45. YPS Comedy of Errors - RST

We possibly couldn’t have chosen a more dramatic shift in mood than going from The Rape of Lucrece to the YPS Comedy of Errors – thankfully a night of mild drinking, a legendary Adelphi breakfast and the fact that this production is something of an old friend (I first saw it in 2009) – eased us between the two. So by the next morning we were ready for the crazed, slightly psychotically gleeful, utterly energetically mad hour we were set to enjoy. And I have to say I still utterly love it.


Personally I think all of the recent productions the RSC have designed with children in mind have been fantastic, but not so secretly this might be my favourite. The reason I think it works so well is that it’s completely anarchic from start to finish and I think that’s incredibly effective for children. I think it excites them and scares them at the same time and that’s what draws them in, that space between the two. Nearly everything I loved as a child tread the line between these extremes, I had to be excited and scared and I think you see it working here as well – the children were almost on the edges of their seats, just short of jumping up and joining in themselves.

This anarchy also allows the cast to be very playful, stretching themselves to new and madder levels, changing things and making the most of any opportunities that appear. By far my favourite of these moments was when Dharmesh Patel’s Nell lost a bouncy ball breast (not a combination of words I ever expected to type) during her chase of Jonjo O’Neill’s Dromio, only later to be found by Richard Katz’s Antipholus with a simple and hilarious “Is this what I think it is?” This playfulness also means that the cast are delightfully silly in the best Pythonesque way. Whether it is through a mimed tennis match (complete with ball between the teeth at the end), or a puppet show with wooden spoons, or a tap dancing nun, or Christine Entwhisle giving the most amazing storm/rock performance I have ever seen, or Jonjo O'Neill and most of the audience breaking down as soaked through himself he said "She sweats". They're able to be incredibly free and unconcerned and inventive. Which is perfect.

The music too, created by the cast, added to this feeling of irreverence and mania – both in the wonderful ‘The Man is Mad’ and through all the rest. I still find myself wandering through London occasionally unable to resist bursting out with “Ma nama nama nama, ma ma ma na ma ma!” Plus they play the spoons, I really can’t resist anything that involves people playing the spoons.

Bright, energetic and infectiously funny – you couldn’t help laughing throughout, me and my friend still burst into giggles at the mere mention of kestrels (god bless James Trahearne and his attention to detail - must admit we may also have laughed hysterically at this for far longer that is normal at the time). It’s hard to imagine a better way to introduce kids to how much Shakespeare and the stage can offer them.