shakespeare, 2011

Photo by Wendy McDougall for Bell Shakespeare.

Directed by John Bell, Shakespeare’s battle-of-the-wits (and -sexes), suitably played by Toby Schmitz and Blazey Best, erupted in a riot of triumph, colour and joy, set in a mid-twentieth century Italian villa. Beatrice and Benedict’s verbal sparring was a match for their physical antics, and as they fell for each other despite their best intentions and the infidelity plot untangled, you felt the passions, the heart and the life at the centre of Shaksespeare’s great verbal duel.