Twelfth Night, Castle Theatre Company, Castle Great Hall, 18 – 20 June 2009.

            Twelfth Night, Castle Theatre’s summer Shakespeare, will be touring England and America later this year, and so bore a heavier responsibility than is usual for alfresco thesping. Of course, I say ‘alfresco’, but I saw the show in the Great Hall, the Durham run having unfortunately missed the English summer (which this year apparently lasted from June 6^th to 10^th ).

The plot of Twelfth Night, or What you Will is Shakespearean comedy by rote. Siblings separated in traumatic circumstances? Check. A character disguising themselves as a member of the opposite sex, and attracting unwanted attention from a member of their own sex? Check. Drunken aristocratic wastrels hatching schemes which serve little purpose other than to advance the plot? Check. All’s well that ends well? Check (sort of – see below).

            In theory, you could treat this material in a more solemn fashion, emphasising those emotionally weighted moments which do occur, but overall it’s quite silly, and director Oscar Blustin made a well-advised choice to play up this aspect of the script. To do this without descending into complete farce is quite difficult, and it was to Blustin’s credit that the production successfully negotiated this distinction. The characterisation was the strongest aspect of the direction, showcasing an array of clearly defined comic parts and different types of physicality which, for the most part, did not merge into generic tomfoolery. Ben Starr’s elastic movements, variety of gurns and clear singing voice were put to good use as Feste, the fool. Harry Bresslaw, a relative newcomer in the extremely experienced cast, was excellent as a louche Sir Andrew Augecheek, his camp manner and romantic gestures bringing to mind one of PG Wodehouse’s stable of deluded nitwits. Gabby Wass was punchy and focused as Maria, her sense of purpose contrasting with the high-jinks of those around her.

Kieran Sims was a delightfully stiff and unyielding Malvolio. His upright presence worked perfectly in his straight scenes, and was nicely developed when he chances across the letter planted by Maria. His behaviour was ridiculous in this and subsequent scenes, but was within the basic characterisation, which brought out the humour from the character rather than superimposing it. My favourite moment of the play was the wonderfully condescending manner in which he dropped a ring for Cesario, where his timing and delivery wrung the maximum comic effect from a very simple action.

            Another performance which developed comedy neatly from an initially more sober presentation was provided by Rebecca MacKinnon. The smooth grandeur of Olivia’s early scenes dissolved into girlish flirtation with Lily Howkins’ Viola/Cesario, which just about stayed on the right side of being completely ridiculous. Mike Shaw attempted something similar as Orsino, but was less successful, largely because his initial despondency wasn’t as convincing, being somewhat clownish to begin with. But subsequent scenes brought out his droll humour, particularly when he became lost in Feste’s Damien Rice-style singing. Lily Howkins was not quite clear as Cesario – I would have assumed that a woman passing herself off as a pageboy would exaggerate certain masculine aspects of her manner and movements. Nor did Howkins play up her femininity. The effect was rather neutral, and felt slightly out of place in such a comic production. On the other hand, it’s arguable that the way she played the role allowed for a more amusing sexual tension between her and Orsino, who relies on Cesario as a confidante and go-between while Viola has fallen in love with him.

            While the characterisation was generally strong, I felt the direction was weaker in other aspects. This was at least partly because of the indoor staging. The blocking was very flat, with the cast confined to a very shallow staging area, which made the movements in the final scene somewhat wooden and awkward. The opening scenes were distorted by echoing, the cast taking some time to get to grips with the acoustics of the Great Hall. This also took some of the sting out of the exchanges between Sir Andrew and Sir Toby Belch (Michael Umney). Several of their scenes together were almost hilarious, but didn’t fully work, in part because of the acoustics, but also because Sir Toby, while delivered with plenty of conviction and having some choice lines, didn’t feel as precisely drawn as Sir Andrew. This was the performance I felt suffered most from being transplanted from the Fellow’s Garden. Umney’s particular brand of floppy drunkenness seemed stagey and slightly generic when delivered indoors, but will probably work better amidst shrubbery and Anglophile Americans.

            Apart from certain comic exchanges, the set and props lost some of their impact in the change in location. The backdrop was provided by three enormous umbrellas, placed at angles to create a sort of tented backstage area. This look will be striking in the right setting, and perhaps could be exploited more than at present; the umbrellas are a potentially very flexible design, and could be used as entrances, or to create more intimate settings. A number of ordinary umbrellas were deployed as props, and again one got the feeling that more can be got from them. They only really made an impact when deployed as weapons in the various duels and fight scenes towards the end.

            The play closes on a somewhat contrived happy ending, with the various romantic interests conveniently pairing off. An odd note is the way that the subplot featuring Malvolio is conspicuously left unresolved: he stalks off promising to have revenge on everyone. It’s possible that this was Shakespeare’s way of indicating his unhappiness with the strict demands of contemporary comedy. But while the form has its limitations, it can deliver a great deal of fun when managed as adroitly as it was here.

Donndhadh O’Conaill