TWELFTH NIGHT by the Pop-up Globe Theatre Company

Images from eventfinda.co.nz and stuff.co.nz

“If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.” – William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

Monday morning. I’m vegetating in my 10am lecture, flipping noncommittally through the week’s copy of Craccum, when the title of the weekly editorial catches my eye: Romeo, Rome-oh No the Pop-up Globe is Closing. As both an English major and a pretentious asshole, great panic naturally ensued: the Pop-up Globe was closing in less than a week, and I, a self-professed (albeit admittedly #fake) Shakespeare fan, had not yet seen a play there.

Synonyms for this situation include: heresy, blasphemy, and absolute travesty.

Anxious to at least see something before the Globe moved on to greener pastures, I hastily booked tickets to see Twelfth Night by myself on Wednesday night, because I’m that person who goes to the theatre alone to “truly immerse myself in the art”, or something similarly aloof and socially alienating. My expectations were neutral: sure, it would be a cool cultural experience, and sure, it would be cool to lose my theatre virginity to a Shakespeare, but that was the extent of it.

My expectations were, it’s fair to say, obliterated.

Were I to call the Pop-up Globe Theatre Company’s rendition of Twelfth Night perfect, I do not feel I would not be exaggerating. The whole experience was simply stunning from start to finish. My jaw hurt from smiling so much; my hands hurt from clapping so much. My legs were killing me because I bought a groundling ticket and had to stand for the three hours, but honestly? Twelfth Night was worth the pain. I was enraptured, enchanted, completely blown away; before I had even left the theatre after the final bow, I was writing this review in my head, confessing to anyone who would listen my undying love for the production. To give you, humble readers who escaped my tirade of praise, an idea of what I so ardently admired and loved about Twelfth Night, here’s an overview:

1. I loved the acting. For me, someone who hasn’t read Twelfth Night and whose knowledge of Shakespeare does not encompass being able to interpret his 15th-century English on the spot, the acting really made the play for me. First and foremost, the all-male cast was hilarious -- all of the female characters were played by extraordinarily talented and highly convincing male actors, but what really got me was the chemistry the cast shared. The quote that comes to mind is, appropriately, Shakespearian: “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers” (Henry V 4.3). Because that was how it felt: as if I were watching a band of brothers gallivanting about that stage. As if the actors were a family. The interplay was simply infectious, light and flirty and natural – my synesthetic reaction was that the words felt tossed between the characters, the back-and-forth motion of the dialogue coherent and effortless. To sum it up in a word, Twelfth Night was strikingly charismatic, and I blame it all on the acting.

2. I loved the “scary audience interaction parts” -- or, more accurately, I loved the fact that it was meta as hell.  Now, obviously interacting with the audience isn’t a startlingly new innovation; I just thought that the Pop-up Globe Theatre Company did it really, really well. Buying a groundling ticket did mean that I had to stand for three hours, but I’ll say once again that it was worth it, because the yard was the place to be. Countless times did the characters interact with the crowd – gossiping with us, flirting with us, hiding amongst us (that’s right – the cast frequently ventured into the crowd and physically involving us in the play, Malvolio himself approaching me to show me the confessional Olivia had written to him), asking us for advice – it was hilarious to be engaged in such a way, and so much fun, and this is coming from a person who wears headphones with no music playing so that no one will talk to me in public. Involving the audience in the play dissolved the barrier between actor and audience member, so that even though the stage was elevated, I felt as if I were on it myself, an advisor on Olivia’s boy drama, a conspirator in Feste’s mischievous gang, a member of the happy few, the band of brothers who had me so completely transported.

3. I loved the atmosphere. I came away from Twelfth Night overcome by the sensation that I had never experienced anything quite as magical in my life. I can’t put my finger on why my enchantment was so extreme; all I can tell you is that I was moved so deeply, I swear there were cartoon sparkles in my eyes. The god-honest time of my life was had. The whole experience, from the fantastic acting to the awesome audience interaction to the fact that as the cast performed their final bow, a cascade of bubbles floated down from the upper tiers, catching the light like stars – it all came together to produce what to me felt like magic. I’ve said it twice and I’ll say it again: I was enchanted. Captivated. In love. Maybe it’s just me and my extraordinary ability to find beauty in the most mundane of things, but to say I marvelled in the experience would be a criminal understatement. It’s a silly cliché, but I could feel my heart glowing as I stood there beneath the stars.

One review of the Pop-up Globe Theatre Company’s Twelfth Night put it nicely: “I saw Shakespeare as it was meant to be performed” (stuff.co.nz). I could not agree more completely. The production was so intimate, so personal and exciting and, to put it plainly, fun, and for a Shakespearian comedy, I think this was exactly how it should have been portrayed. I’d say I’m sorry to gush, but I’m not; Twelfth Night was perfect, not only as a play but also as an experience I’m going to relive for years to come. Kudos to the Pop-up Globe Theatre Company: your rendition of Twelfth Night is a triumph.

Author’s note: This one’s a little unconventional, but aside from the fact that it’s a play and thus technically a form of literature, I like to live life on the edge. YOLO, and all. Live fast, die young, review plays instead of books or whatever. I’d also like to note that this review is probably the closest I’ve gotten to ever exhibiting, through the medium of the blog post, my violent passion for all things literary, and as a result, it’s a little incoherent. As they say, it can be really hard to describe why you love something, but I’ve tried my best with this. (Side note: if we’re being honest, a big part of my reaction to the play was my infatuation with the actor who plays Feste. I’m only, like, 5% smitten, okay? 10% at the most.) (I’m lying to myself. It’s 100%.)