Review: Much Ado About Nothing, Regent's Park

Written for Culture Wars

It’s summer fare as staple down in Regent’s Park, as another breezy Shakespearian comedy frolics before the foliage. Timothy Sheader’s Much Ado About Nothing befits its protagonists by offering more mirth than matter. However, though it may elevate the endearing and splash the world with pretty pastels, to denigrate it as pedestrian is to forget the carefree pleasure of a stroll in the sun.

As if to prove that “men from children differ nothing”, Sheader gives us a pair of middle-aged kids in Benedick and Beatrice. Their initial verbal sparring is born of playground flirtation rather than animosity, performed with eyes fixed on whatever onlookers can be found. Even where no audience presents itself, Sean Campion’s greying Benedick invents one, hammering his soliloquies as if formed of punchlines alone. When being duped into love by the stressed whispers of friends, both seem desperate for discovery and the accompanying attention. Campion pops out from beneath a table to perch next to Don Pedro (Silas Carson) and Samantha Spiro’s Beatrice throws herself noisily from tree to tree, at one point bringing down a rain of oranges with her.

Yet, as their love becomes manifest, the pair grow heartfelt. Like the citrus trees that sprout through the wooden stage, nature punctures performance and an unexpected maturity, even nobility, comes to fruition. At the disintegration of Claudio and Hero’s marital ceremony, Campion’s Benedick steps smoothly and simply into responsibility, taking charge to defend Beatrice’s family honour.

Like its central pairing, Sheader’s production matures as it goes on, similarly replacing superficial wit with assured sincerity to demonstrate a surprising emotional muscle. True, the ambling pace undermines genuine comic momentum, forcing his direction into a couple of clunky gags – Dogberry, for example, emphasizes his age by flashing a freedom pass – but Sheader makes too many decisions according to the odd line here or there. His colour-blind casting of Anneika Rose as Hero hinges solely on Leonato’s faux-disbelief at his being her father.

There is strong support from Tim Steed’s Don John and Ben Mansfield, who instils unusual valour into Claudio. But it is Spiro who drives the production forward, bringing a sense of defence mechanism to her curt court-jesting so lacking in Campion’s clumsily cocksure Benedick.

As Much Ado’s go, Sheader’s befits its location. Comfortable by nature, relaxed and gently playful, it emphasizes intelligibility over intelligence and succeeds heartily.