If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.
On a round mirrored floor stands a baby grand piano and it remains there, permanently and slowly revolving. Feste (Stefan Bednarczyk) is the pianist who plays not only the songs but also the musical accompaniment throughout the production.
Twelfth Night already has more songs than any other play by Shakespeare and director Tom Littler adds even more. Music is integral to his intimate and charming production which sets the action in England in the 1940’s, a post-World War II era.
Twelfth Night is a time for revelry. But though there are lots of laughs, the comedy is essentially melancholic and full of heartbreak. Love is unrequited. Youth’s a stuff will not endure.
Some are born great. Some achieve greatness. And some have greatness thrust upon them. Oliver Ford Davies’s Malvolio is a very old and stuffy steward, totally humourless, but he does not deserve the cruel and humiliating prank played on him when he is persuaded that Olivia, the lady of the house he runs, actually loves him.
Littler ingeniously solves the problem of having no box-tree for the pranksters to hide behind when Malvolio is reading a love-letter which he thinks comes from Olivia. The pranksters hide among the audience and an amusing addition is to hear them prompt Malvolio’s reading.
Dorothea Myer-Bennet is an absurdly self-indulgent Olivia, rushing Sebastian, a man she has only just met, into marriage and relishing the idea of a wonderful threesome.
Clive Wood is a jovial Sir Toby Belch, a be-medalled drunkard. Jane Asher plays Maria as a respectable middle-aged housekeeper. Robert Mountford’s Sir Andrew Aguecheek is an amusing gullible silly ass. The ad-libs are rooted in the text and work well.
To learn more about Robert Tanitch and his reviews, click here to go to his website. 
