Aristos are at it again

10 April 2012

The electric wordplay in Rachel Kavanaugh's post-war Much Ado About Nothing takes place between an older and sassier Beatrice and Benedick than usual. He is a Billy Connolly soundalike, with a rogueish air that suggests he took whisky with his mother's milk, while his unlikely lover is a gleaming-eyed vamp with a cigarette-smoked voice, and more than a hint of Marlene Dietrich.

In this enjoyable production, Kavanaugh continues her love affair with the hedonism of the early 20th century aristocracy. Last year's Twelfth Night was set against the appropriately androgynous decade of the Twenties, and now Much Ado About Nothing immerses the audience in the escapist pleasures of the post-war generation, staying true to the after-the-fight frivolity of Shakespeare's original.

Kit Surrey's set is all ornamental lawns and gleaming French windows, serenely accompanied by the clink of brandy glasses and the plop of tennis balls. The play boasts a wealth of ancient comedy tricks to spice up the contrasting love stories of Beatrice and Benedick, and the inevitably more insipid Claudio and Hero.

Any director taking up the play's challenge has to judge the momentum carefully, setting off each comedic device like a spinning plate so that the overall effect is a whirl of mistaken identities, contrived overheard conversations, verbal joustings, fumbling malapropisms and crossed-wire cock-ups.

It takes time for that momentum to be established in this production, which initially moves with a leadenness relieved only by the witty jabbing exchanges of Nicola Redmond as Beatrice and Tom Mannion as Benedick. Gradually, however, the charm starts to filter through, and by the beginning of the second half, when a Dad's Army-like night-watch appears on stage, all the plates are spinning.

There is an unexpected highlight when Tim Godwin, as Balthasar, sings a short song about love, creating an atmosphere of concentrated pleasure. Otherwise, save Redmond and Mannion, the evening does not specialise in outstanding individual performances: Sally Hawkins is good, but thrives on gutsier roles than this simpering innocent Hero, while Harry Burton was better as the romantic lead Orsino last year, than as his up-tight villain, Don John.

The strength in Kavanaugh's production is in the ensemble work, which captures the carnivalesque qualities that bring a party-like pleasure to an evening in Regent's Park - especially when portraying the ludicrously overheard conversations. It continues a tradition that is as much part of summer as the first glass of Pimms.

Much Ado About Nothing

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