Tag Archives: William Shakespeare


Much Ado About Nothing


Jack Studio Theatre

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING at the Jack Studio Theatre




“Musical interludes are nicely performed with some strong vocals”


Outdoor specialists Bear in the Air Productions bring their summer production inside to the intimacy of the Jack Studio Theatre. Pared down to just six players by Director Heather Simpkin and with a running time of less than two hours, it’s a merry romp through Shakespeare’s popular comedy. But it doesn’t transfer inside well: the space is cramped compared to the great outdoors and, after a long and hot summer season, the ensemble appears tired. Simpkin’s adaptation works well though. With some major cuts to the text, and important lines reassigned to different characters, the plot rolls through apace. This does though leave little space for characters to breathe or for us to see gradual changes in their development. This is particularly a loss when it comes to the all-important exchanges between our heroes Beatrice and Benedick.

The entire cast is almost ever-present on stage, often taking seats at the back when not directly involved in the action. Hannah Eggleton (Beatrice) has a huge presence here, actively listening to the goings-on and reacting accordingly. There’s many a smile, nod and knowing look towards the audience, perhaps more than necessary in this space. She is at her most convincing when defending the wronged Hero and her demand to ‘kill Claudio’ is chillingly done. Ross Telfer (Benedick), with an Errol Flynn moustache and wispy facial hair, plays the seasoned bachelor closer to ‘less than a man’ than expected and is more foolish than erudite.

In a rather nice doubling, these two actors also appear as the bumbling members of the Watch under the leadership of Chief Scout Dogberry (Conor Cook). In a notoriously difficult role Cook plays the troubled character as more quirky than tragic. He also doubles in the roles of Friar – nicely done – and the villain Don John. A black beret and dark sunshades provide the visual clues of John’s inherent nastiness but we would benefit from seeing him as more overtly wicked.

Megan King (Hero & Borachio) is both the innocent blushing beauty – played suitably coyly – and the servant responsible for acting out the charade that leads to Hero’s disgrace. The latter role, dressed in flat cap and Barbour jacket, requires a more masculine or conniving approach. Toby George-Waters (Claudio) gives the performance of the night as Hero’s would-be wooer and then accuser. His initial boyish enthusiasm to seeing a pretty girl contrasts well with his later despair and George-Waters is convincing throughout.

Much of the work of holding this condensed adaption together falls upon the reliable Charles Stobert (Don Pedro). In the central scene of the evening, Pedro and Claudio create the opportunity for mayhem with a traditional moving garden trellis scene in which to trick Benedick and a more ambitious hiding beneath a picnic rug scene for Beatrice. In a production that is generally rather static, these scenes stand out for their stagecraft, well-executed.

Musical interludes are nicely performed with some strong vocals, especially from Stobert, and decent harmonies. The song of the night, Chuck Berry’s ‘You Never Can Tell’ (reprising its use as a dance floor filler in the film Pulp Fiction) is a surprisingly relevant inclusion. Well sung, but dancing could do with improvement!

Brevity is at the soul of this production. It isn’t an especially deep reading of the play – there isn’t the time – but the adaptation for just six players works well. Better seen outside though, where it belongs, on a warm summer’s evening.



Reviewed on 25th August 2022

by Phillip Money

Photography courtesy Bear In The Air Productions




Previously reviewed at this venue:

Holst: The Music in the Spheres | ★★★★★ | January 2022
Payne: The Stars are Fire | ★★★ | January 2022
Richard II | ★★★★★ | February 2022


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Edinburgh Festival Fringe

HAMLET at Edinburgh Festival Fringe





“a fitting expression of the artistry of two men who have had long and extraordinary careers”


There is so much to admire and celebrate about the achievements of Ian McKellen, actor, and Peter Schaufuss, dancer, and even William Shakespeare, dramatist, for that matter. It seems like a no-brainer, therefore, to put all three together for a seventy five minute performance in the visually stunning setting of Ashton Hall in St. Stephen’s Theatre in Edinburgh. And it is an extraordinary experience, but not the kind you might be anticipating.

Firstly, there is the building. Approaching St Stephens from the street, it rises up before you like a sanctified apparition of Hamlet’s father’s ghost. The warm welcome the staff extend as you enter, contrasts nicely with the austere lines of the interiors, which set designer Ben Rogers wisely imitates in his bare bones setting for this production of Hamlet. The whole production is a feast for the eyes as you’d expect. It is a ballet, after all. The only words spoken on stage come from McKellen, who has lost none of his ability to take any overly familiar word, and imbue it with fresh meaning.

Filing into the auditorium, you are met with black backdrops, a white textured tapestry, and two banks of shrouded figures with tall Jacobean hats and dim candles glowing in their hands. It’s an arresting image, and sets the mood. The music, composed by Ethan Lewis Maltby, adds to the sense of impending doom. When the figures begin at last to move, and circle the performance space, you know you are about to witness tragedy. On this stage, therefore, it is possible to meet a bifurcated Hamlet, composed equally of dancer Johan Christiansen, and actor Ian McKellen. Dressed alike, varying from matching beanies, to multicolored costumes more reminiscent of court jesters than princes, the costumes aren’t always successful, but they do allow freedom of movement as McKellen, the older, wiser prince, tries to marshal the energy of Christiansen, his much younger, and much more impetuous, self. What gradually emerges in this version of Hamlet then, is a series of vignettes; dancing punctuated by the spoken word. It’s a chance to watch a series of beautiful pas de deux between Hamlet and Ophelia. Claudius and Gertrude, dressed in scarlet, are also an eye-catching couple, and command attention at the centre of their court. But without Shakespeare’s words, it would be difficult to see where this tragedy is going. So much is cut from the script, and that can be frustrating. Fortunately, McKellen is on stage most of the time to guide you through the action.

As drama, this production of Hamlet is obviously incomplete. It is more successful as ballet, and the dancers of the Edinburgh Festival Ballet, under the direction of Peter Schaufuss, are beautifully choreographed. The movements are a satisfying combination of athleticism and fluidity. The grace comes just as much from the stillness as the movement, which suits a great tragedy. This production of Hamlet does indeed have a sense of ripeness—a fitting expression of the artistry of two men who have had long and extraordinary careers.

But that, paradoxically, is where the McKellen/Schaufuss Hamlet parts company with Shakespeare’s. Because we shouldn’t forget that the tragedy of Hamlet is the tragedy of a young man who never gets to become the king he should have been. And it’s the older generation, sadly, that has created the mess the prince has to clean up. McKellen’s Hamlet in this production seems to get that, but like the ghost of his father, can only prompt from the sidelines. And the energy of youth, without the experience of age, can only do so much.

See this version of Hamlet for its austere beauty. You’ll be haunted by the images and the sounds. Ghosts abound.



Reviewed 5th August 2022

by Dominica Plummer


Photography by Devin de Vil


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