Twelfth Night – Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre, London

Writer: William Shakespeare

Director: Owen Horsley

Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night is, in many ways, a play about identity. Mistaken identity, lost identity and gender identity: this is a play which takes pleasure in its own fragmented, slippery uncertainty. The delight of the drama is to be found in observing these moments of misidentification play out, and seeing their subsequent resolution, when ‘truth’ prevails and characters are revealed for who they really are. Staging this play therefore requires a very clear sense of direction and an even clearer sense of the identity of the play itself.

Director Owen Horsley brings to this rendition a clear purpose: emphasizing the powerful ‘queer energy’ of a play which is already inherently playful with gender and sexuality (via the Viola/Olivia/Orsino love triangle). Where the play feels less certain of itself is in its structure and comedic balance: in seeking to emphasize the comedic energy brought about by Olivia’s household (Toby, Andrew, Maria, Feste), this production begins to present the two plotlines as distinct entities, rather than components of the same, beautifully chaotic Shakespearian drama. And whilst this brings deeper characterisation and greater attention to the comedic intricacy of Shakespeare’s ‘fools’, it means that we spend less (stage)time with Viola, Orsino and Sebastian.

Horsley’s production is set in café Olivia – a ‘queer café; by the sea with a nostalgic, vintage appeal, and a deliberate hint of disrepair, borne of Olivia’s grief. It’s an effective, although rather static set: bright neon lights spell out the café’s name overhead; one corner is reserved for a miniature jazz band, and multiple entrances and exits allow for fluid movement on and off-stage. And while there are missed opportunities to emphasise the seaside aspect of Illyria, or to switch things up, set designer Basia Bińkowska has clearly built it with careful consideration for the specific lighting requirements of an open-air theatre: the first half is shaded in dappled evening sunlight, while purple and green lighting gaudily illuminates the stage for the second half. Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre is a predictably gorgeous setting for this comedy, and the actors take full advantage of the space, light and acoustics afforded to them by being outside.

The set lends itself particularly well to the chaotic movements of Sir Toby Belch (played by Michael Matus): Olivia’s uncle and the resident hedonist of the play is recast as a drag queen whose mischievous motions and contagious vitality lead to delightfully unpleasant consequences for those who keep his company (especially Malvolio and Sir Andrew Aguecheek, Olivia’s steward and guest respectively). As he and his comedic troupe occupy tables, hide behind furniture and make merry, the static space of the stage is enlivened. Their efforts are aided by garish, outlandish costumes and makeup from Ryan Dawson Laight and Kate Godfrey.

Meanwhile, Richard Cant clearly delights in portraying the duality of Malvolio: a dour, stern man, turned energetic and effervescent by a rather malign trick. Jaunting, flaunting and taunting, this merry troupe of fools are amusing and overtly successful at surfacing the play’s ‘queer energy’, as the director intends – but there is a risk that they outstay their welcome.

Resultingly, the ‘main’ plot of the play – Viola’s deceptive relationship with Orsino and Oliva – lacks the depth that it deserves. Evelyn Miller (Viola/Cesario) and Raphael Bushay (Orsino) play their characters with sensitivity and wit, but when they become betrothed in the play’s finale, their proclaimed love for one another feels undeveloped: a marriage of convenience. Their sections begin to feel like serious interludes to the chaotic comedy of Sir Toby’s troupe, rather than the other way round.

Anna Francolini, however, as Olivia, is perhaps the only character who successfully manages to straddle the serious-comic divide which the play sets up: her outrageously performative grief, wordplays with Cesario and increasingly revealing outfits allow her to be a bridge between the two distinct happenings and tones of the play – a privilege unique to her character.

The grand finale of the performance – the reunion of Viola and Sebastian – is, however, a glorious moment: repressed until every other character is on stage. This reunion is an anticipated climax to a series of misunderstandings, and it works so well because it unites all the characters in celebration. Here, it feels like the distinct strands of the play are drawn together, rather than held apart as comedic or plot-driving sequences (but not both).

Ultimately, Horsley’s Twelfth Night manages to reshape the play around the queer energy of café Olivia, giving more attention to the merriment, singing and fools who inhabit the space. But in so doing, it feels like it loses sight of its more serious elements: ‘the comedy of grief’, and the intimate dynamics between the love triangle. Whether this is an oversight or a valuable reworking of the play is a decision for the viewer, who will undoubtedly derive much pleasure either way from the beautiful setting and joviality of this Shakespearian comedy.

Runs until 8 June 2024