THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
By William Shakespeare, directed by Jamie Lloyd
Duke of York’s Theatre, St Martin’s Lane, London W2N 4BG, until August 3, 2024
If director Jamie Lloyd worked in cinema he’d be acclaimed as an ‘Auteur’. Instead, he’s in the theater where some acclaim his ‘signature style’ while others, rather unfairly, say he’s got a bag of tricks he rolls out for every production and they are now getting a bit repetitive.
This style, very evident in his recent multi award winning Sunset Boulevard (which is headed for Broadway) includes the following: dark cavernous empty stages lit with occasional shafts of side lighting; a monochrome color palette for the costumes rarely straying from black; a futuristic vibe; actors at stand mics reciting their lines like in a poetry jam; actors not playing scenes to each other; careful sound design with actors cast for their voices as if a radio plays; blinding intertitles; and jagged industrial music. Most of all, though, there is the liberal use of live-stream video feeds where Steadicams track actors though bars, corridors or, here, even outside onto the roof, while the crystalline images are relayed on vast HD screens. All are present and correct here.
All the technical credits by Lloyd’s esteemed regular collaborators are top class with special mention to the video design and cinematography of Nathan Amzi and Joe Ransom. However, there are swings and roundabouts with this approach. The carefully mic’ed actors rarely raise their voices above a murmur, perfect for soliloquies but the fact they don’t often look at each other means the piece is given over to an interiority which denudes it of dramatic momentum, especially damaging in moments of high tension. You miss the rhetorical swagger and banter of typical Shakespeare. There are no duels either as they are cleverly disguised via total blackouts, with sudden shock of red blood then appearing to punch you in the gut. The actors speak mostly using their own accents and the east London ‘estuary’ gives it all the edge of Netflix’s Top Boy, but this never detracts from the clarity of the verse speaking.
Lloyd’s strategy, since founding his own company in 2013, has always been to revitalize mostly classic plays in ways that captivate contemporary audiences, especially the young, so it was inevitable that once he’d nabbed perhaps the biggest movie star in the world today, he would make sure he delivered a production that would speak to that youth demographic who adore Spider-Man Tom Holland and more importantly who rarely lift their eyes from their own various screens.
The star here has drawn huge crowds to the stage door every night such that the street has to be closed off while he makes his limo getaway. On opening night, the arrival of his superstar girlfriend Zendaya caused social media to melt down. More screens. These two are now the Burton and Taylor de nos jours.
The star casting meant the run sold out in two hours (although intrepid theater goers know there is no such thing!). It also worked because Holland, who started in theater, fits back into it with a consummate ease. His eternal youthfulness and muscular boyish frame make him the most convincing Romeo in years, perfectly calibrating the character’s journey from boyish ardor to wounded soul. He’s perfectly matched with Francesca Amewudah-Rivers. She brings a stillness and sharp intelligence to Juliet, who too often has come across as rather vapid. There’s also great chemistry between the two of them.
Freema Agyeman’s Nurse is sexy and wise, rather than the usual doddery old matron, and Michael Balogun impresses as the Friar in a mostly male ensemble that is really well drilled.
So, while the piece delivers the Lloyd aesthetic again, what makes it work is how this ensemble cast manage to ground it in real emotion.
