BWW Review: ROMEO AND JULIET, Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

“Two households, both alike in dignity”, and so begins arguably Shakespeare’s most popular tragedy, which seems to have been everywhere in recent months. But it’s safe to say not all productions have been alike in status – unlike the famous Capulet and Montague houses of Verona. Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet might as well be the most beloved and regarded couple of the past five centuries. But is Romeo and Juliet a love story? In short, no, not really. It’s a political tragedy that showcases teenage infatuation.

Not here it isn’t, in a stripped-down, feud-lite version that narrows the story down to a sappy, puerile crush between two besotted teens who’ve known each other for a few days. Kimberley Sykes’s bland take on this time-honoured play has opened the new season at the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre, and while it hosts any number of visual accomplishments, as a whole, it’s disappointing.

The text has undergone severe cuts and now feels shorter than Mercutio’s life. While the show announces itself as 110 minutes, it’s actually south of that mark and breezes by with all the juicy, thought-provoking bits lying on the cutting room floor.

Sykes skips the prologue altogether and starts at the iconic thumb-biting scene. From then onwards, the company definitely get their steps in running up and down Naomi Dawson’s industrial set. The scaffolding sits nimbly upstage, visually communicating the rivalry at the play’s heart.

A cross features prominently, its arms weighted down by burlap sacks filled with sand which carry evident allegorical meaning. Starting from the base of the cross, a deep crack in the earth splits the space. Two swords in illuminated glass cases hanging from the scaffold point towards the middle.

Enter Joel MacCormack’s Romeo: a clueless, childish, excitable poshboy. Then, enter Juliet, a shallow 14-year-old who has a way with words but comes off as if she’d been locked away from society for the majority of her life. The Capulets’ compound is turned into a club for the fateful party where they meet. Thumping music cues non-existent sparks and ignites the pair’s less-than-arresting chemistry.

As much as Sykes wants us to believe that these youngsters share explosive and unstoppable feelings, you wouldn’t say as much by looking at MacCormack and Isabel Adomakoh Young. While the central pair struggle to convey burning passion, several of the supporting cast get to shine.

Cavan Clarke’s Mercutio swiftly becomes the star of the show, giving an exquisite performance as Romeo’s friend. He introduces a brazen, confident, and fearless character forever loyal to his mate. In his final harrowing moments, he’s the first to really hint at that decisive political commentary that only skirts this piece, crying out “A plague o’ both your houses!”

His death kick-starts the trail of blood that runs through to the very end. Composer and sound designer Giles Thomas follows each demise with an earthy rumble, and the freshly dead characters become spirits who survey the aftermath of their deaths.

The score acts as an emotional cue but feels mostly unneeded. Strings and romantic numbers almost seem out of place as they kick in when Sykes deems the text (or her actors) not good enough to make a point.

Along with Clarke, Emma Cunniffe’s Nurse impresses, as well, at once motherly and empathetic. Peter Hamilton Dyer does well as Friar Laurence, here a gardening aficionado who cooks up Juliet’s sleeping concoction in front of her eyes.

Once we remove the intrusive music and the excess of fake blood, there isn’t much substance left. The commentary is completely smothered by a feeble central relationship. Sykes’s production tries to be edgy and cool but sadly fails. Can we get a Mercutio spin-off? The Nurse and the Friar could be his side-kicks…

Romeo and Juliet runs at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre until 24 July.

Photo credit: Jane Hobson