There’s an awful lot to like about Tom Morris’s new production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and a fair amount that doesn’t quite work. On balance, the show is a great one, with enough beautiful moments and clever devices to invoke the magic of the fairy world that impinges on the lives of us mortals. And yet, it feels rather as though Morris has thrown all his thoughts at the show and then not stripped any away again – it’s a slightly messy set of ideas, some of which are not seen through or allowed to reach their potential.

Some of this mess is glorious – witty, visually spectacular and often laugh-out-loud funny. Bottom (Miltos Yerolemou) is one of the funniest – and most literal – I’ve seen. Yerolemou plays the part with gusto and, along with the other mechanicals, is extremely funny. However, there are other bits of the show that I really didn’t like. The verse-speaking often feels overblown and heavy, frequently prone to unnecessary stresses and odd pauses; it is jarring to hear and feels as though some odd directorial decisions have been made.

And then we come to the puppets. This production is Morris’s first collaboration with Handspring Puppet Company since War Horse, and the puppets are an integral part of the show. Some of them are, predictably, wonderful. The fairies are particularly lovely, a nice mixture of malevolence and mischief, and make perfect sense as other-worldly beings. The giant heads used to portray Titania (Saskia Portway) and Oberon (David Ricardo Pearce) don’t always work for me; you can see the human manipulators throughout, which I found rather distracting. Perhaps operators who fade into the background, foregrounding the puppets themselves, would have allowed them to truly shine. Here, we get both human actors and the puppets, which is slightly confusing. They are effective as representations of the power that the fairies exert over the humans, but this idea is not really developed. It does resurface right at the end when the gorgeous, giant wooden figures turn the lovers into their puppets where it is a striking visual image, for sure, but not necessarily one that adds anything to the play.

Nowhere is this sense of confusion clearer than in the decision to have the four lovers also each have a miniature puppet-version of themselves. Again, one doesn’t know where to look: are we supposed to be watching the (fantastic) human actors interacting with each other, or to block out their acting and only use their voices to give life to the puppets? It was not at all clear why these puppets were onstage. Were they supposed to represent the inner life selves of the lovers? Perhaps. But why, then, are they completely dispensed with in the second half? Often cradled like children or dolls by the actors in question, it is then weirdly creepy when Hermia (a stormingly fierce Akiya Henry) and Lysander (a pleasingly louche Alexander Felton) swap puppets when they settle down to sleep. In fact, there are parts where plain planks of wood are used to rather more effect than some of the puppets. This is not to disparage the puppets, which were beautiful objects, but rather to praise Vicki Mortimer’s design, which uses planks of varying sizes to become trees, musical instruments and hounds.

The cast not only interact fabulously well with their wooden cast members but are also  uniformly brilliant actors. Henry’s Hermia is the standout for me, particularly during the fight scene, but Naomi Cranston’s Helena charts an impressive course from weedy to powerful, too. All of the Mechanicals play their parts with gleeful abandon; they are ridiculously over the top and all the funnier for it. Colin Micheal’s put-upon Quince is a delight, and Saikat Ahamed gets a lot of laughs as a non-English-speaking Snug. Stealing the Mechanicals’ show, though, is David Emmings’s Snout: his lop-sided Wall is utterly brilliant. The human-human interactions are beautifully played and excellently directed.

The second half is much punchier than the first, which occasionally feels baggy. As the madness of the woods takes hold of the characters, the play comes into its own: the magic begins to come alive properly and it becomes uproariously funny. Overall, it’s a very funny Dream, and one that will stick in the mind. I spent most of the second half giggling and left thoroughly contented. It’s a visually gorgeous production, with perhaps a few too many puppets. There were times (mainly when jellyfish appeared, for no discernible reason) when this Dream really was beyond the wit of man to tell what dream it was, and others when it was tender, clever and hilarious. A production that touches on the good, the bad and the odd.

A Misdummer Night’s Dream is at Bristol Old Vic until 4 May. For more information and tickets please visit BOV’s website.

Photo: Simon Annand.

