The last time I watched Shakespeare in the Park, I was 17 years old. Like most other matriculants who attend a play written by the English bard, I was there because it formed part of my prescribed Standard 10 (now Grade 12) curriculum.
Frankly, I hadn’t been given much of a choice in the matter. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it.
In fact, I loved it – I felt so grown up, being out late on a school night.
Fast forward 30 years, and there I was again – seated underneath the stars at Maynardville, getting ready to watch a 400-plus-year-old play. And, although I was there of my own volition this time, I still found the thought of sitting through 1 hour and 45 minutes of “to be, or not to be” a bit intimidating. (Yes, I know. Different play.)
It turns out I had nothing to be worried about. True to its genre, A Midsummer’s Night Dream was full of frivolous fun and laughter. Or as Shakespeare would say “the swiftest hours, as they flew”.
(Translation: Time flies when you’re having fun.)
For those who aren’t familiar with the comedy; in the play, meddling fairies create unexpected love triangles among a group of Athenian teenagers. According to literary experts, this is Shakespeare’s way of exploring how people tend to fall in love with those who appear beautiful to them.
And lots of beautiful people there were, indeed. Some of them half-naked, even.
At one point, one of the love interests, Helena (played by Lisa Tredoux), disappears from the stage wearing a blue frock only to return a few minutes later dressed in only a bra and petticoat for no explicable reason. A line describing the fullness of her cherries or some such follows.
Soon after, Lysander (played by Aidan Scott) and Demetrius (played by Jock Kleynhans) also lose their kit. I think it happens during a tussle over Helena, but to be honest, the exact reason for their striptease now escapes me. All I can remember is two fit-looking men, running around in their briefs.
It is good to see the youth of today investing in their health.
Modern touches, doubtlessly added by director Geoffrey Hyland, include switching up genders among the actors. Chi Mhende plays both the graceful Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, and the imposing Oberon, king of the faeries, while Roberto Kyle is equally eloquent as Theseus, ruler of Athens, and Titania, queen of the faeries.
Under the direction of Hyland, the actors also give new, naughty meaning to many of Shakespeare’s oft-repeated lines by using well-placed gestures, meaningful looks or moments of silence that say so much.
Mark Elderkin, who plays Nick Bottom (a weaver who gets transformed into part donkey), proves to be a master of the art of innuendo.
Tailyn Ramsamy, who plays Francis Flute, the bellows-mender, also shows perfect comedic timing in his over-the-top interpretation of “a girl in love” – the kind of “squeal” acting that is so purposefully bad that it is good.
While the entire cast brought their A-game, the one who blew me away with her acting chops was Mhende. In the blink of an eye (and a billowy costume change), she seamlessly and convincingly transformed from Hippolyta to Oberon and back again. Her presence on stage, the tone of her voice, the way she moved. Puck, it was impressive.
At the end of the play, the cast, director, and the statue of Shakespeare positioned at the edge of the stage received a well-deserved standing ovation.
As I reluctantly left my seat, I couldn’t help but think what a delightful evening I had had – just like all those folks four centuries ago.
