Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare’s comedy-turned-tragedy of young love, bitter grudge and wasted lives, is one of his most performed works and has become a cultural shorthand for doomed, forbidden romance. Now it gets a new adaptation courtesy of The Banbury Cross Players and director Katy Roberts, who has abridged the script down to an elliptical 90 minutes. For context, that’s over an hour shorter than an entirely faithful adaptation might take. Unfortunately, this comes off as more summarized than potent at times. The play is off to a great start with the performances of Benvolio (Zac Lacey-Rousou) and Romeo (Alex King), who convey the chummy camaraderie of long-term friendship with ease. Sensible and sensitive, Benvolio is a character that can easily get lost amongst the bigger personalities in the script, but Lacey-Rousou portrays him here with captivating immediacy and charm, crafting one of the standout performances of the show.
Meanwhile, as Romeo, King walks the audience down a delicate line of affection and amusement: yes, Romeo is a hopeless sap, but don’t you feel for him in this moment? His performance is sort of like that of a self-deprecating comedian: self-aware enough to know they are being ridiculous, but still resolutely sincere in their delivery. It’s an effective and compelling way to harness the energy of a production that veers in tone between comedy and tragedy throughout.
This adaptation feels tilted in focus towards Romeo as the lead character. Juliet’s lines are trimmed (as are others, although it feels more meaningful in her case), and Lady and Lord Capulet’s roles are melded into one - a corporate and detached Lady Capulet. The problem with this amalgamation is we never get a real sense of the tension in the elder generation of the Montagues and Capulets - whose feud is the driving force behind the play. And yet, the adaptation left in several of The Nurse’s monologues - a Nurse who, while deftly played by Helen Williams, is an entirely generic take on the character.
By obscuring the familial pressures entrapping Juliet, we lose her internal struggle, and she is reduced to a straightforward love interest, rather than a complex character in her own right. This is hugely frustrating, especially as Sophie Jasmin Bird’s portrayal of the character is excellent - luminous and layered - and the show would have benefitted from giving her more time on stage.
This is in some ways intended to be a modern take: Lady Capulet types away on her smartphone while conversing with Juliet, all characters are dressed in modern garb, and the apothecary is clearly a shady drug dealer. And yet, the logic for this update is not clear or consistent: Juliet’s age is updated from 13 to 25 (surely Romeo and Juliet really only make sense as teenage characters, all raging hormones and immediacy?) but the character's streetwise switchblades are still called ‘rapiers’ and while the Capulet’s ball is still called a masquerade, no one is wearing a mask.
The awkwardness of the stage fighting: also hindered my suspension of disbelief. Sitting in a no-mans-land between symbolic gestures at violence and choreographed stunt work, the result didn't quite capture the immediacy or passion of the characters.
This left the famous duel between Mercutio and Tybalt is also underwhelming, largely due to a strange take on the famously hotblooded and flamboyant Mercutio as stoically cool and restrained. This embodiment seemed to pit the words and the actor against one another and undermined Lizzie Forward's enthused and capable performance as Mercutio.
While we’re on that subject, the decision to use a bed on wheels in every other scene was made questionable by having two theatre staff members come on stage at the start or end of each scene to clip it into and out of place.
There are some sublime moments - Romeo dissolving into a panic attack after slaying Tybalt, for example, was a very effective reminder of his vulnerability and made his ensuing desperation more believable. But this is slightly drowned out by the near-constant sobbing of various characters (there’s a significant amount of time given to Paris’ weeping over Juliet’s body, the intended emotional effect of which is unclear).
The scenes between Romeo and Juliet feel hurried at times, and bizarrely drained of language - their flirtation at the ball is reduced to gazing at one another across a swirling disco dancefloor, and the tragic scene wherein they meet their demise is done without dialogue entirely (these violent delights have silent ends, apparently). In doing this, the production cut some iconic lines.
These are risk-taking choices, and at times I was grateful for them. Take the dancefloor scene, for instance. There was something seductively relatable about the set-up, and it made the ‘love at first sight’ premise click for me in a way it hasn’t before. Who hasn’t, while bruised, met someone who so entirely ticked your boxes it made you feel struck by lightning? Who hasn’t had an earth-shattering crush? And yet, after that transfixing moment, we don’t really see their repartee. They are rushed from scene to scene - the balcony, the marriage, the pained farewell - with little chance for us to witness their chemistry. And this would be more forgivable if the play wasn’t seemingly operating on the idea that this love affair is the heart of the story.
The plot of Romeo and Juliet unfolds over just five days. The idea that Romeo and Juliet’s love story is somehow the purest, truest love ever encountered is not a plausible conclusion, or what makes their sorry ends a tragedy. In fact, they’re clearly dumb kids drowning in lust and mostly just in love with the idea of one another. The tragedy is that this in and of itself is not a crime, and yet thanks to their parents’ self-absorption and bitterness, it ruins their lives. Intergenerational trauma is the true villain at the heart of the story, making fools of all involved. But this production glides over this in its climax, closing uneasily on the wordless deaths of its leads, and not the usual reconciliation of the warring households.
Still, despite my misgivings about certain directorial choices, I had a good time. I would rather watch a risk-tasking production where not every risk rewards me, then one that leans easily on convention. I appreciated that as director, Katy Roberts gamely employed new methods to bring this story to life, and it made me consider what I valued about the play in a way I hadn’t previously. And as the titular characters, King and Bird left it all on the theatre stage. This adaptation was an entertaining, sincere and pacey ninety minutes, elevated by some excellent performances. I’ll look forward to seeing what the Banbury Cross Players do with their next production.