Coming off of last year’s superb 4-0 record for their Shakespeare work, Stratford’s 2024 season is quite a bit shakier. There are only three Shakespeare plays on the docket this year and it’s clear that they’re where the company is hoping to spare a few dollars on design as they all feature far less in the way of set than audiences are accustomed to. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing- well-delivered, thoughtfully interpreted Shakespeare shouldn’t need bells and whistles- but it does mean there isn’t much for the audience to fall back on when the direction and performances come up a bit short.
The best news comes from Illyria where veteran actor Seana McKenna, having already played nearly every role in the canon, is expanding her resume into directing. McKenna’s Twelfth Night fills its bare stage with fun 60s costuming and a bright, energetic cast led by the festival’s best leading lady in many years. Jessica B Hill is a great Viola- funny, thoughtful, and sensitive. It’s a treat to watch her silently argue with herself over whether to dare touch Orsino’s knee or how best to deal with Olivia’s refusal to take a hint. The emphasis placed on her brother-sister relationship with Austin Eckert’s charming Sebastian adds dimension and stakes to the story, helpfully rebalancing the love plot as merely part and not the whole of her story. Laura Condlln, Sarah Dodd, and Deborah Hay are well deployed as Malvolio, Maria, and Feste respectively but the subplot’s men feel a bit miscast, straining to play the piece’s natural comedy and thereby missing its tragedy. Twelfth Night is such a rich and pleasing script that it’s got a very high floor; add a strong Viola and even an otherwise forgettable production will easily pass as a season highlight.
The other mainstage Shakespeare is Romeo & Juliet, a text I’m inclined to call similarly foolproof yet seems to stump every director who attempts it on the festival stage. By my count, this is Stratford’s fifth R&J since 2008 and I haven’t loved a single one despite at least baseline enjoying literally any evening spent in the company of that text. Director Sam White did fantastic, refreshing work in last season’s Wedding Band so I had high hopes for her here but something about the extreme fame of the text seems to hold back directors with otherwise strong perspectives from following any interesting instincts. A miscast Juliet hired for her ability to beautifully deliver a few unnecessary moments of song holds the whole production down. There’s little to no chemistry between Vanessa Sears and Jonathan Mason’s promising but ultimately overshadowed Romeo and a lack of fire is a death knell for Romeo & Juliet. Anita Nittoly does fantastic fight work and her choreography is executed with fast ferocity that captures some of the energy I was looking for but her intimacy direction is far too distant and slow to thematically rival the violence. Andrew Iles is a brilliant manic Mercutio, one of the best I’ve seen, but the rest of the feuding youth is woefully unskilled with verse work and their mumbled, meaningless delivery sets a rough tone from the first line. Graham Abbey is a memorable Lord Capulet, weaponizing his kindly aura to deliver a devastating blow with a beautifully reimagined beat in act three scene five that is White’s greatest directorial contribution (her worst is a hokey twist in act five scene one that is not played for laughs but gets them nonetheless). There are tons of things to nitpick in this production (the Nurse is bizarrely played as a blathering grandmother despite that making absolutely no sense for the wet nurse of a thirteen-year-old; Mercutio is colour coded with the Montagues despite being textually not a Montague; why are Balthasar and Friar John cast with the same actor? It makes Romeo’s death look like a targeted hit!) but ultimately details aren’t the point. Romeo and Juliet are the point and this isn’t a love worth fighting for.
I was wary of the season’s final Shakespeare production as the principal casting leaves much to be desired. A female Cymbeline (and the consequential villainous “Duke”) is a fine idea that doesn’t impact the text all that much but Lucy Peacock’s grand style and lack of vulnerability rarely works for me. Perhaps it’s intentional then that the grandest and least vulnerable woman in the young company plays her daughter Innogen, layering the same obsessive clarity and stiff physicality onto the complex heroine to alienating effect. These leading performances deliver exactly as expected from actors who are consistent production to production. I’m happy to say, however, that the rest of the production so exceeded my expectations that ultimately this was my favourite Shakespeare piece of the season. Blessed with a slightly more interesting aesthetic in the Tom Patterson Theatre than its Festival stage counterparts (well, there’s a tree at least, and some wigs of varying effectiveness), director Esther Jun’s Cymbeline embraces the text’s oddity and smartly resists at least most of the temptation to over-examine. Christopher Allen is pure delight as the ridiculous Cloten who is rarely played for quite so many laughs and Tyrone Savage is a skin-crawling Iachimo (that’s a compliment, I swear). Michael Wamara stands out in the small role of Guiderius and Irene Poole lends intriguing gravitas to the key role of principled servant Pisanio. A true ensemble piece, big surprises in small roles are able to elevate Cymbeline despite the weakness at its centre.
Unexpected delights are littered throughout this year’s Stratford Shakespeare and I’ll undoubtedly remember 2024 for Viola, Mercutio, and Cloten, but, on the whole, a lack of energy and innovation fails to bring enough interest to fill the conspicuously empty stages.