Tom Morris’s new production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream marks his first collaboration with Handspring puppet company since War Horse. Eleanor Turney caught up with Akiya Henry (Hermia) and Alex Felton (Lysander) to find out what audiences can expect from the show.

Think of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and what comes to mind? Fairies, love and happy endings, probably. It is one of the less ambiguous of Shakespeare’s comedies, and potentially one of the filthiest. Actors Akiya Henry and Alex Felton, tell me that this production is going to be “a magical, sexual joyride, with puppets”. Henry is clear that Dream is described as “a sexually charged comedy”, which explains its 12+ recommendation. Felton tells me that it was “great to dig up the filthy stuff, it makes it immediate – everyone can relate to love and sex”. That’s not to say that Henry and Felton don’t see the more serious side to the play, too. Felton continues: “This stuff is part of why it’s so popular – it touches on such eloquent stuff about love as well as the silly stuff”. Henry concurs: “It’s a magical adventure that really focuses on the relationship of the human condition and love”.

I speak to the two actors in their lunch break in the last week of rehearsals before A Midsummer Night’s Dream opens, and it sounds as though they are having a wonderful time. “Tom [Morris, Artistic Director of Bristol Old Vic] allows us to just create things,” continues Henry. “He makes a very safe place to play – the creative team is very brave and fearless, and makes you try things you’d never normally consider. He lets you jump in at the deep end. It’s like coming in every day to an adventure playground.” They may be having fun now, but Henry and Felton both stress that learning to work with puppets has been a steep learning curve. “It was,” says Henry, “entirely new! Thank goodness we had a really invaluable week solely on the puppetry – the guys working with us, from Handspring, have dedicated their whole lives to this and have so much expertise to pass on – we’re trying to learn enough of a thing that takes a lifetime to master to do their puppets justice on stage.” Felton describes it as “a crazy, lovely journey to discover your relationship to the puppet and to animate it, and to see how it connects to the audience or to another actor”.

Both actors namecheck Little Angel’s A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings as showing them what can be done with puppets. “to see [the show] in action was a huge learning curve – it’s such a humble way of storytelling; you put yourself into something else purely to tell the story,” says Felton. Henry agrees: “One of the lessons you learn is just basic trust – as an actor you come into the rehearsal room and you have to trust the director and your fellow actors, that’s a given. To then have to really think about trusting this object, too… you look at it and it looks like a piece of wood, and you have to make it come to life and the only way that happens is if you really believe it. A Very Old Man highlighted how much you have to invest and trust in it.”

It helps, of course, that this is not Director Tom Morris’s first collaboration with Handspring: he directed War Horse at the National Theatre, which has since gone on to storm the West End and Broadway. However, both actors are keen to point out that Morris’s approach as a director is to start from scratch every time. “The great thing about working with Tom is that everything he works on, even a revival, he starts as if it’s a brand new piece. He sees it as a new piece, new people, new projects, so there is no pressure to compare to a previous production,” says Henry. She is full of praise for how Morris works, too: “He really works had to make sure that everyone has a brilliant experience. What’s been really lovely in the rehearsal room is that he has a way of making you feel like it’s a complete collaboration – he uses the word ‘ensemble’ a lot and makes everyone feel part of putting the show together. You can really tell when you see a show that everyone is connected, everyone is important.” Felton is equally enthusiastic: “He’s a dream. We all adore him. He’s very nurturing. God knows how, but he’s got this production out of us without us really noticing! It never felt like an effort, really, which takes a huge amount of skill from the director.”

Both actors seems very at home in Bristol, too. Bristol Old Vic is very much a theatre on the up at the moment, re-establishing itself firmly on the theatre scene after its refurb and a rocky few years, before Morris and Executive Director Emma Stenning took the helm. Felton has preformed all over the country recently, and says “Bristol has been my favourite city. It’s got such a buzz, a bit like Berlin, like Britain’s Berlin. There is such a creative vibe, so many creative people and artists.” Henry, who is an associate artists of BOV, describes the city as “a place that nurtures new talent, that allows you to adventure into the unknown. Bristol, like Germany and some other European places, has a fearlessness in the presentation of storytelling. Working here, you just feel like you’re at home. It’s a joyous place to be.”

