A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

Bottom is the beating heart of this Dream.

There is something wonderfully refreshing about this production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre. It is an incredibly inclusive production, but what impressed me most was that the inclusivity never felt like a statement in itself. Instead, it simply became part of the storytelling, allowing every performer to shine on their own merits.

The standout performance undoubtedly comes from Nadeem Islam as Bottom. I genuinely cannot remember seeing a portrayal of Bottom quite like this before. Islam delivers everything you could hope for from Shakespeare’s lovable fool: charm, confidence and impeccable comic timing, while adding playful Bollywood-inspired flourishes, complete with exaggerated poses and cheeky grins directed at the audience. Every entrance seemed to raise another laugh before he’d even spoken.

There are so many memorable moments. Whether striking dramatic poses, proudly trotting around as the donkey, or slipping in the occasional slightly naughty joke that hinted there was rather more to his donkey than simply the head, Islam constantly found new ways to entertain.

Perhaps the cleverest touch, however, involved his use of Sign Language. Throughout much of the performance, Islam signs alongside his spoken dialogue, but once Bottom acquires the donkey’s head he adapts his signing so that the donkey’s head itself effectively becomes part of the language. It is an ingenious piece of physical theatre that demonstrates genuine creativity rather than simply treating accessibility as an obligation. I only know a limited amount of sign language myself, but even I appreciated how inventive and thoughtful this choice was.

The only slight drawback is that Bottom becomes so entertaining that some of the surrounding characters inevitably struggle to compete. Rather than eagerly anticipating the next scene regardless of who appeared, the audience increasingly seemed to be waiting for Bottom’s return.

The set design, by Naomi Dawson, unfortunately didn’t quite work for me. While I appreciate that productions aren’t designed solely for Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre, this felt like a missed opportunity. We are literally sitting outdoors beneath the trees, watching one of Shakespeare’s most famous woodland adventures, yet very little use is made of the natural setting surrounding us.

Instead, the production places us backstage inside what resembles an old-fashioned wooden sound stage. Oversized steps dominate the stage, while the words “this green plot” are stencilled high above, almost as though reminding us that we’re supposed to be in a forest. At the top of the staircase, theatre curtains eventually part to reveal the fairy band, housed inside a box-like performance space decorated with painted woodland scenery. It is also here that Oberon and Titania openly change costumes and wigs, further reinforcing the theatrical backstage concept.

At times, the steps worked extremely well, particularly during scenes involving the Mechanicals where different levels added energy and perspective. They also proved effective whenever status or height became part of the storytelling. However, at other points they seemed to make movement unnecessarily awkward, with actors working hard simply to navigate the staging without much dramatic reward.

Even accepting the sound stage concept, I struggled to fully grasp the artistic vision. There were definite nods towards the 1970s, but beyond that the overall aesthetic felt rather eclectic. The costumes appeared deliberately mismatched, although not always in a way that revealed a clear unifying idea.

The text itself was occasionally harder to follow than I would have liked. Some of the rhythm and intonation felt slightly uneven, with certain speeches sounding more like readings than natural conversations. Fortunately, this was balanced by frequent modern ad-libs and knowing asides, many of which landed extremely well with the audience and added to the wonderfully chaotic atmosphere of the evening.

One of the production’s strongest creative decisions is making the fairies into a live band. Under the musical direction of Rachel Barnes, the live music creates an atmosphere that recorded accompaniment simply couldn’t achieve. Several verses become songs, giving the magical world a unique identity and adding real momentum throughout. There were a few moments during Oberon’s scheming where the ever-present fairy musicians required a little suspension of disbelief, but it is a small price to pay for such an effective musical element.

A particularly memorable unscripted moment belonged to Mary Malone as Helena. During one entrance she ran straight into one of the surrounding trees before immediately slipping on the grass moments later. Whether entirely accidental or brilliantly recovered, Malone styled it out so naturally that the audience felt completely comfortable laughing even harder, and she earned a spontaneous round of applause simply for carrying on.

While Georgia Bruce’s mischievous Puck had plenty of energy, it was difficult not to feel slightly overshadowed by Islam’s show-stopping Bottom. Likewise, after the interval the ad-libs came thick and fast, to the point where it became genuinely difficult to tell which had been rehearsed and which were inspired by the moment. That unpredictability gave the performance an infectious spontaneity.

This may not be my favourite visual interpretation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and I never entirely connected with the production’s conceptual setting. However, thanks to a joyous central performance from Nadeem Islam, inventive use of sign language, infectious live music and a willingness to embrace playful chaos, it becomes an evening that is consistently entertaining and frequently laugh-out-loud funny.

***

Photo Credit: Marc Brenner