Sense and Sensibility
On entering the auditorium at the Little Theatre in Leicester, we are immediately met with a strikingly bright stage (lighting design by Jenny Harding and Martin Scott). Columns, gateways and doorways evoke the Regency world of Jane Austen, offering a clean and elegant visual promise of the story to come (set design by Anna Field). The vivid colour palette, providing by the lighting, used throughout the production subtly marks the passing of time, guiding us from day to evening with clarity and warmth.
Sense and Sensibility tells the story of the Dashwood family, focusing on the contrasting romantic journeys of Elinor (sense) and Marianne (sensibility): one governed by the head, the other by the heart. As expected, in true Austen fashion, these differing approaches to love lead to complication, misunderstanding and, ultimately, resolution. Along the way, we encounter a host of suitors (and I must confess, I left the theatre once again firmly devoted to two of my favourite romantic heroes, Colonel Brandon and Edward Ferrars).
The production opens with a gentle instrumental sequence (sound design by Tim Neville, Stew Wale – assisted by Sam Kelly) that allows each character to enter the stage in turn. What is particularly impressive here is that we are able to infer so much about each character before a single word is spoken. This is testament to the strength of the performances across the cast; physicality, expression and movement are used with precision to establish character from the outset.
One of the first characters we meet is Fanny Dashwood (Molly Georgina). Her portrayal captures Fanny’s hauteur and social superiority, yet cleverly renders her a figure of ridicule. Georgina ensures that every appearance is met with anticipation; we know we are about to be entertained through this comic portrayal.
On the whole, this production leans far more heavily into comedy than one might expect from Austen, and it is all the better for it. There is a genuine warmth that runs throughout, and I found myself smiling for much of the performance.
Another comic character, Mrs Jennings (Ketna Butron), brings a bustling, good-hearted energy to the stage. Her entrances are met with laughter before she has even spoken, such is her command of comic timing. Similarly, Darren Hawes’ Mr Palmer delivers a more droll, understated humour. His silent reactions – expressions of frustration and weary contempt – provide some of the evening’s most quietly effective comedic moments.
The Dashwood family themselves anchor the production with sincerity and warmth. Rose Adams as Elinor Dashwood performs with poise and emotional restraint, embodying the ‘sense’ of the title with elegance. Her relationship with Edward Ferrars (David Knight), is entirely believable. Knight presents Edward as instantly likeable: a slightly awkward, morally grounded man whose internal conflict is subtly conveyed through gesture and expression. His dual role as Robert Ferrars – distinguished simply by the addition of glasses – is a delightful touch and executed with precision.
In contrast, Jacqueline Ardron’s Marianne Dashwood is vibrant and emotionally expansive. She fully inhabits Marianne’s passion and impulsiveness, taking us on what is arguably the most significant emotional journey of the play. Ardron captures both the exhilaration of romantic idealism and the devastation of its collapse with impressive range.
The two men who vie for Marianne’s affections offer a compelling contrast. John Willoughby (Bhav Bhella) is charming and confident, drawing both Marianne and the audience into his orbit. Yet Colonel Brandon (Tom Young) provides a quieter, more steadfast presence. Young plays Brandon with remarkable dignity and emotional depth; his reserved nature never detracts from his impact. A particularly moving speech concerning Eliza is delivered with such sincerity that it almost brings the audience to tears. In Brandon, we see not just restraint, but integrity, and it becomes impossible not to root for him.
Amélie Wilson-Knight as Margaret Dashwood is a joy to watch. Her comic timing and expressive reactions add lightness to the production, while also hinting at a shifting future for women beyond marriage. Meanwhile, Mary Delahunty’s Mrs Dashwood offers a warm and loving matriarchal presence, with moments of subtle humour, particularly in an awkward exchange with Edward, that are beautifully judged.
The staging is notably minimalistic, relying primarily on a small number of chairs and simple set pieces to establish location. While I would perhaps have welcomed a little more distinction between settings such as Norland and Barton Cottage, this simplicity does not detract from the production. In fact, it allows the performances to take centre stage. The audience becomes so invested in the narrative that we find ourselves physically reacting (cringing, smiling, wincing) as we are completely absorbed in the emotional lives of these characters.
One particularly unexpected highlight is the duel between Colonel Brandon and Willoughby. The fight choreography is excellent, delivering a tense and convincing scene that adds a layer of drama. Both Bhella and Young handle this moment with skill and commitment.
Finally, the music and costume design (John Bale) work seamlessly together to transport us into another era. The Regency-inspired score gently underpins the action without interrupting it, acting as a constant reminder of time and place. Combined with the costumes and staging, there is a genuine sense of immersion; for a few hours, we are no longer in Leicester, but firmly within Austen’s world.
Directly beautifully by John Bale, this is a production that balances humour, heart and humanity with great care. It honours Austen’s narrative while bringing a fresh sense of playfulness and immediacy. I left thoroughly entertained, emotionally engaged, and, perhaps most importantly, reminded why these characters continue to resonate.
A thoroughly enjoyable evening of theatre.
Sense and Sensibility is playing at The Little Theatre until Saturday 9 May.
Photos credit: Jonathan Pryke
