What better way to spark up a cold and wet Midwinter Night’s Theatregoing than with a jolly Midsummer Night’s Dream? A tonic for the senses and a giggle for the soul – and let’s face it, we could all do with some of that nowadays. However, Shakespeare’s early hit isn’t all beer and skittles. Egeus threatens his daughter Hermia with all the force of the Athenian law if she does not give in to his demands that she marry his choice of suitor, Demetrius, rather than her choice, Lysander. If she disobeys, then it’s the option of death or get thee to a nunnery (wrong play, but you get my drift). Not many giggles in that.

Meanwhile, things are not that harmonious in the Land of the Fairies either. Oberon and Titania have quarrelled over an Indian changeling whom Oberon wants as a page, but Titania wants to keep because his mother was one of her worshippers. Like Egeus, Oberon chooses to wreak revenge and punish his Queen by making her love someone (or indeed, something) that she wouldn’t normally choose to love – the first thing she sees when waking up from a drug-induced coma – thus humiliating and ridiculing her. Not many giggles in that either.

Except, of course, there are; loads of them, as it’s Bottom the weaver whom she first sees, but not before Oberon’s impish partner-in-mischief, Puck, has transformed him into an ass. Bottom is one of the troupe of rude mechanicals who are rehearsing a play for Theseus’ and Hippolyta’s upcoming nuptials, thereby creating a link between the court and fairyland. Anyway, I shouldn’t be telling you the plot – you either already know it or, if you don’t, for heaven’s sake, this play has been performed since 1596, where on earth have you been all this time?

Director Eleanor Rhode’s production largely dismisses the danger lurking beneath the surface of Hermia’s and Titania’s predicaments and goes straight for the funnybone. The production relies heavily on three Ms: modernity, music and magic – and it’s a winning combination. The costumes are contemporary, and the characterisations distinctly 21^st century. Will Gregory’s incidental music is more than just incidental music. It’s instantly arresting, powerful, tuneful and, frankly, worthy of an album release.

And the magic is, well, magic. John Bulleid has created a genuinely magical landscape as the setting, from puffball lighting all around the stage that changes colour with the moods, to vibrating seats, plastic balls descending from the Gods, darting lights, twirling flowers in the ether, characters that levitate or disappear beneath the stage, and much more. Perhaps the biggest surprise of all is that none of this feels gimmicky. It takes you in and treats you to three hours of a magical environment that feels completely in keeping with the play.

There’s also plenty of magic from the excellent performances. The evening starts with a hilarious scene between Bally Gill’s Theseus and Sirine Saba’s Hippolyta; him, awkward, bumbling around the stage, eager to please like Rishi Sunak in pinching shoes, and her, serious, judgmental, realising that if there’s a job to be done round here, she’d better do it herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that scene performed with such instant appeal and humour whilst still giving a direct insight into their relationship. The power is reversed in their characterisations as Oberon and Titania, where he is master of all – and everyone – he surveys, and she is subservient – until she gets her hands on Bottom, so to speak.

The change-partners foursome of Hermia, Helena, Demetrius and Lysander are all played with an eye to the humorous potential with a particularly physically comic performance from Ryan Hutton as Lysander, hurling himself (literally) into amorous enthusiasm while Dawn Sievewright’s Hermia battles against a progressively heavier rucksack. Boadicea Ricketts’ Helena adopts an Only Way is Essex style – the only thing missing were the occasional wotevs or you go gurl. Neil McCaul plays the gruff Egeus with disciplinary strictness – although his facial expressions during the Pyramus and Thisbe debacle are a sheer delight. Adrian Richards steals all his scenes as a Philostrate who’s the ultimate MC; I’m sure in his spare time he introduces boxing matches.

Helen Monks makes a great Peter (or in this case Rita) Quince, enthusiastically shepherding her team of budding actors and shaping them up to performance level – and providing hilarious stage management during that final scene. Laurie Jamieson, Mitesh Soni, Tom Xander and Emily Cundick give brilliant support as the thespian tradesmen; Ms Cundick’s appearance as the Wall will live on as a comic highlight for many a moon. For our performance, Premi Tamang, who normally plays Starveling, took on the role of Puck and was marvellously mischievous throughout, and everyone puts in a terrific and committed performance.

But the evening belongs to Mathew Baynton as Bottom. He makes the over-ambitious wannabe star truly shine with his brilliant physicality; and portraying Pyramus with pompous, Nureyev-like grace is a stroke of comic brilliance. Be prepared for a wonderfully over-the-top death that has you cringing in your seat. It is probably the funniest Pyramus and Thisbe I’ve ever seen.

A feast of technical delights, with superb lighting, sound, visual and magical effects. They chose to accentuate the comedy – and boy did they hit the target. This dream of a Dream runs until 30^th March – do not hesitate to buy your tickets.

Production photos by Pamela Raith

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