Much Ado About Nothing review

Since its formation in 2015, touring theatre company Ramps on the Moon has tackled Dickens, Gogol and even the Who. Now, in its first production for three years, the company, with a majority D/deaf disabled cast and non-disabled performers, presents its bright, approachable take on Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing.

Directed by Robert Hastie, this is Shakespeare with a difference. The characters, dressed in sharp, colourful suits, break the fourth wall to introduce themselves, and deliver audio descriptions of their costumes for blind/partially sighted people in the audience. Designer Peter McKintosh’s sumptuous imagining of Messina has caption boards integrated into it, and there is always at least one cast member on stage signing in British Sign Language.

One of Shakespeare’s more accessible plays, Much Ado suits Ramps on the Moon’s approach brilliantly. Some characters are gender-flipped (Don John is Donna Joanna here, while Dogberry and Verges are transformed into an aunt-and-nephew wedding-planning team), and the masquerade ball becomes a country music hoedown, complete with line dancing. Even the simple act of speaking Shakespeare’s lines in a regional accent adds to the inclusivity.

The large cast acquits itself well. There’s real comic chemistry between Daneka Etchells and Guy Rhys as the bickering Beatrice and Benedick, while Claire Wetherall gives an immensely powerful performance as Hero, performing entirely in BSL. Dan Parr makes a charismatic Don Pedro, and blind actor Ben Wilson is terrific as drunkard Borachio. There’s also plenty of comic relief from Caroline Parker’s Dogberry. 

Hastie’s direction is as sleek and fleet-footed as ever. He handles the comedy deftly in the first half of the show, but the more dramatic second half works equally well. One scene between Beatrice and Benedick is so intensely moving that there are stifled sobs among the audience. Despite the three-hour running time, Hastie also keeps things moving at an impressive pace.

Purists may object to the odd diversion from the text – receiving a pre-wedding massage, Don Pedro borrows from Hamlet to mutter: “Ay, there’s the rub”, producing one of the biggest laughs of the night. But this is Shakespeare as it should be: inclusive, accessible and diverse. Ramps on the Moon’s twist is a winning one – this really is as merry as the day is long.