I’ve seen ‘a Midsummer Night’s Dream’ numerous times on a

variety of stages, and yet, it never ceases to amaze me how many different ways

a director can roll the play out. I suppose it’s because the words of the

Bard are eminently transportable from past to present and move with ease from

small venue to large. My experience this time was that Andrew Hilton at the Tobacco

Factory excelled himself with a production that was funny, expressive and

innovative.

I was immediately intrigued by the three ladders that had been

securely mounted to the central pillars on stage – it soon became obvious these

were for the fairies to scamper up and hang in the air in a Faustian kind of

way. For, I have never seen fairies like these; they were slightly sinister

beings, who resembled Droogs wearing black Elizabethan ruffs. Oberon was

compelling to watch, a force to reckon with and more like Neo from the Matrix

than a faerie king. His Titania and her fairy-attendant were mysterious maids, the

former proud and stately, the later impish and base as she romped and cavorted with

Puck. Helena and Hermia, were both dressed in very similar peach froufrou dresses which

added to the air of confusion surrounding their, soon to be, predicament. As

they frolicked around their hearts-desires, their attire gradually became

dirtier by the moment and I was reminded of Bruce Willis’ vest in the Die-Hards.

Eventually the girls emerged from a night in the forest; their delicate chiffon

frocks ripped, muddied and bloodied as frantically they tried to beat their way

out of the farce in which they had found themselves. Of the men of Athens, the moth was a

favourite with the audience and caused several folk to nearly fall from their

seats with mirth as he clambered up one of the ladders dangling his lamp, his

face holding a constantly changing supply of ridiculous expressions.

The theatre in the round experience – or rather in the Tobacco

factory’s case, the square - allows the audience to participate to a level not

normally possible in a conventional theatre environment and when members of the

cast whisked some of the front row up for a dance near the end of the performance

no-one seemed the least bit surprised.

The trouble with theatre in the round is the proximity of

your nearest neighbours, the fellow behind me had a prevailing cough which

parted my hair every time his lungs vented forth and this spoilt my enjoyment somewhat.

But at least I didn’t have to suffer a wet seat like the poor folks who

returned from the interval to discover a drunken dolt staggering up the risers had

spilt a whole glass of wine over their chairs and proceeded to mop it all up

with their seat cushions. They only realised what had happened when the wine gradually

seeped through to their clothing during the second act. Much fidgeting ensued.

There were the usual wonderful costumes to admire with an

attention to detail the Tobacco Factory seem to have made their own. The

audience being so close to the action allows for a far greater appreciation of

both the costume detail and increased enjoyment of the actors wondrous

expressions.

Titania’s dress with its matching scatter cushions is a

fashion that may well catch on!