A Midsummer Night's Dream, National Theatre At Home review – a mad delight

Nicholas Hytner makes the familiar gloriously strange in this slippery, sumptuous show

share this article

A light-footed, dancing thing: Oliver Chris and Gwendoline Christie in A Midsummer Night's Dream
Manuel Harlan

Nicholas Hytner’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, filmed for NT Live at the Bridge Theatre last summer, is – as it gleefully acknowledges – completely bonkers. But it doesn’t start out that way. A troop of actors trudge through the audience, singing dirge-like psalms in dark suits and The Handmaid’s Tale-esque headwraps. This is Athens, a terrifyingly patriarchal society in which a woman can be killed for refusing to marry the man her father chooses. It’s the part of the play you always forget: the waking nightmare, which makes the flight into the forest all the more desperate. 

Gwendoline Christie in A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Bridge TheatreIt’s a testament to Hytner’s skill that he’s able to balance dream and reality so well. His trick is to switch up Titania (Gwendoline Christie, pictured right) and Oberon’s (Oliver Chris) lines: here, it’s the fairy king who falls in love with an ass-headed mortal, the queen who manipulates him via Puck (a genuinely otherworldly David Moorst). But Oberon and Bottom’s (Hammed Animashaun) relationship isn’t the butt of the joke. Everything is imbued with such warmth and fondness that it’s like the show is laughing with the audience every step of the way. NT Live can’t recreate the experience of being in the crowd, but you can still feel the sheer delight of this production. “Plays are boring!” Puck whines when he comes across the Rude Mechanicals. Not this one, Robin. 

The versatility of Bunny Christie’s set suits the play’s shifting ground perfectly. Characters disappear into the audience and pop up in unexpected places. The audience disappears and pops up in unexpected places – kudos to the stage crew for what’s essentially an extended exercise in crowd control. This is a play that reminds us of the word’s roots: a light-footed, dancing thing, as graceful as the fairies spinning on their aerial silks (inspired by Peter Brook’s 1970 production for the RSC). Moorst had only had three months’ training before rehearsals started, but just watching him swoop and tumble is enough to make your feet cramp. 

Animashaun (pictured below), along with Kit Young (a superbly angsty Lysander) and Isis Hainsworth (an all-guns-blazing Hermia), was nominated for the Ian Charleson Award for his performance, with good reason: it’s like Bottom was written for him. He’s witty, coy, sweet, and vulnerable, sometimes all in a matter of seconds. He can do things with his eyes that most actors can’t do with their whole bodies. And he makes full use of Hytner’s penchant for weaving extra lines seamlessly into the text, bringing Shakespeare just that little bit closer to today. As does the Titania-Oberon switch, of course. Sexualities and gender presentations are slipped on and off as smoothly as Oberon’s gorgeous golden robe (costumes by Christina Cunningham), all to a sumptuous soundtrack of Beyoncé and Florence and the Machine. 

Hammed Animashaun in A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Bridge Theatre

The play escapes a tragic ending by the skin of its teeth, thanks to Titania/Hippolyta. As with all good adaptations, it’s difficult to see how it could have been any other way. Of course it makes more sense for Titania to run fairy rings around Oberon, and for her gentle reminder of his affair with Bottom to nudge him into a more lenient attitude towards the lovers. Who would deny the magnificent Christie all the power she wants? Even shut up in a glass box like she’s on Naked Attraction, she’s more prowling tiger than caged bird. She and Chris are brilliant together, all the more so when he’s struck by a beautifully-timed attack of the giggles. That it doesn’t kill the mood illustrates perfectly the calibre of spell the show has cast. 

A Midsummer Night’s Dream has a vaguely apocalyptic air about it – there’s a sense that a danger more threatening than the fairies’ harmless mischief is lurking just underneath the surface. But this show is still the perfect escape back into a world where people moved through thronged crowds and clasped strangers’ hands unthinkingly. 

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
Sexualities and gender presentations are slipped on and off as smoothly as Oberon’s gorgeous golden robe

rating

5

share this article

the future of arts journalism

You can stop theartsdesk.com closing! 

We urgently need financing to survive. Our fundraising drive has thus far raised £33,000 but we need to reach £100,000 or we will be forced to close. Please contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d

And if you can forward this information to anyone who might assist, we’d be grateful.

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 15,000 pieces, we're asking for £5 per month or £40 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.

To take a subscription now simply click here.

And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a theartsdesk.com gift subscription?

more theatre

Arthur Conan Doyle and Harry Houdini can't escape their pasts
David Hare's latest casts an affectionate if sometimes creaky backwards glance
Comic gives way to tragedy, as a dead father's duplicity comes between his sons
The team behind Tambo & Bones return with a hilarious show about sex, sex and more sex
Fran Kranz’s new play explores the emotional aftermath of a school massacre
Emma Lim's irreverent production is a delightful aperitif for the summer
Brecht implores us to see, think and act - before it's too late
Ruhl's Off Broadway play 'Stage Kiss' is coming to the Hampstead Theatre
David Pearson's first play focuses on inadequate father-son relationships
'The Waves' reaches the shore once again, this time at Jermyn Street Theatre
Life of Brian Epstein explored in new play which never really satisfies
Autobiographical show about the Middle East prefers utopian longing to political engagement