TWELFTH NIGHT

Kew Gardens

★★★★

“a delight to watch, under the stars, where magic blends with mayhem”

The Australian Shakespeare Company’s press release promises to bring an “eventful” (their quotation marks) production of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night” to the grounds of Kew Gardens this summer. For once, this is no mere promotional embellishment. Their lively take on the bard’s romantic comedy is, indeed, chock-full of memorable moments and offbeat surprises. They are the Lords of Misrule. Shakespeare would applaud their sense of mischief and bear no grudges whatsoever as they happily run amok with all the liberties they have taken.

It is a kind of creative chaos, but one that still allows the clarity of the text cut through. Each performer has a firm hold of the rhythm and a solid understanding of the verse and the prose. Occasionally reason gets left behind as some choices come with quite a hefty question mark. The shaky foundations, however, are strengthened by the brilliance of a top-notch cast who perform with the unbridled energy of rock musicians let loose at a summer festival. The tone is complemented by the uncredited costume design – although ‘design’ is a loose definition. A wonderful mix of New Romantic, Glam Rock, Commedia dell’arte, Alice-In-Wonderland and travelling circus. Viola (Louise Hoare) and Sebastian (Scott Middleton) are visually indistinguishable with their scarlet Ziggy Stardust mullets and Aladdin Sane lightning bolt (the face paint works better for Viola/Cesario, indicating – as it did with Bowie – the split identity of a new persona; but maybe we’re overthinking here).

The music, which veers towards an acoustic-driven folksy vibe, doesn’t always follow the visual aesthetic of the show. Alex Cooper’s Feste wear’s his guitar like a third arm and leads the musical numbers with his commanding singing voice. He wouldn’t be out of place in the back room of an Irish pub, although on occasion he leads the ensemble into anthemic choruses that feel like ‘Live Aid’ has gate-crashed a party at Steve Strange’s Blitz Club circa 1980. In another company’s hands this could be met with bewilderment, but the end effect here is quite magical. It is a touch odd, too, to witness ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ during a heatwave on the last day of July, yet it is as funny as it is incongruous.

Director Glenn Elston’s lively staging puts as much, if not more, focus on the household and supporting figures as the principal roles. Sir Toby Belch, despite being three sheets to the wind, rules the roost. Jackson McGovern plays the loveable rogue to perfection, fuelled by cheap wine. Along with Tony Rive’s Sir Andrew Aguecheek they make a wonderful double act; magnificently rounded off with Monica Nash’s Maria and Larissa Teale’s Fabian on full comedic form. The foursome are clearly having the time of their lives. Olivia is a dark and sultry Goth in mourning while Malvolio is a toff in a morning suit – both truly relishing their roles. Nicole Nabout slightly overdoes Olivia’s transition from ice-maiden to vixen when she falls for the mistaken identity of Ceasario, pursuing him/her with a ‘Carry On’ bawdiness. But in more restrained moments her sensual charisma shines. Maverick Newman’s Malvolio is suitably uptight until he uncoils, inviting at first our laughter and then our sympathy.

The anarchic humour, which is sometimes overpowering, still allows for subtleties; such as the sexual ambiguities. Hugh Sexton, as Orsino, conveys a certain confusion, unsure if Cesario is a boy or a girl (Bowie’s ‘Rebel Rebel’ comes to mind… so maybe there is thought behind the make-up). But if the characters are in a whirl, the audience are in a cyclone. The second act has a tendency to descend into full-on slapstick surrealism, throwing in some Southern-Gothic, Voodoo, gospel and wizardry into the mix. Oh, and an Italianate police officer in shiny blue hotpants.

The Australian Shakespeare Company’s “Twelfth Night” is certainly a rich tapestry. We are often not sure exactly what is going on in the minds of its creators. But it is a delight to watch, under the stars, where magic blends with mayhem. Just as Viola says of Feste; ‘this fellow is wise enough to play the fool; and do that well craves a kind of wit’, this adaptation is very silly indeed, but it is clear that intelligence, wit and profound skill are the driving force behind its nonsense and absurdity. A wonderful night of ‘midsummer madness’.

