Sherlock Holmes

Beautiful staging in a production struggling to solve its own mystery

Sherlock Holmes at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre is a loose adaptation of The Sign of the Four by Joel Horwood. While I have not read the original source material, it is fairly easy to spot what feels newly added or expanded for this production, and unfortunately much of it does not really come together.

The theatre itself, however, remains beautiful. I attended after what had been a rainy day and arrived wrapped up as though I were going to Bonfire Night in November. Once the evening settled in, though, it was surprisingly comfortable, and the atmosphere of Regent’s Park after dark still carries a certain magic that immediately adds something special before the production even begins.

The set design by Grace Smart is visually striking. There is a clear proscenium arch built into the stage, complete with a fractured frame surrounding it. This instantly suggests the possibility of some kind of meta-drama or play-within-a-play concept. Oddly, though, this never really materialises. Above the arch sits a raw metallic gantry structure. Tower Bridge is referenced repeatedly throughout the production and it is clear the intention was to evoke ideas of Victorian industry and construction.

All of this sits upon a double revolve, allowing both the central playing space and outer ring to rotate independently. In theory this should have helped create fluid scene changes, but in practice it was mostly used for extended running or walking sequences that quickly became repetitive rather than dynamic.

A hot air balloon also features prominently. Like the gantry, it is built from exposed metal tubing and lifted by crane. Visually, it feels like a missed opportunity. Had the balloon been covered in cloth and internally illuminated, especially given it appears once darkness had fallen, it could have looked genuinely spectacular. Instead, it felt oddly unfinished. Even the way it exited, slowly backing away rather than disappearing into lights off state weakened what should have been a memorable theatrical image.

Ryan Day’s lighting and Enric Ortuño’s sound design occasionally help create atmosphere, particularly during transitions and the larger action moments, though neither fully resolves the production’s tonal confusion. Jherek Bischoff’s score similarly leans heavily into the chaotic energy of the production, though at times it contributes further to the sense of sensory overload rather than tension.

From this point onwards the production becomes increasingly confusing, and that confusion seems to come equally from both Horwood’s adaptation and Sean Holmes’ direction. As mentioned earlier, the set strongly hints towards some sort of self-aware theatrical framing device that never arrives, making parts of the production feel like remnants of an abandoned concept.

Most of the performers multi-role, but this is largely done through costume changes alone. Little distinction is added physically or vocally between characters. In a more exaggerated meta farce this could actually have been hilarious, but here it instead gives the unfortunate impression that the actors are simply under-directed. There is a lengthy circus-inspired chase and fight sequence after the interval intended to descend into chaos, but it never lands. Similar in spirit to the old pantomime routine of “If I Were Not Upon the Stage”, this scene had the potential to become a real comic highlight if the tone of the production supported it. Instead, despite attempts to encourage audience participation through clapping, the sequence dragged on too long and mostly left the audience bewildered rather than entertained.

Charlotte Broom’s movement direction becomes most obvious during these ensemble-heavy moments, particularly in the chase scenes, though the choreography never quite hits comedically. There is also a major dramatic moment before the interval with the curtains closing making a strong image, only for one actor to remain standing atop the gantry slowly slinking away afterwards, completely undermining the impact of the scene.

The costume design by Lisa Aitken adds another layer of confusion. Reading the programme suggests influences ranging from the 1880s all the way through to the 1970s. Sherlock himself wears baby blue satin trousers which, because of their cut and fabric, unfortunately looked less stylish and more as though they desperately needed ironing.

Early in the play we are told animals have escaped from the zoo. Throughout the production ensemble members wearing animal heads then repeatedly appear cycling or running through scenes. Alongside lions, giraffes, lemurs and rhinos, there is also a panda, once again raising questions about the production’s timeline and visual logic. More frustratingly, the idea never becomes as funny as the production seems to think it is.

There was also the return of a very particular style of ensemble movement popular in the 2010s actors pulsating rhythmically to edgy music. I have recently seen this reappear in The Hunger Games stage production and now here. Personally, it is a theatrical trend I always felt belonged more to amateur dramatics than large-scale professional work, and I would happily never see it resurrected again. Unfortunately, it effectively bookends the entire production.

As for the mystery itself, there barely is one. I would not even say the story is predictable so much as expected. There are no meaningful red herrings. Everything mentioned eventually becomes important later in the most direct way possible. A long discussion about the construction of Tower Bridge naturally leads to characters later ending up there. A repeatedly referenced Bible prop unsurprisingly becomes central later on. The structure of the storytelling becomes less deduction and more waiting for the obvious payoff.

There was, admittedly, one final reveal I did not predict and will avoid spoiling. However, it arrives so suddenly and with so little connection to the rest of the story that it only adds to the growing sense of bewilderment.

There is also a drug addiction sequence involving Holmes which adds very little dramatically and only muddies the relationship between Holmes and Watson further, particularly when Watson injects Holmes with something we have already been told Holmes had supposedly given up.

I was left unsure whether the production intended to present itself as an anti-Empire critique, because if so the messaging becomes so muddled amongst the competing ideas and tonal shifts that any political commentary is almost entirely lost.

One large dramatic moment takes place on the theatre’s actual overhead gantry behind the audience. In theory this sounds exciting. In practice, if you are wearing a hood because of the cold or rain, turning around enough to see it is awkward, and if you are seated high up you are effectively underneath the action and can barely see anything at all.

Perhaps the strangest part of the evening is that Holmes himself barely solves the case. The plot mostly unfolds around him as he chases various people across the stage until, ultimately, everyone gets away. By the end, yet another criminal is introduced into the story in what feels like a desperate attempt at a final shocking reveal.

Honestly, the greatest mystery of the evening may be why the programme contains a multi-page interview with Sherlock Holmes novelist Bonnie MacBird rather than spending that space discussing Horwood’s adaptation itself. More frustratingly, the production feels trapped between two entirely different styles. It either needed to fully commit to the exaggerated farcical Victorian vaudeville tone it occasionally hints at, or trust the material enough to play it straight. Instead, it sits awkwardly between the two approaches, never allowing either to work properly. The result is a muddled production that, by the second half, had a notably thinner audience around me, with several emptied seats.