A Midsummer Night’s Dream
The Other Place, Stratford-Upon-Avon
24 June 2026
Co-Directed by Rachel Bagshaw and Robin Belfield

At The Other Place, this co-production between the RSC and the Unicorn Theatre offers a striking reimagining of A Midsummer Night’s Dream (currently the only production repping Shakespeare in the RSC’s season) and running until 30 August. The plot is, of course, one we all know: lovers run away to the forest, fairies meddle, a group of hapless actors rehearse a play, and chaos ensues before order is (somewhat) restored. As one of Shakespeare’s most frequently performed plays, the challenge lies not simply in evoking its magic, but in rediscovering it, re-enchanting it for an audience who often arrive knowing its rhythms and outcomes. This production meets that challenge head-on, not by resisting familiarity, but by transforming it and leaning fully into the dreamlike, mercurial qualities of the play and allowing magic to permeate every layer of the theatrical experience.

Foremost among its triumphs is how to work with a cast of just eight actors across the entire play. Chris Jared’s Theseus and Amelia Donkor’s Hippolyta (also doubling as Oberon and Titania) anchor the world with clarity and presence. The fairy King and Queen are particularly physical and visceral, showcasing a snarling energy that elevates the whole concept of their argument shaking the mortal world. The lovers – Scout Worsley (Hermia), Shahin Rezvani (Demetrius), Kaireece Denton (Lysander), and Boni Adeliyi (Helena) – transform seamlessly into the Mechanicals, while Emmy Stonelake’s (rather wonderful) Bottom doubles as Egeus. Josephine-Fransilja Brookman’s Puck threads through the shifting identities of the ensemble with gleeful precision. Inevitably, some characters – poor Philostrate and even Snout – fall to the cutting room floor, but this feels less like loss and more like distillation. The result is an 80-minute version that is efficient without ever feeling rushed; dynamic, pacey, and delightfully alive with possibility.

There is something inherently magical in the act of transformation itself, and that becomes one of the production’s guiding principles. The multi-roling is not simply a practical device but a theatrical engine: identities slip and reform, boundaries blur, and the sense of dream intensifies. It becomes entirely appropriate that the same performers who play earnest lovers also inhabit the comically earnest Mechanicals; after all, in dreams, we rarely remain just one thing.

This spirit of transformation is deeply aligned with the Unicorn Theatre’s ethos. Their commitment to accessibility, collaboration, and impact is not simply visible but foundational. Will Monks’ creative captioning is an absolute revelation: words appear across the space as they are spoken by the cast, illuminating settings, offering texture, and at times anticipating or echoing the action. They dart, shimmer, and sparkle across the space, becoming as transient and playful as the fairies themselves. Rather than sitting outside the action, the captions are woven into it, expanding the imaginative landscape. This is accessibility not as a functional layer, but as a creative force and one that enhances the magic for all.

That magic is further conjured through a richly textured design world. Holly Khan’s soundscape throbs with energy and atmosphere, creating an aural landscape that feels alive, unpredictable, and slightly untethered from reality. Sally Ferguson’s lighting design is equally evocative, shifting effortlessly between worlds, guiding the audience through the fluid logic of the dream. Together with the voices of the fairies (provided by children from the Unicorn Theatre’s Creative Hub) the production builds a fully immersive environment that feels enchanted, as though the boundaries between stage and imagination have quietly dissolved. The result is a theatrical space that positively sizzles with other-worldliness.

The ensemble work at the heart of the piece is a constant delight. There is a palpable sense of play, of shared ownership, and of deep trust between performers. The clarity of storytelling never falters, even as roles shift at speed, and there is a generosity in performance that invites the audience into the game. Credit must go to Robin Belfield for an edit that is both meticulous and intuitive, preserving the charm, humour, and emotional stakes of the original while allowing the piece to breathe within its compact form. Nothing feels extraneous; everything feels purposeful.

Under the co-direction of Robin Belfield and Rachel Bagshaw, this well-trodden text reveals fresh glimmers of possibility. Moments that might typically pass unnoticed are given space to resonate; familiar exchanges feel newly minted.

A moment that encapsulates the production’s spirit arrives during a super-quick costume change: Egeus appears by poking their head through a hole in the wall, only for a moustache mishap to occur. Instead of smoothing over the interruption, it is gleefully acknowledged and incorporated, drawing the audience into a shared moment of complicity. It is playful, spontaneous, and quietly profound and a reminder that theatre’s magic often lies in its liveness, its willingness to embrace the unexpected.

Throughout, the production embraces the instability of dreams, where logic bends and time compresses, and where transformation is always just around the corner. In doing so, it captures something essential about A Midsummer Night’s Dream: that its magic is not fixed, but fluid and something to be continually rediscovered.

Overall, this is a wonderful piece of theatre -rich with invention, deeply considered, and utterly joyous from beginning to end. It reminds us that even the most familiar of Shakespeare’s plays can still surprise, still shimmer, and still enchant when approached with imagination and care. Go and see it if you can.