As a fairly new resident of this part of the world, I have to agree: Bristol is a city with more creative things going on that you would think possible in a city of 500,000 people. Both actors refer to its “buzz”, and Bristol Old Vic with its imaginative programme of work plays a large part in creating and sustaining that vibe. A Midsummer Night’s Dream sounds like another reason to keep Bristol firmly on the cultural map. Leave your under-12s behind and get your tickets.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream will be at Bristol Old Vic from 28 February until 4 May. For more information and tickets visit the BOV’s website.

There is no denying that War Horse has found a place within the hearts of the British people. Now in its sixth year, including a worldwide tour, this National Theatre production shows the possibilities when hard work and love is put to the test. Set during the First World War, War Horse sees Joey, a strong and beautiful riding horse being reared by Albert (Luke Jerdy) until he is volunteered for the war effort. Joey finds himself serving England before being caught by the Germans and put to work. Albert meanwhile pines for his beloved horse and runs away from home in a quest to be reunited on the front line. Michael Morpurgo’s novel has been adapted well for the stage, although it can’t be said it was always the case.

For this reviewer it is not the first time that Joey has appeared on the New London Theatre stage. Back in 2009, I reviewed War Horse and found the script weak. Nick Stafford’s adaption was, and in many ways still is, thin, with the story stretched out. It’s a story of companionship and of crossing boundaries within the war, but once again I’ve left the theatre feeling a coldness. This indifference stems from Morpurgo’s story, one that I struggle to relate to, and even if I look at the themes of the piece: love, hope, resilience and struggle. I still find little room for the piece in my theatrical memory. Something doesn’t stick, the story doesn’t move me or give me a sense of the journey that the characters are meant to have gone on.

In many ways the production is charming, especially the first half which has a gentle and rural quality to it. The opening is particularly striking, not for its dramatic power but rather for its subtly and care. As for the puppetry work, there is no faulting Handspring Puppet Company for their craft at bringing alive the dynamics of these creatures. Naturally, the puppeteers are to be championed as the stars of the shows. After a second watch, perhaps my disengagement with War Horse comes from not connecting to this central character of a horse. Joey is used as a form of marketing for the National Theatre, attending events, staging mini spectacles on the roof of the National Theatre, and in television commercials, that instead of a spectacle of craft, I see money and marketing. If this is the case, then it is sad for me that I can’t sink into the magic of the production without seeing the profitability of this central character.

I’m not saying there is anything wrong with War Horse being a success at the box office. Funding for the arts is entering yet again another perilous moment under the current government, and whilst the Arts Council England might continuously put the National Theatre onto the pedestal for its entrepreneurship and business sense, War Horse has allowed for other works to find their feet through its subsidy. There certainly is nothing wrong with that! I just wish that the joy of seeing a live stage production with realistic and beautiful puppets would linger longer than the short walk to the exit of the theatre.

As for the cast, they are all suitably talented. Jerdy makes a fine Albert, and is supported by the ensemble considerably well. Yet again I find myself frustrated at the role of Friedrich Müller (Richard Cant) whose shift from stern German officer to realising the affects of war and attempting to save the horses, rambles and leaves the second half lacking in dynamic. The constant switching of languages, whilst reflecting those caught in this war, does become tiresome. It feels very heavy, and I’d even been inclined to say it becomes a tad trite and boring. However all is not lost. As a whole, a second viewing of War Horse does reveal the extensive work that has gone into tightening the script and to refining the staging. Directors Tom Morris and Marianne Elliott have created a performance that captures the hearts of those who flock to see the show, and whilst it doesn’t completely break through my stoney heart, it clearly affected the rest of the audience.

Theatre should do its best to offer its audience a gift, something to captivate them during the show and last for days afterwards. War Horse clearly has a mass-market appeal, and with the increasing number of tours around the world it is clear that Joey will keep on galloping for many years to come. It might leave me cold, but the piece has certainly evolved and grown since 2009. It doesn’t leave me a parting gift of wonder, but other audiences have found much within Morris and Elliott’s direction and the work of Handspring Puppet Company. It clearly has captured British hearts, and who am I to get in the way of such a force? If I liked all I saw I’d feel dejected by the very thing I love – the magic of theatre. So War Horse, may you continue to gallop, but don’t expect me to spectate again. We’re just not meant to be together (unlike Albert and Joey, clearly).

