Twelfth Night

Twelfth Night is the classic romantic comedy involving mistaken identity, written by Shakespeare as post-Christmas entertainment around the turn of the 17th century. Based on a couple of existing sources, and written after the intensity of Hamlet, this light entertainment with its evergreen themes of love and topsy-turvy mayhem must have been a positive relief for the writer and a delight for audiences.

The structure of confused chaos and social disorder – returning to harmony by play’s end – has been much copied on stage and screen. This production takes Shakespeare’s musical playground to another level with a new collection of songs by hit-maker Tim Finn.  That is reason enough for the revival. Plus the fact that Shakespeare’s talent for writing star turns for the character actors of his day gives every generation the right to revisit and rediscover the stage potency of the play’s comic elements.

As well as extending the boundaries of gender and identity in the post-marriage-equality age, this Twelfth Night also stretches the musical elements – as you would expect from a play whose opening lines are: If music be the food of love, play on! Expanding the role of songs in the storytelling, Finn builds on the recent success of Ladies in Black, his first musical theatre foray. He has written some moving (and catchy) songs that give the action welcome pace and also help us connect to the characters which, let’s face it, are not drawn in-depth by the Bard himself.

The 18 musical numbers adapt some Elizabethan originals and add new pieces that bring to life the play’s themes of change, emotional loss, longing, love and desire. The songs free up the performers to let their hair down – with great vocal performances from the lead and supporting cast, backed by a live band. (If the Elizabethans had had electric guitars, I’m sure Shakespeare would have used them instead of lutes.) The carousel stage design by Tracy Grant Lord is perfect. Her canopy of lights and rotating rotunda reinforce the pull of the stars and the role of fate in the action.

Our modern penchant for split-second sit-com timing means that Shakespeare’s flabby middle section cries out for a tighter belt. And, while Sam Strong could have been braver with his script scalpel, and the chaos gets a little loud in the second half, eradicating all light and shade, the director deftly uses the music to give Twelfth Night the facelift it needs to bring it up to 21st century speed.

It is tempting to see Twelfth Night as a kind of Love Island reality TV setting –privileged characters with excess money and time on their hands making endless merry while trapped in a luxurious, exotic location. The themes also marry – love, sex, self-interest, ego, voyeurism, money, power, manipulation, mischief and mayhem.  The reinvigorated gender-bending hijinks allow Christen O’Leary to have high-camp fun – as Malvolia. Imagining herself married to the high-class Olivia, her stellar solo, ‘Lady Ho Ho’, comes complete with Rocky Horror-esque showcase of yellow stockings and leather garter belt straps. Malvolia’s desperate-and-dateless longing for Olivia is ridiculous and poignant all at once. Her deflated ego, pricked by the household’s cruel pranks, is a timely reminder of the sad consequences of anonymous jibes.

As the three likely lads, Bryan Probets, Colin Smith and Sandro Colarelli prove that Shakespeare’s could be the template for the comic trios we see on screen today. Colarelli is a standout as the devilish Fool, Feste – belting out musical numbers with cabaret abandon. Kathryn McIntyre’s cute and confident prankster, Maria, adds her strong voice to the support team.

As usual, Shakespeare’s romantic leads have to work hard to meet the mark. Jessica Tovey milks empathy from sad Viola and as much humour as possible from sparky Cesario. Kevin Spink maximises his brief stage time as her lost brother, Sebastian. Rising above the challenge, Liz Buchanan brings a wit to her Olivia that is strong and savvy. Jason Klarwein’s Duke Orsino is warm and likeable – in love with the pursuit of love – making the encounters with ‘Cesario’ funny and erotic, and his immediate love of Viola understandable. Kurt Phelan’s powerful stage presence seems wasted in the cameo that is Antonio – but what lingers after all the frivolity is his soulful, unrequited desire for Sebastian.

The combination of great theatre and live music generates an excitement that can’t be matched in any other form. This production creates a collision that had front-row QT subscribers standing to ovation and bus-loads of students equally cheering with delight.

Beth Keehn