Review – RSC: As You Like It

‘This is a sort of reunion’, we’re told at the start of the play, and it certainly feels that way as the cast gradually make their way onto the stage, greeting each other (and even the audience) as old friends. The stage is set to resemble a rehearsal room, and that theme permeates the entire performance, as the audience feel as though they’ve been given special access to the play in production; the fourth-wall is shattered from the get-go, as we’re treated to out-of-character asides and even brief history lessons from members of the cast.

Most of the actors first performed the play in 1978, and are reprising their roles for this age-blind production – with the notable exception of Old Adam, who is symbolically represented on stage by a trench coat. Indeed, it feels really rather a privilege to witness this veteran cast of actors do what they do best, and bring one of Shakespeare’s wittiest and most heart-warming comedies to life in Omar Elerian’s fresh, but undoubtedly classic, reimagining of As You Like It.

The source of many of Shakespeare’s most famous lines, As You Like It is a play about love, in all its forms, and the joyous freedom we can find in nature, while also exploring (in a typically over-complicated Shakespearean way) issues of gender, as Rosalind (who fools everyone with her disguise as the youthful male, Ganymede) bids her suitor, Orlando (who is oblivious to her true identity) to woo her as though she were Rosalind (yes, we’re a bit confused too).

Geraldine James sparkles in her RSC debut as a playful Rosalind, adding comedy to the role with her ‘convincing’ male swagger, while retaining sensitivity in her portrayal of a woman very much in love, but who isn’t quite ready to believe he’s really serious about her. Indeed, she’s more than a match for Malcolm Sinclair’s sympathetically love-struck Orlando, who beautifully captures the conflicting anguish and elation that come with being a young man so desperately in love that he doesn’t quite know what to do (enter Rosalind, pretending to be Ganymede, to show him the ropes).

Maureen Beattie gives us a feisty and funny Celia, providing the perfect counterpart to James’ gentle Rosalind, and her complete devotion to her beloved cousin is totally believable. Orlando’s dastardly brother, Oliver, is played with real menace by Michael Bertenshaw, providing a worthy villain for the play, and his transformation in Act Two is particularly enjoyable as he realises the error of his ways. Another actor who plays a man (well, in this case actually two) of two halves is Robin Soans, who doubles up as the tyrant Duke Senior and his exiled younger brother, Duke Frederick. The contrast between the two characters is stark, showcasing Soans’ great versatility as an actor.

Jacques, in tonight’s performance, is played by Christopher Saul, who only began preparations for the part just over a week ago, following the indisposition of Oliver Cotton. Saul is a cantankerous Jacques, and delivers the famous ‘All the world’s a stage’ speech with an understated disdain which is particularly poignant.

It is James Hayes, as Touchstone the clown, who steals the show for me; he has the audience eating out of the palm of his hand with his witty asides and comedic timing, reminding us that he is a ‘classical actor’ while parading around the stage in a rainbow-coloured, tasselled onesie.

Other notable performances come from David Sibley as Corin the farmer, and Celia Bannerman as the ‘proud and pitiless’ Phoebe, who is followed around by her devoted suitor Silvius, played rather adorably by David Fielder. Ewart James Walters and Cleo Sylvestre also provide comedy in the play as Charles the Wrestler/William and Audrey respectively.

And the veteran cast are well-supported by their more youthful counterparts, Tyreke Leslie, Mogali Masuku, Rose Wardlaw and Hannah Brimstow, who playfully compete for the smaller parts in the play, as well as providing some of the set – indeed, at one point, Mogali Masuku gives us a very convincing impression of a log.

This production is a joy from start to finish; a sensationally silly romp through the metaphorical forest, and a reminder that love has no age limit.