The Stratford Theatre Review: Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing

By Ross

Under the off-balanced arch of a tree, with the rotating moon hanging overhead lighting up the courtyard, Shakespearean magic is unleashed as perfectly as one could imagine and hope for with Stratford Festival‘s deliciously illuminated Much Ado About Nothing. The monumentally charming opening monologue, filled with clever play, dreamingly ushers us forth into this expertly staged and performed comedy that Shakespeare wrote back in 1598. Revolving itself magically and hilariously around two romantic pairings, like sleeping doves looking for an open palm, this production, directed with a light sharp expert touch by Chris Abraham (Tarragon’s I, Claudia) is about as perfect as perfect can be. It delightfully plays a merry war with us all, delivering moving pots full of laughter with every ad-libbed aside taking to heart all that is glorious about the play and that glorious Shakespearean language.

Set in a lovely garden in Messina, my dear lady’s disdain sets up a challenge where love gods play with those who do loving battles with words, rather than swords. Played by the wonderfully sharp Maev Beaty (Soulpepper’s August: Osage County), the hilariously wicked Beatrice takes center stage, battering about cutting witticisms and smart jabs with delight at the equally sharp Benedick, played brilliantly by the delightfully game Graham Abbey (Stratford’s Coriolanus). It’s clear, if we know anything at all about Shakespeare, that these two expert singletons will eventually find the love that exists in their barbed lashings, but exactly how, we will have to wait to see. But the joy of watching these two magnificently talented actors effortlessly fill us most gloriously in their play is worth its weight in gold, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

The young lovers, as there always has to be in a Shakespearian comedy, is the immediate and sweet love between Benedick’s fellow soldier, Count Claudio, and the young Hero, daughter of their host, Leonato, governor of Messina, played with depth and care by Patrick McManus (Crow’s Red Velvet). The youthful romancers, beautifully embodied by the handsome Austin Eckert (Belfry’s Spring Awakening) and the lovely Allison Edwards-Crewe (Stratford’s Little Women), sit gloriously in our souls, but mischief is afoot, pushed forward by the villainous Don John, portrayed darkly by Michael Blake (Arts Club’s Togdog/Underdog) out of jealousy and rage. This vengeful “Bastard Prince”, the illegitimate brother of Don Pedro (André Sills), assisted by two hilariously foolish followers, Borachio (Jakob Ehman) and Conrade (Cyrus Lane), insert doubt and double trouble between the two young soon-to-be-married lovers with accusations and set-up lies. And when the first attempt fails, the second sighting almost does the trick. But it’s a comedy, we are reminded, there will be no murders or death, thankfully, even if that Friar, played lovingly by Gordon Patrick White (Stratford’s King Lear), suggests a “Romeo and Juliet” plot device that makes us wonder: Did he learn nothing from that last tragic time young maidens played dead?

The main deliciously smart energy of the night, though, belongs to the tricking of Benedick and Beatrice whose love is sparked with conniving wit and notations from their helpers, in order to get them to confess their love for each other, almost against their own overly spoken wishes. Their banter is as hilariously charming as the way the two can so easily climb trees and hide behind pottery, thanks to the delightfully charming work of designer Julie Fox (Stratford’s R+J), with lovely lighting by Arun Srinivasan (Tarragon’s Cockroach) and musical composing and sound design by Thomas Ryder Payne (Factory’s Wildfire). Together, the combination of all adds to and enlivens an already magnificently staged celebration.

There is so much to be delighted by in this well-thought-out comedy, from its sharp well-placed lines thrown out seemingly off-the-cuff to a happy audience that has possibly “far too many women” in attendance, to all those deliciously constructed characters that flesh out this charming story within almost every scene delivered. Akosua Amo-Adem (Soulpepper’s Pipeline) as Ursula, the waiting-gentlewoman attendant of Hero, as well as Déjah Dixon-Green (Grand’s The Penelopiad) as her cohort, Margaret, find more fine funny flavor in every flurry that they have on that stage, showcasing an expert grasp of both Shakespeare and comedy combined. The hilarious energy of the foolish members of the watch, played to the nines by Josue Laboucane (Dogberry), John Kirkpatrick (Verges), Kevin Kruchkywich (Seacoal), Danté Prince (Hugh Oatcake), Jameela McNeil, and Glynis Ranney, are in essence the well-intentioned but bumbling saviors of the day, bringing forth justice to the Sexton (Anousha Alamian). They all are impeccable and smart in their ridiculously funny stance and swagger.

Even as we watch Claudio being tricked into believing that Hero is not the fair virgin maiden that she is (Where is his faith?, one might ask), the ensuing drama and heartache that the mischief almost achieved, and the friar’s infamous fakery that works its magic (this time around), we can’t help but be amazed at how this glorious rendering and all its plots and counter-plots find the clever balancing act of brilliant comedy and intense tragedy, with comedy, thankfully, winning out in the end.

Hero gets to deliver the speech of the night, which feels as modern as can be, teaching the contemporary lesson of the night and of the world we know. It turns out that ‘nothing’ was slang for a woman’s vagina, and this Much Ado About this kind of ‘nothing’, as said by director Abraham, re-aligned his understanding of the play and its “obsessions with the patriarchy’s anxiety about female chastity and the joke this placed on the women.” Accusations shouldn’t break faith and love apart, even if we think we see and hear a betrayal laid out, mischievously before us. The breaking of hearts and the pain it causes is what makes this show, in the end, such a delight. The dark together with the light brings forth the laughs and the deliciousness of the text and performances. We can’t help but join in with the laughter, hope, and the love that ultimately triumphs, as it should, in the end. Especially between those two quarreling witty lovers, Abbey’s Benedick and Beaty’s Beatrice. We are all truly blessed.