SELS Dialogues Journal Volume 3 Issue 1

Creative Pursuits
Stratford’s New Much Ado
by Ilana Lucas
A giant glowing ring, suspended from a massive tree,
presides over the set (designed by Julie Fox) of director
Chris Abraham’s uproarious Much Ado About Nothing at
the Stratford Festival. Sometimes spinning, sometimes
still, it’s not the One Ring that Frodo must consign
to the fires of Mount Doom, but a representation of
the contract of marriage and premarital demand of
chastity, themes which also constantly dangle over the
proceedings.
The ring also denotes a big fat zero, as in the trifle
that sparks a nearly life-ending predicament, or the
happy nothing that results from its villain’s scheming.
And, of course, in Shakespearean English, “nothing”
(pronounced more like “noting”) is slang for a woman’s
private parts, around which much of the play’s gossip
is concerned. In this updated Ado, the hoop also made
me think of the proverbial “brass ring” we all reach for to
achieve success — because Stratford’s production is a
winner.
Shakespeare’s gloriously grouchy and reluctant lovers,
Beatrice (Maev Beaty) and Benedick (Graham Abbey)
have formed the template for many a successful
romantic comedy. He swears he’ll never get married;
she’s been burned before, and wants to preserve her
personhood. Their bitchy brouhahas both entertain and
exasperate their families and friends, who decide to
fake them out into catching and declaring feelings for
each other. Meanwhile Benedick’s current BFF, Claudio
(Austin Eckert), finds himself desperately in love with
Beatrice’s dear cousin Hero (Allison Edwards-Crewe),
and hopes squad leader Don Pedro (a commanding
André Sills) will make the match.
Don Pedro’s sniveling bastard brother Don John
(Michael Blake) wishes to depose his brother in any way
possible, and fakes out the fake-outers, convincing Don
Pedro, Claudio, and even Hero’s father Leonato (Patrick
McManus) that she is unfaithful, an accusation that will
essentially remove her value as a mate, narrowing her
life to — that’s right — nothing. It’s now up to Beatrice
and Benedick to stop squabbling and preserve Hero’s
honour. The word honour is key here, yet another thing
about which there’s much ado. The show pokes fun at
the façade-like nature of honour, easily punctured and
riding on appearance, rather than deed.
One of the most significant unique aspects to the
production is Erin Shields’ added text at the beginning
and near the end of the play, both of which give the
women more agency. In a new opening monologue,
that dangling ring also represents the mirror into which
Hero stares, as Beatrice contemplates the nature of a
woman’s situation in a patriarchal world, along with our
inability to really know the lives of others or even fully
understand ourselves.
Shields later deals with the lingering question of whether
Hero really should forgive Claudio, given his ability to
go from a dopey-eyed placer of women on pedestals
to pedestal-pusher and incel at a moment’s notice.
Shields gives Hero a beautiful speech which explains
her rationale and breaks the character’s silence, and
Edwards-Crewe brings true depth and passion to it,
elevating the character from simply a wronged, chaste
bride. While you’ll likely notice the more modern ideals
of the additions, Shields does an admirable job of
capturing Shakespeare’s cadence so that they flow
into the rest of the play. The play may have received a
feminist upgrade, but that doesn’t mean it’s didactic.
Indeed, this production is joyful and high-energy, with
plenty of music courtesy of Thomas Ryder Payne (the
onstage band is an effective presence throughout,
often following and highlighting the action) and physical
comedy. Highlights of the latter include Beatrice and
Benedick’s attempts to stay stealthy behind gossipers
who are plainly aware of their presence. Whether it’s
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