Much Ado About Nothing at Royal Theatre Drury Lane – 18 March, 2025

The theatre buzzed as it filled, Jamie Lloyd’s dance party playlist and moving lights giving a club vibe to the historic Royal Theatre Drury Lane. Two A-list actors about to grace the stage as my favorite Shakespearean couple, Beatrice and Benedict. This Much Ado production was the instigator of the trip we were on – not riding too much on it as I always try to curb expectations – but my expectations were perhaps a bit higher than normal. Tom Hiddleston (historically, as my sister likes to remind me, the only celebrity I would wait in line to meet) and Hayley Atwell are actors I’ve admired since long before their Marvel days, though their Marvel characters had meta-theatrical moments in this production, appearing as cutouts (unnecessary in my opinion). Period dramas, Shakespeare – I’ll see them in those genres before I’ll see another Marvel movie.

Lloyd’s simple staging (literally, the stage was empty, you could see the roll up door at the back) with only a few chairs and a million pieces of pink confetti was the first clue; this was not your “typical” Shakespeare. It was practically a musical (though with no sign of “hey, nonny nonny”) with song and dance interspersed frequently throughout. Ten actors graced the stage, with Hiddleston and Atwell at the core. It was tight, playful, and daring.

Hiddleston’s Benedick delighted from the get-go. He played to the comedy of the character, but revealed a beautifully intimate, vulnerable man in his speech after the gulling. It reminded me of his St. Crispin’s speech in Henry V. Not large and over the top (a la Branaugh), but rather honest and personal. It was quite lovely. Atwell’s Beatrice was snarky, sexy, and also vulnerable. After the humor of Benedick’s gulling, in stark contrast, hers was simple and compelling. You didn’t see Margaret or Hero at all. They were hidden behind the only set piece, a giant pink inflatable heart. Beatrice was center stage, and we got to see all the reactions to her hearing about Benedick and how she cannot love. Her eyes welled with tears as she heard herself censured. It was a veer away from the comedic opportunity, but so often Benedick’s gulling outshines Beatrice’s, so why not make a different choice? The A-listers did not disappoint.

I appreciated that, even though the theatre had a traditional proscenium stage, actors still came right down to the edge and talked to the audience. Slight fan-girl moment, I’m not lying when I say Tom Hiddleston looked right at me in his pre-gulling monologue, said “one woman is fair,” and gave me a little click of the tongue and a finger gun. Yes, I will tell people that Tom Hiddleston called me fair. Fan girl aside, I was pleased to see that the needed audience interaction of Shakespeare’s plays was not entirely lost in Lloyd’s production.

Another loss grieved me, however. About halfway through the first half, I leaned over to my sister and said, “I wonder what they’ll do about Dogberry?” Too soon, as I flipped through my program at the interlude, I discovered the truth. Lloyd cut the entire Dogberry plot. Instead of the joy of the B plot, a single line from Margaret leads Borachio to confess. No Dogberry or Verges, no Watch, not even Conrad. Lloyd’s dance party Much Ado excluded those who could’ve made the party even better. To be fair, the cut worked, it still made sense. But Dogberry was sacrificed for the A-listers. It was the Beatrice and Benedick show, or rather, the Tom and Hayley show. For the fans who came just to see them, it was probably worth it. For those who came for the play too, there was a feeling of loss. While Hiddleston and Atwell certainly deserve praise for their work (truly, they did a lovely job), it came at a high price. Dogberry.

NOTE: Thoughts and reflections of a professor and practitioner; they are my own opinions and, as with art, you don’t have to like or agree with them.

~Katelyn Spurgin