War Horse continues its run at the New London Theatre in the West End. For more information and tickets, see the official stage show website of War Horse.

I have fond memories of a summer spent delving in and out of Arthur Ransome’s classic children’s novel, Swallows and Amazons, so it was with fairly high, nostalgia-charged expectations that I arrived at the Sheffield Lyceum for Bristol Old Vic’s production, currently touring after sell-out success in Bristol and the West End.

It certainly didn’t disappoint. Helen Edmundson’s script brings the novel to life in a wonderfully effusive fashion, capturing all the salient elements of the story and establishing strong characters from the largest role to the smallest. Set in 1929, the stage show elegantly brings to life the playfulness of the novel. It also manages to cleverly and delicately balance this with the extreme seriousness of the game of goodies versus baddies that the main characters, all of whom are children, play, first at war with Amazons Peggy and Nancy before joining forces to launch a united attack on the deadly Captain Flint.

At the centre of the story are the Walker children, ranging from Roger, aged nearly eight, to Captain John, the eldest at 12.  There is a real sense of family unity and the intricate relationships between the siblings here, with a particularly notable performance from Katie Moore as Susan, struggling against her motherly tendencies and desire to make everyone tea and buttered eggs. Richard Holt adeptly captures the conflicting emotions of a young boy on the cusp of adolescence, and Akiya Henry is mesmerising as middle child Titty, quietly philosophising on having to shout to be heard when you are neither youngest nor oldest in a beautiful solo. Because this is a musical as well as an adaptation, and Neil Hannon’s lyrics and melodies are beautifully evocative of the sense of space and freedom that the children feel as their imaginations run wild.

Much about the production is true to its early twentieth-century roots with lovely contemporary costumes (think cricket jumpers and shorts), but there are ingenious modern twists round every corner. Songs have tinges of various musical traditions and the most notable of this is the unforgettable ‘Amazon Pirate’ song. The wonderfully villainous (but ultimately good-hearted) Amazons, Celia Adams and Sophie Waller, go with the flow here, turning their anthem into a raucous rap. Things – props, animals, settings – are brought to life in a vibrant fashion, too, with an ethos of “make do and mend”. Everyday objects become anything from a mythical harpy made of secateurs and bin bags to picture frames that reveal what’s going on in windows and at the end of telescopes. There is a level of detail and intelligence in the design here that is just wonderful to watch and is deliciously voyeuristic.

We are taken on an engrossing journey with the Walkers as they travel about the stage in skeleton rowing boats and throw themselves around with a wonderfully childish energy and enthusiasm. Stewart Wright as baby of the family Roger provides a masterclass in acting a very young role without relying on stereotype or caricature, and rightly gets many of the laughs. One of the cleverest elements of this production is the use of an ensemble who basically dash about the stage with boundless energy doing this, that and everything. Music is played live on stage by the talented group, who also sing, multi-role, control puppets and become furniture, trees and even the sea when needed. It’s hard to single out anyone from this talented group, but Greg Barnett as principal “Barbarian” (adult, to you and me) is lots of fun and a jolly good sport as misunderstood pirate Captain Flint.

Full of unforgettable magic moments that will really make your spine tingle, this is definitely not just one for kids. Whilst they will love the action-packed antics and audience participation, director Tom Morris has captured the near impossible; he has created a production that is for anyone who can remember days when a penknife could be a sword to rival Excalibur, a feather duster might take on a life of its own and pirates really could be around any corner. If Swallows and Amazons are forever, long may their reign continue.

Swallows and Amazons is at the Sheffield Lyceum until Saturday 14 April. Tickets and more information from www.sheffieldtheatres.co.uk.

It then continues its tour of the UK until Saturday 19 May. For more details, visit www.swallowsamazons.co.uk.

Image credit: Simon Annand