TWELFTH NIGHT

Kew Gardens

Reviewed on 31st July 2026

by Jonathan Evans

TWELFTH NIGHT

★★

“The physicality is wonderful, yet there is a creative laziness that obstructs the romanticism, and the magic”

There are worse places to be, during this current heat wave, than sitting on a garden bench under the trees in the gardens of St Paul’s Church, tucked away behind the cafes and shops of Covent Garden. Known affectionately as the Actor’s Church, there are memorials to stage and screen legends, including Charlie Chaplin, Vivien Leigh and Boris Karloff. The home of candlelight concerts and theatrical performances, its Portico façade is also the backdrop for the renowned street performances that attract crowds from around the globe. The churchyard can only be reached via the recessed, inconspicuous gates on the other side. A van selling cool drinks is parked close to the steps, while theatre goers slowly find their seats. The sun has dipped behind the skyline, but the day’s heat still rests on the grass, and the church bells strike seven, heralding Nonsense Theatre’s take on Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night”.

Their entrance is a touch subdued, diffident even, in contrast to their promotional pitch which promises a mix of Monty Python, Robin Hood, Pirates of the Caribbean, the Princess Bride and a Knight’s Tale. Not just a blend of influences but, in their own words, the ‘lovechild’ of this orgy of absurdity. A grand claim. There is a fine line between nonsense and lack of meaning, however, and this company err towards the latter. Too many references evoke a lack of thought rather than any cohesive decision making. They are on a mini tour of country gardens, halls and castle grounds, but the luxury of the peaceful, English countryside hasn’t prepared them for the bustle of the metropolis. With no amplification, they struggle to be heard above the buskers in the piazza and the street sounds. With only a couple of exceptions, the eight-strong cast appear to find no need to adapt to the acoustics, nor – as it happens – to make particular use of the surroundings on offer. The show has the air of a group of friends pitching up in somebody’s garden to throw ideas around.

Niamh Handley-Vaughan directs (she also plays Maria) but there are all the hallmarks of a collaborative effort. Albeit one with little time, or budget, to consolidate the melting pot of ingredients. Too many cooks is a phrase that comes to mind. We are shipwrecked on the ancient and dream-like kingdom of Illyria, where the natives sing Irish sea shanties as well as modern pop songs. Olivia (Jericho Taylor) is dressed like Guinevere but elsewhere there is little to suggest medievalism – unless you count the clacking of coconut shells to conjure a horse’s gait. Malvolio is Malvolia (Chloe Orrock, who doubles as Antonio… renamed Antonia) but, although the gender is also switched, Tobi (sic) Belch (Kitty Mason) is still a ‘sir’. Blind casting is stretched to the limit when it comes to the twins; Viola and Sebastian. A brave decision to subvert the notion of physical resemblance, which could enhance the comedy of errors wrought by mistaken identity, yet it fails to buoy up our suspension of disbelief.

Despite the occasional gender-flips, the subtleties of Shakespeare’s homoeroticism fall flat. But then again, so do many of his lines. The bizarre soundtrack barely reaches the front row of the benched seating, played by various cast members like teenagers tentatively strumming in their bedroom. Projection appears to be an alien concept to this troupe. Although Orrock’s Malvolia stands out, injecting some much-needed midsummer madness into the evening. But even so, the comedy is a touch contrived.

It’s a long night. By interval the church clock is striking nine. The shadows are stretching across the lawn as dusk dims nature’s lights. This could become a magical moment, but aside from the church’s own festoons, the company plough on without rhyme, reason or lighting design. There is plenty of energy, and also plenty of audience members who reward the performers’ enthusiasm with genuine affection. The physicality is wonderful, yet there is a creative laziness that obstructs the romanticism, and the magic. And, yes, it could be shortened. We should be left wanting more by being offered less. But ultimately, we were left hoping that the curtain call precedes the ten o’clock chiming of the church bells. It does, but only just.

Tag Archives: Shakespeare

TWELFTH NIGHT

★★★★

Kew Gardens

TWELFTH NIGHT

Kew Gardens

★★★★

“a delight to watch, under the stars, where magic blends with mayhem”