Tim Hughes enjoys an hilarious production of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing in the Bodleian Library's Old Schools Quad

IN a city famed for its grand vistas and scenic spaces, the Old School Quad of the Bodleian Library arguably reigns supreme.

The uniform 17th century stonework of this secluded square radiates a harmonic serenity, presided over by the flamboyant Tower of the Five Orders.

That mix of grandeur and intimacy make it the perfect location for one of Shakespeare’s best-loved plays – a tale of subterfuge and plot as well and a great vehicle for two of his finest comic creations - performed by the torchbearers of his legacy of outdoor theatre for the masses.

There can be no company better than Shakespeare’s Globe to stage a production of Much Ado About Nothing in this hallowed spot – bringing a boisterous knockabout sense of fun and spectacle, drama and emotion, to a space where sober black signs usually instruct visitors to stay silent.

This is the Bard’s work as it was surely intended to be seen: on a simple Elizabethan-style set which doubles for street, church and home – the scene adjusted only by the addition of a washing line, deck chairs or garlands of flowers. And it is performed, as originally intended, by a touring company for the benefit of a restless, slightly uncomfortable audience in the Great British outdoors, albeit, in our case, a respectably sober one – few of us availing ourselves of the bar before the show, as they no doubt would have done in the Bard’s time.

The Bodleian makes the perfect double for the Sicilian city of Messina where two parallel courtships make their faltering progress.

Our principal concern is between the principal characters: the earnest but witless Claudio (played straight by Aaron Anthony) and the wonderfully saccharine-sweet Hero (the brilliantly girly Jessica Warbeck). But the more entertaining affair is that which is mischievously manufactured between the play’s outstanding comic creations – the acerbic Beatrice (Emma Pallant) and Benedick (Christopher Harper) – who really steal the show.

Pallant, whose tongue is as sharp as her mind, is outstanding as the scowling “harpy” (to use Benedick’s word) who is determined to put down her sparring partner at every turn – until she is tricked into believing he loves her. The contrast between this jagged intellectual proto-feminist and the romantic Hero is a delight.

Harper matches her, insult for insult, throwing out withering one-liners, turning to the audience, like his opponent, for vindication. It’s a fabulous feast of eye-rolling and shoulder shrugs, which, along with other subtle devices (I won’t spoil it by revealing them here) involve the audience in the action.

Part rom-com, part Elizabethan soap opera, this is all edge-of-the-seat stuff which will appeal as much to the novice or the non-English speaking overseas tourist (of whom there were a number on my visit) as the scholar.

The setting is updated with vaguely modern, if unspecific, costumes: braided army unifroms for the boys, dresses for the ladies, and a tailored double-breasted suit for Hero's dad Leonata (Robert Pickavance) - who is perfect as the doting - then heartbroken - father - who ultimately thinks up the genius solution to right wrongs and ensure all ends well.

All members of the cast pick up instruments (from guitar to accordion and even, in Pickavance's hands, a comically flatulent trombone) and stomp around the set between scenes, adding to the sense of fun. They’re not bad as a singing-dancing folk music ensemble, either. I detect a sideline, should they tire of acting.

Of course there was no tiring on tonight's performance - with the roller-coasting plot hurtling between comedy, banter, slapstick and a spiralling descent towards tragedy - ending in punishment, penance and redemption.  

Oxford Mail:

Don John serenades the audience in this music-rich performance by Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre

A wonderful contribution to the production's programme by Shakespean expert Prof Kiernan Ryan, reminds us of the importance of the play’s title itself – ‘nothing’ being slang for a vagina in Elizabethan times.

This bawdy double entendre shows us that the crux of the play is its fixation on female chastity, and its exploration of messy sexual desire – in all its clumsiness and manners. This is also what makes it resonant today, in the age of online dating and easy Tinder pick-ups, as we still battle to define sexual roles and struggle with the notions of reputation and promiscuity.

More than that, though, in the hands of this talented troupe, it’s a damn good tale, tremendously entertaining, and laugh out loud funny. Do see it while you can.

Much Ado About Nothing is on until Aug 2.
Tickets from oxfordplayhouse.com