“For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo”

Teenagers avoiding their parents, bending the truth, getting into misadventurous scrapes? Scrapping with their enemies and then alienating their mates? Falling headlong into a pit of hyperbole while falling head-over-heels in love? School play, you say? No acting needed, surely. “Just be yourselves, ladies and gents,” was surely the call from director, Mrs Bird when rehearsals began.

But here’s the rub: Romeo and Juliet is a really hard play to act, especially if you’re not from a city that’s accustomed to civic strife and civil disobedience (like Bath…) and attend a school where indiscipline rarely treads beyond mild grumpiness or opening mouth before engaging brain. It asks teenage actors to consider their own mortality. It asks teenage actors to manage ‘adulting’ convincingly, enacting the very people they have undoubtedly pronounced to be ‘so unfair’ in recent history.

Yet here’s the good news: King Edwards’ Senior production of Shakespeare’s best-known tragedy took what could have felt remarkably familiar and made it unfamiliar and remarkable. The most obvious innovation was that the play was, strictly speaking, Romeos and Juliets, with five of each character appearing on stage simultaneously. The eponymous pair had their lines divided up by the facets of their personalities. One trait could be speaking, but another trait would take over the next line, reinforcing just how this complex young pair vacillate hugely.

Horry Foster was lovesick Romeo. He whinged with aplomb, portraying the side of Romeo that never gets a grip. Ollie Cochran was a more logical, pragmatic and cynical Romeo, bringing a calm likeability. Zak Rosenfeld was definitely Romeo the ‘lad’, the cheekiest of chappies, acting up to his bullish kinsmen. Adj Moayedi was ‘fight you’ Romeo, always adj-itated (geddit?) and curiously adept at taking lives, considering his kill list by the end. Xander Spencer-Jones was love-struck Romeo, conveying how love is the overwhelming drug that bends his brain so far out of shape. 

India Purdie gave us Juliet the youthful philosopher, full of the empathy and compassion that makes Juliet seem older than her nearly fourteen years. Naomi Poole was wide-eyed, romantic Juliet, quietly amped and crazy in love. Izzy Hughes was playful Juliet, impetuous and ripe for misadventure. Ella Featherstone was the old head on young shoulders, frequently more slow, steady and authoritative in her speech. Lollie McKenzie was Juliet the worrier, the queen of the furrowed brow.
Live and recorded music gave the production extra atmospheric clout. Nina Simone’s Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood bookended and punctuated the play, with the dulcet clarity of Maddie Davies’ solo voice reminding us repeatedly of the essence of any tragic hero, “I’m just a soul whose intentions are good.” 

Romeo and Juliet’s downfall was aided spectacularly by further youthful folly. Mercutio, the unrepentant firestarter, has so many difficult lines, but these were deployed with subtlety and excellent physicality by Thomas Crawford. Tybalt, equally incendiary, was brought to us with the sneering venom of Josh Bernald Ross. Nice guy Benvolio was enacted with refreshing benevolence by Ebony Hammond. The eminently punchable, presumptuous pomposity of Paris came through perfectly via James Carney’s spot-on snivelling.

Those playing adults bridged the generation gap admirably. Rosie Cooper and Emma Botterill shared Lady Capulet duties for two nights each. Glamorous, powerful, yet movingly brittle, both could have graced a Peaky Blinders set, or Albert Square. Sam Holdsworth’s Lord Capulet was like a dapper Danny Dyer, equally convincing as doting Dad or self-righteous patriarch. Davide Montani and Amy Smith (Lord and Lady Montague) showed, with every exasperated shrug, that they had lost control from the off.

The worst meddlers in Romeo and Juliet are, inarguably, The Nurse and Friar Lawrence (Vicar Lawrence in this production). The Prince can also be placed high on the list of Verona’s ‘enemies of the peace’, with his masterclass in how not to run a city. Ellie Brown’s Nurse was a West Country Sarah Millican, turning from comic to deadly serious in a heartbeat. Issy Hodge made Lawrence very much a contemporary ‘cool vicar’ character, so eager to be ‘down with the kids’ that she resorts to one of history’s most ludicrous plans to escape the hole they’ve collectively excavated. Henry Skinner delivered many of his lines through a loud haler, his exasperated tones reinforcing just how little heed anyone in Verona pays to the Prince.

As with any good school play, it was a splendid ensemble piece, with the Capulet and Montague Gang, Capulet’s domestic staff, the Vicar’s church choir, Verona’s beleaguered police force, Friar John and the Apothecary contributing strength in depth, very much the glue that held the whole bold enterprise in place.

Shakespeare showed us how a whole city can get things spectacularly, tragically wrong. King Edward’s turned it into a thing of grisly beauty and gave us hope for the future by getting things just right.

Review by Mr J Kean
English Teacher

Flickr album: Romeo and Juliet - Senior School Production, December 2019 | Height: auto | Theme: Default