The Pop Up Globe may be doing roaring business but it’s great to see the capital of culture (after Dunedin, of course) keeping up with the Auckdashians. Not only the wonderful King Lear at Circa but Vic Uni presents a great and funny night out with Much Ado About Nothing. Or that may more accurately be retitled Meta Ado About Loads.

This presentation by the students of Conventions of Drama and Theatre – under the direction of Stella Reid (assisted by Hilary Penwarden), and Scenography: The Scenographic Imagination papers, and dramaturged by the students of Shakespearean Performance and James McKinnon – is framed within a tutorial on ‘boring Shakespeare who is meant for the drama department not for English’. It’s academia – there are no short sentences. And it’s an action packed fun night out.

I must admit my sphincters tighten when I see the company run out in white and black clothing to present Shakespeare: we ain’t in the 70s no more and these days it comes across as lazy costuming. But this is academia (not used in the pejorative sense): this company lampoons the memes surrounding acting, drama students and academia itself.

The Director (Nino Raphael) calls his students to order and asks who has done the reading. Having been on both ends of that question I feel his and the students’ pain in equal measures. Throughout the evening the play stops as students question Shakespearian contractions, metre and motivation of character. It also allows for some hilarious self-reflective commentary. As a Brechtian device it halts the action for us to take a look at what art is. This convention allows us to remember it’s a student production in that it’s an investigation, not only into Shakespearian performance, but how a modern day audience might understand or come to the text.

Further Brechtian touches are the naming of places chalked on the floor and the walls, which keep locations and events easily in the audience’s mind, and the audience’s direct interaction with the cast. We are asked if we should forgive Claudio prior to the wedding. This feels like a soft question really even though it is left to Hero to decide. Here the device/convention is at its weakest; we are so close to the dénouement it would be a departure should she not choose the narrative of the play. To introduce this bold narrative option, therefore, is not really an option at all.

Where it strikes brilliantly is when Beatrice (Ophelia Wass) stops before the famous “What fire is in mine ears” speech to consult the director on how to portray this immediate love. A suggestion of what this is, is taken from the audience for Beatrice to assess and fold into her performance. Taking these feelings on board we hear, not the speech, but Puccini’s ‘O mio babbino caro’ from Gianni Schicchi (the famous one that Kiri did in Room With A View), delicately accompanied by Raphael on the guitar. It is simply spell-binding, encapsulating the mood, moment and beauty of the speech. 

The style mainly is a cross between Baz Lurhman’s modernising via the articulation of the now and Joss Whedon’s 2012 film version of the play (which is acknowledged). The theatre, with the audience in thrust arrangement, is black with the three axes clearly marked on the playing floor (a nod to the Flag improvisation exercise?). To the rear right is a mountain of chairs which creates an aesthetic entrance whereby groupings can occur. And chairs themselves play a key set/prop role, they become simple seats, a velvet rope into a club, and even handcuffs (Craig Hutchison’s Conrade makes great humour of this with one line).

The Scenographers take a simple approach with this set, allowing the actors to use the props but never let them get in the way. The sound – song, soundtrack and diegetic – adds to the whole with some very fine performances. I am a little at odds with the use of mics: not used for the Benedict’s gulling, but used for Beatrice’s; used for song and particular passages … It seems to be haphazard, or maybe I’m not adept enough to find the reasoning that informs the production or play.

The lights seem to change with every beat of the script. Best when delineating the public versus the private, Leonata’s entrance, the trap and the club, it feels a bit hammy to have Don John’s scenes so evilly lit, repetitively. At times the murkiness of some scenes make me think there aren’t enough lamps to go around and by using all the bells and whistles (this design is marked after all), the showing of these effects comes before prudence in design.

Stella Reid’s direction and James McKinnon(et al)’s work means that there is clarity of purpose and meaning in the lines. All clearly understand what they are saying and are adept at conveying that meaning and story to the audience. If you’re a bit shy of Shakespeare this is the production you must see. There’s a naturalness and ease to a lot of the performances that come from a lot of hard work.

Ophelia Wass’ Beatrice is a stand-out: very present and just the right amount of sass and vulnerability. You want her on your team when you go out for fun and you’d seek her out in troubled times. Her Benedict (Rory Hammond) is very self assured but I think she has the upper hand in this version.

Kasava Beaney’s Don John lets the words do his work in such an admirable way. Never the ‘classic bad guy’, his simplicity and underplaying speak of a wounded pride. His work during the wedding makes him most believable, never offering a knowing wink to the audience which could be so easy with no fourth wall. By grounding him in the play rather than the tutorial, Reid makes him a valuable anchor to the drama amidst so much laughter.

As Claudio, Simon Davis does a great, if at times hard to hear, job. He captures the oxymoronic boyish youth and vitriol with truth.

These actors I mention as stand-outs in a very, very strong cast. The execution of the passage of the club scenes was a highlight in itself, with compelling focus and physicality all round.

Sometimes, personally, I want less stoppage to discuss (and yet think Claudio’s reaction to the revealed-alive Hero a particular omission on that front) but it doesn’t hold up the flow of the play. I do feel that the clown Dogberry (Jack McCarthy, best when interrupting) is best served by straight woman Verges (Katie Alexander), the audience laughing at her corrections of his speech, but it does mean that on his own the malapropisms don’t land as well as they could. And yes, there could be some better pacing in some scenes.

But all in all I am not alone in laughing out loud at the play, the presentation and the students playing students playing actors playing characters. No doubt it is very post-post-post-modern, but who gives a hoot when the production is such a delight.

An absolute tonic for the beginning of winter. 

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