TRIUMPHANT, overpaid footballers, dodgy backroom staff and scantily-clad WAGs all indulging in partying, banter and romantic shenanigans – if all this sounds distantly familiar then it’s because 400-odd years ago Shakespeare got there first.
The beautiful game meets the charm of unexpected love in a production which really ought to be naff, but actually isn’t.
From the distant stands, down the players’ tunnel to the communal bath, this whole experience shouts football. Many of us will have been to football matches that were less like a football match than this. Only the smell of fried onions and the opportunity to place a half-time flutter on the marital outcome is missing.
No detail has been overlooked; no idea, however daft or far-fetched appears to have been turned down. Authentic kits, water carriers and physios, media presence and WAGs’ costumes – this is premier league design work from Jon Bausor.
Going the whole hog with a gimmicky setting in Shakespeare is often tricky. We’ve seen enough bold undertakings which, though they seem a great and valid idea in Act One, are often a millstone round the neck of the production by Act Four.
Not so here because at the end of the day (as every football pundit likes to repeat) this is a very funny production which may owe its looks to football but owes its wit to the Bard’s timeless comedy.
Thankfully theatre doesn’t have the concept of a man-of-the-match and this hugely entertaining company is too uniformly talented to need stars, but praise must go to a few standout performances.
Beatrice (Freema Agyeman) and Benedick (Nick Blood) bring a modern, confident slant to their on-off sparring romance. Two splendid scenes of concealed plot-setting and a couple of wonderfully awkward reluctant professions of love are a joy to watch.
Eleanor Worthington-Cox as Hero and Daniel Adeosun as Claudio both shine but in truth everyone from the Count down to the coppers deserves their spot in the squad.
Wonderful touches abound. The karaoke-style partying, the highly permissive attitude to modernising phrases with Messina’s nobility frequently dubbed boss or guv, the inclusion of social media and deep fake elements – it’s all playing fast and loose with loyalty to the text but somehow it all works and nothing jars.
Michael Longhurst’s direction is slick and brilliantly detailed. The pace keeps up for the whole ninety minutes and more and – like the best sporting encounters – nobody is heading back to the car before the final whistle.
Perhaps Shakespearean comedy is, as the TV pundits insist, all about the results game. And this one is a winner in anyone’s book.
