Much Ado About Nothing, Selfridges, review: 'A well-executed performance, but little time for deeper analysis'

A slick production of an abbreviated version of Shakespeare's comedy

The masked ball scene from Selfridges production of ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ (Simon Annand)

At Selfridges, all the store’s a stage. Well, the lower ground floor, at least, which has opened its doors to a pop-up theatre for the first time in its 107-year existence.

In collaboration with The Faction theatre company, the reFASHIONED Theatre presents an impressively short rendition of Much Ado About Nothing to mark the 400th anniversary of The Bard’s death.

The stage of the small black box theatre room runs between UV strobe lights acting as columns and the traverse stage (aptly) acts as catwalk for the small cast of nine to parade their perfected verse on.

Beatrice’s fiery and witty performance, played by Alison O’Donnell, represents the modern woman, while Benedick (Daniel Boyd) carries the show with his sincerely funny scenes and slightly camp attitude – namely crawling along the floor where he hears the news, in a purposely deceitful plot, that Beatrice is madly in love with him. This finally draws the audience to laugh – but it’s been a lengthy wait for a comedy.

The duo intellectually bicker their way into assuring one another’s love is equalled, putting Beatrice on par with Benedick in the battle between the sexes, while the wrongly disgraced Hero (Lowri Izzard) and her baby-faced suitor Claudio (Harry Lister Smith) battle through evil deceit and lies to finally form what becomes essentially an arranged marriage.

Co-directors Mark Lepacher and Rachel Valtine Smith heighten the gender war by replacing Leonato with Leonata (Caroline Langrishe) who plays Hero’s mother, instead of the traditional father character, ignoring the dismissive roles assigned to women in the play. Desperate attempts to make the play champion its comedic title are often washed over, and the modern adaptation is reminiscent of Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet with digital additions throughout from on-screen newspaper cuttings, Twitter posts and paparazzi flashes.

Interjecting news reports presented by the comedian Meera Syal helps move the storyline along with breaking news, while the comedic authorities of Dogberry and Verges are played by Simon Callow and Rufus Hound, rather oddly on CCTV which projects into the family house.

The 90-minute show is a well-executed performance, but leaves little time for deeper analysis, where themes and tropes are only touched upon and largely skirted around resulting in a lack of space for growth. Despite strong and eloquent performances, the brevity – which is appealing in some ways for younger audiences – sacrifices the beauty Shakespeare so cleverly builds. But a breathless show with minimal props still results in a slick production.