Much Ado About Nothing review

In 2022, we were spoilt by two cracking productions of this Shakespeare comedy. Lucy Bailey’s garden-set romp at Shakespeare’s Globe, and Simon Godwin’s lavish hotel-based take for the National Theatre were both delights thanks to a combination of visual charm and high-octane performances. This version, directed by Sean Holmes, is a visual feast and boasts some standout performances. But there’s frustratingly little gelling between the characters, leaving the eventual coupling-up underwhelming. And while Holmes delves admirably into the story’s darker moments, letting Leonato’s vile disowning of his daughter hang heavy in the air, a residual sourness renders the happy ending unconvincing.

Taking its cue from the play’s Seville orange quip, Grace Smart’s set is stacked with crates of the fruit, with trees dotted with similar fluorescent orbs. Their fiery colour is carried over into Smart’s vibrant gipsy skirts and pantaloons – rural, unfussy costumes that suit the rough-around-the-edges home of John Lightbody’s Count Leonato. It’s no surprise in this setting to hear Amalia Vitale’s Beatrice – all wild gesticulations and laddish swagger – chat back to the men. Vitale is hugely entertaining, as is Ekow Quartey as a Benedick, petrified of women – but there’s a lack of chemistry to their banter. Nor is there so much as a soft glance between Wadsworth’s tetchy Claudio and Lydia Fleming’s sweet Hero. As the narrative’s second couple, they’re notably young – they could pass for teens at the mercy of their hormones. Holmes may also be suggesting that Don Pedro (Ryan Donaldson) was a bad role model for Claudio; despite his royal status, the prince has little presence here, and is not especially likeable. 

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