Not Only Opera

Sweet dreams: A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Bridge Theatre

A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Bridge Theatre
Gallery B29, £15
9 July 2019
Bridge Theatre page

People have raved about Nicholas Hytner’s new production of Dream for his Bridge Theatre, and others have deplored it. I sit somewhere in the middle. Hytner’s interpretative gambit, to tighten the connections between Theseus and Oberon, Hippolyta and Titania, and then to swap the lines for Titania and Oberon, yields interesting results that I think justify the liberty taken; but thoughtless handling introduces a weirdly anti-gay feeling that is uncomfortable at best. Add in a giddy festival atmosphere that emphasises spectacle over theatre and if you like it you’ll love it and if you don’t then you’ll feel distinctly ejected from the party.

So let’s start with the line switching – an invasive gimmick, for sure, but the results are worth it for a one-off. The implied setup is that Hippolyta has witchy powers which she uses to influence Theseus’ dreams and make him learn the error of his paternalistic, authoritarian and violent ways, ways which have led to her capture and which if unchanged will make the rest of her life miserable. I like the implication of this arc for Theseus, given the text has him so nice to the mechanicals in their play; rather than make this kindly Theseus from the end of the play cognate with the wife-capturing, daughter-murdering Theseus of the beginning Hytner implies he more than anyone has been changed by the dreams – a sweet, sympathetic and unchallenging reversal.

Similarly by this change the nastiness between Titania and Oberon is de-toothed. Hippolyta armed with Oberon’s words is not selfishly bickering about the prize of an orphan boy, or maliciously humiliating her spouse to subjugate him to her will – instead, she is the morally superior liberal gently and harmlessly teaching Theseus the error of his aggressive ways, so that he learns to be less confidant in himself and more accepting of others. I sound a little mocking but I think part of that is towards myself, and how charmed I was by this revisioning. How nice and plainly entertaining Dream is without its misogyny; and, importantly, such a substantial change doesn’t feel like a strain on the text, highlighting the care of the intervention and, once again, the endless richness of Shakespeare’s play.

Plain entertainment and good will to all people is the order of the day for Hytner: as well as neutralising the most uncomfortable (some might say interesting) parts of the play he throws in acrobats, music shows, huge helpings of physical comedy and the rabble-rousing penning of the standing audience, done with the same extraordinary sophistication as in Julius Caesar. There the turbum was part of the play’s fabric; here it’s more about raising audience excitement to hysterical fever pitch. Mission accomplished: I don’t think I’ve before seen such a giggly and shouty crowd at a Shakespeare play.

The cost is to Shakespearean acting. All participants seem to recognise they are there for their contribution to the spectacle, not as interpreters of verse; those in the audience looking for beautiful declamation or nuanced delivery or considered characterisation will be disappointed. Though I love to hear Shakespeare spoken well I’m not convinced this is too much of a loss, given how frequently Dream is performed, but if you expect Hytner to maintain a certain standard or respect for the craft then he seemingly disagrees.

Where I do feel more uncomfortable is with the reaction encouraged to the pairing of Bottom and Oberon. There are some double standards at play, of course – it’s been fine to ridicule Titania and her relationship with Bottom for centuries. But the relative newness of, for example, the legalisation of gay marriage means some sensitivity is needed in how easy it is to laugh at Oberon for his love of Bottom, or at least more sensitivity than is granted here. The apparent novelty to most of the audience of seeing a gay relationship on stage sent many into peals of excited laughter, egged on by the atmosphere – and then with all this Hytner baulked at showing us a gay kiss, teasingly, immaturely, denying the pairing any more than pantomime silliness. Why? I’m really not sure; other than that, by design, this was the most unchallenging production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream that could be conceived.