Review: A Midsummer Night’s Dream

What I was expecting from this early-midsummer night’s production of one of Shakespeare’s best-loved comedies, was perhaps not an on-stage rendition of ‘My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding’. This is, however, what I was met with. Caravans substituted Ancient Greek palaces, tracksuit bottoms replaced togas, and the weeds of Athens represented themselves as honorary gang member tattoos. Sounds interesting enough, right? And at points this adaptation did seem quite illuminating, as Dunster drew upon issues of violence against women in patriarchal gypsy societies, making a black-eyed Hippolyta the victim of an abusive relationship with gang leader Theseus. This interpretation also made sense of Hermia’s father’s refusal to let her marry Lysander, as he physically pushed her away from him.

But, at most other points, namely the wedding dance sequences where the ladies of the cast emerged in the tackiest, shortest, most low-cut and unflattering sequinned dresses I have ever seen on stage or anywhere, and crunked out to ‘Sexy and I know it’, the connection seemed rather more ridiculing than sympathetic. It’s one thing going to a play about a society you feel a part of and having a chortle, but looking round at the obviously middle-class audience of Regent’s Park open air theatre, it really felt like more of a case of ‘us’ and ‘them’.

It struck me as odd to have a piece of theatre so obviously aimed at the middle classes that so openly mocked the lower classes. But hey, if a TV programme can get away with such blatant political incorrectness and group stereotyping (‘The only way is Essex’, ‘Made in Chelsea’, as well as the aforementioned ‘My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding’), then perhaps theatre can too? Perhaps that is the only way theatre can keep up with its misbehaving counterparts in the entertainment industry?

Now, it was sometimes funny, with Helena chasing Demetrius whilst teetering around on heels too high for her to even walk in, and with an opera-style rendition of ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ performed on top of a caravan with Thisbe wearing a traffic-cone-cum-veil on her head. (And Bottom’s t-shirt imprinted with the slogan ‘Kiss my ass’ was also a nice touch.)

But too often it just lacked a whole lot of necessary subtlety, feeling the need to spell out the comedy in raunchy slapstick. The rude mechanicals were hardly distinguishable from the rest of the cast because the whole thing was hammed up to the max. It really didn’t make sense for Hermia to leap on and straddle Lysander whilst telling him to ‘lie further off’, but as cheap laughs seemed to be the main priority, that is what Hermia did. The appearance of a purple dildo in Titania’s seduction of Bottom didn’t even get cheap laughs – everyone just seemed a bit bemused.

One elderly member of the audience thought it a ‘disgrace’ that Titania should rip off her corset and bear her naked fairy breasts to Bottom while there were children around. Although I was not as outraged as the offended O.A.P., I did think it strange that there were quite so many sexual overtones in a production that’s style of humour seemed to be directly aimed at children.

The last thought I had, was why Shakespeare chose to write a comedy that basically takes the piss out of two things one would imagine were very important to him: love and theatre. Why make fun of Pyramus and Thisbe’s ill-fated end in the very same year that you have aggrandized the star-crossed lovers Romeo and Juliet? Why make fun of theatre by having all the rude mechanicals prancing around twattishly when you are William Shakespeare? Perhaps for simple monetary purposes, to write what he thought the public wanted, perhaps for a change. But whatever it was, this production, with its focus on cheap gags and dry humping, didn’t quite clear this up for me.

Although some of the acting seemed a tad too overblown and garish, the set and the costumes were a treat. Titania’s floor-length dreadlocks and Puck’s Halloween style mask and hoodie were impressive along with the purple smoky haze which arose whenever the intoxicating plant was produced. The progression into the magical forest was also master-planned and was shown by having one of the caravans lifted into the air to hover over the set in a very trippy way, while the other caravan opened up into flower-decorated grassland.

Sadly, the stage set-up and wardrobe of this production seemed to be the only things ‘dreamy’, or tasteful, about it.

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre, London

2 June – 5 September

Photos: © openairtheatre.org