Much Ado About Nothing at Theatre Royal Drury Lane

Those with little stomach for the insistent modernisation of old texts will likely feel queasy immediately upon entrance to Lloyd’s latest staging of the Bard, greeted as they are by the sound of fizzy dance beats all but ricocheting off the theatre walls (Pump Up the Jam, meet Shakespeare), along with coloured lights and disco balls suspended far overhead. Their trepidation may turn to panic when the show kicks off by launching into an 80s power ballad under a gentle shower of pink confetti, promptly cutting itself short with the sharp ding of a text alert. These kinds of self-conscious, Not Your Grandma’s Shakespeare flourishes are, at this point, hardly radical, but they almost feel so coming from the now infamously spartan brand of director Jamie Lloyd. Over time, Lloyd’s style of determined subtraction – the nose and swords from Cyrano de Bergerac, the household finery from A Doll’s House – to the point of leaving the stage entirely bare has proven a curse or blessing depending on the material at hand. Depending on your taste, his approach has either unearthed new layers of primal feeling in musty old writings or drained them of their life force altogether. When contrasting the electricity of his James McAvoy-fronted Cyrano with last year’s oddly academic-feeling Romeo and Juliet, perhaps both. That Lloyd would take aim at the funny bone with one of Shakespeare’s best-known ensemble comedies seemed a curious left turn, and for much of its first act, the new production bares such apprehension out.

For all the pop and colour of the costuming, there is little more on Much Ado’s stage than in Lloyd productions of yesteryear (though both the design of stage and stage dress come courtesy of Soutra Gilmour), save the gathering piles of petals and a giant blow-up heart shadowing the cast from the stage’s rear end. Often, when a cast member is not required for the scene at hand, they will simply take their seated positions in a row of chairs facing the audience, affect their blankest expression and wait. As the beginnings of the romantic schemes of Don Pedro (Gerald Kyd) and friends are, effectively, flanked by this spectral sight, a no doubt unintentionally creepy ambience begins to take shape. Intermittently, the shock of a new pop dance number will jolt the other players into dancing, sniping, flirting life, only for them to be frozen in place once more. For a time, it is easy to lose sight of Shakespeare altogether in favour of what can feel like a panto starring a succession of disco robots, oscillating wildly between activation and obsolescence. 

More than anything, the approach hamstrings Lloyd’s actors, who only appear to be working all the harder when summoned back to centre stage. There is no hardship in watching actors as appealing as stars Tom Hiddleston and Hayley Atwell sparring as fanged romantic combatants. Still, for too long their fire feels of a strictly theoretical nature, even subordinate to strategically placed, clickbait spectacle, such as Hiddleston lustily supplicating before a cardboard cut-out of Atwell in full Agent Carter Marvel regalia (yes). Such moments are playful, but persistently, almost bullyingly so, as if operating from the conviction that the crowd must at no time be giving its attention to anything so stuffy and second-hand as the play itself.

It’s fitting, then, that this Much Ado comes to life the more trust it places in its cast and text. Indeed, the more traditional it becomes. For a time, the biggest laugh comes courtesy of a seemingly unplanned moment, in which Hiddleston’s Benedick sends the scheming party of Don Pedro and his men into a seemingly unrehearsed giggle fit through the sheer ludicrousness of his attempted disguise. Suddenly, the rigid stylisation is pierced straight through, and in the back half this occurs at a pleasingly frequent rate. When the splintering of seemingly picture-perfect lovebirds Hero and Claudio (Mara Huf and James Phoon, respectively) occurs, the furious hurt of both Atwell’s indomitable Beatrice and Hero’s father, governor Leonato (Forbes Mason) is permitted to register with genuine, raw feeling. In turn, the final catharsis of tragedy narrowly averted in favour of much good cheer and romancing proves a genuine, spirit-elevating relief. Even all that in-your-face boogying and karaoke-ing proves endearing the more the cast are allowed to take ownership of it (by night’s end, Hiddleston will have made charmingly dorky work of both the Beastie Boys and the Backstreet Boys). For all the mannered gestures towards the modern, Lloyd’s latest theatrical interpretation works best relying on the oldest theatrical tools in the book.

Ultimately, the new Much Ado arrives at an emotionally satisfying conclusion, brought about by the fizzy chemistry of a cast fluent in the text at hand. If the road taken there is bumpy, the ultimate reward is all the greater.

Thomas Messner
Photos: Marc Brenner

Much Ado About Nothing is at Theatre Royal Drury Lane from 21^st February until 5^th April 2025. For further information or to book visit the theatre’s website here.