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A CurtainUp London Review
Much Ado About Nothing
Jeremy Herrin directs this perennial Shakespeare delight with genuine respect and ingenuity. Musicians play an assortment of exotic instruments, their middle eastern garments comically juxtaposing the quintessential Englishness of their general demeanour. This only adds to the farcical humour of the play, which romps between Renaissance Italy and the South Bank of the Thames with seamless joy. In this Anglo-Italian world of citrus and sun are two 'mature' heroes, each as prickly as the other. Beatrice, the busy-bodying spinster whose sharp wit might whittle away the bark of any lesser male. Benedick, a mildly rakish looking bachelor, more at home in his silk dressing gown and sipping a cocktail through a straw than strutting through Messina's streets in pursuit of female flesh. The two are destined to battle. The two are destined passionately to love. So much of this play depends on the chemistry of its principal protagonists that Herrin is to be commended for offering the Globe audience a perfectly balanced partnership. Eve Best as Beatrice and Charles Edwards as Benedick create a romantic comedy duo that cannot be faulted. Best's Beatrice is feisty. A woman of a certain age who could never be saddled with a boring husband but who delights with schoolgirl glee in the happiness of others. Edwards's Benedick is deliciously cavalier. A man whose suave exterior masks a vulnerability as endearing as it is sensitive. When the two eventually unite, genuine relief and warmth is felt toward this happy outcome. Rarely does an audience share the onstage delight of a kiss, or believe that two actors really do ‘love’ each other with sincerity and passion. Best and Edwards conjure a relationship so real, so intense, that my partner for the evening had to wipe away a surreptitious tear. Now that's theatre. Less easy is the relationship between the younger lovers, Hero (Ony Uhiara) and Claudio (Philip Cumbus). Claudio's despicable treatment of Hero, albeit after his Iago-like manipulation by the bastard, Don John (Matthew Pidgeon), hardly endears one to his eventual happiness. Even so, when Claudio and Benedick enjoy a forgiving ‘man-hug’, several ‘aahs’ from the surrounding groundlings confirmed their own forgiveness of Claudio's petulancy and an acceptance of his contrition. If there is real romance in Beatrice and Benedick's onstage chemistry then there is surreal farce in the comedy of Dogberry and his policing crew. Paul Hunter clowns to the crowd. His Dogberry suffers a very precise form of Tourette's that is reminiscent of the less savoury elements of British music hall humour. The Globe audience, however, seemed to love his comic capers, which suggests that old-fashioned slapstick still has its appeal. Joseph Marcell as Leonato, the offended father of Hero, adds his own warmth and vitality to the proceedings. This Leonato is a doting father one moment, a filicidal maniac the next. There is real shame in his treatment of Hero. An honour killing no more justified than Claudio's public shaming of his love on her wedding day. In Marcell's hands, Leonato redeems himself, although there is much in this play that smacks of misogyny and an underlying violence towards women. Servants are used and abused, maidens falsely accused, though ultimately Much Ado About Nothing resolves these issues by focusing on Beatrice and Benedick's partnership. As the programme notes inform us, however, the ‘nothing’ in the play's title might itself be a sexual pun. ‘ Nothing’ was an Elizabethan word for the female pudenda. This is certainly a play that explores with ‘much ado’ frenzy issues of chastity and passion, and the reawakening of sexual desire. It does so with such gentle humour that none can be offended. The Globe season for 2011 has already set off at a cracking pace. More delights are promised. Much Ado About Nothing may be playing opposite a rival West End production with British television starring names, but this Globe production will, I guarantee, be hard to beat. Shakespearean comic romance inviting tears of heartfelt self-recognition? Now that's pretty difficult to beat.
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