A good community festival needs anchor events, things people always come out for and enjoy. You also need shows that are free or koha, so anyone who wants to can come by. For over twenty years there’s been Shakespeare in the HGAF, and always a donation event. “I did enjoy that,” a friend of mine said. “Well worth a two dollar coin.” That was a sort of a joke from someone who could happily pay quite a bit more. But she was right: it was well worth whatever you had paid for it.

As it happens, a gold coin would be right apt as they are crucial to the plot of Twelfth Night: “For saying so, there’s gold” etc.

Viola is shipwrecked, having lost her twin brother at sea. She turns up in Verona. If it would worry you that as a large inland city Verona’s beach would be hard to find, this show is not for you. She dresses up as a boy, in a brightly checked shirt and with a swirling Zapata moustache, as if she is on her way to an orientation gig where the theme is Viva Mexico c. 1930.  

So anyway she falls in love with Romeo, a gangly red haired youth in flame coloured clothing, and serves him in her male, Mexican attire. Meanwhile Juliet falls for Viola/Cesario: McLeod’s mashup/adaptation turns on the idea that in Twelfth Night world everyone always loves Viola at first sight. So then at some point Sebastian, Viola’s twin turns up. He wears a bright checked shirt and the same silly paint on zapata moustache, even more amusing as the actor (none of whom are named as there is no programme) could clearly grow his own. 

From there it’s poison, passion, disguise and – through Viola and Sebastian – love conquers everything, at least I think it does. Lines from one play emerge in the other, often hilariously misquoted. McLeod acts as the rewrite person, throwing in his own verses and wonderfully clunky lines.

The setting is the quite new picturesque garden, and the stage is framed by two pieces of ‘ruin’ such a garden needs. We all lie on the very long grass (as in the picturesque style, untamed grass is considered cutting edge). In Aotearoa we call this a paddock. The tussock makes a great cushion to sprawl on. The action unfolds on a raised path, about 50 metres long: it’s like an outdoor catwalk.

The cast use this well, promenading up and down. Speaking out and over us, we can hear every word. Classic lines from both plays ring out and are greeted with chuckles. The cast relish the irony and the performative, telling the story with and to the audience, with wry double takes out to the crowd.

Early evening Shakespeare after a searing hot day proves just the ticket. “It’s not proper Shakespeare,” people will sometimes say to me. I think they mean it’s not what they recall from Olivier’s tour in the late 1940s. So in those terms it isn’t: it is quite deliciously improper. The cast is ethnically and body shape diverse. The costumes are freewheeling and brightly coloured. It is aptly “a very midsummer madness.”

There’s one more evening show and then as always, a Sunday morning gig that starts at 5am and finishes at 7am. That always draws a crowd: both cast and audience will deserve a hearty carb and sugar filled breakfast. 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer