Much Ado About Nothing – Leeds Playhouse

Writer: William Shakespeare

Director: Robert Hastie

Much Ado About Nothing may be the perfect analogy for the Ramps on the Moon initiative, pioneered with several regional theatres since 2016. This year, in collaboration with Sheffield Theatres, the company that aims to normalise the presence of deaf, disabled and neurodiverse people both on and off stage tackle Shakespeare’s comedy of the battling sexes. The ease integrating accessibility into their productions is a beacon of how this challenge can seemingly be… much ado about nothing.

Before a line of the bard is spoken, we are greeted by the cast introducing themselves, their appearance, what they are wearing, who will be interpreting and translating for who and a physical description of the space. The house lights remained undimmed for the duration and the audience are invited to behave as they wish (within reason) in order to enjoy the production. We are welcome. Peter McKintosh’s beautiful set, akin to a Scandinavian forest spa retreat, is bathed in Ian Scott’s warm lighting design throughout and dappled with John Biddle’s soothing and calming score. The play slips from foreword into verse with the return of the men from war who are welcomed into Leonato’s (Gerard McDermott) deluxe retreat.

Claudio (Taku Matero) is in love with Hero (Claire Wetherall and voiced by the excellent Laura Goulden also playing Margaret) and Hero is in love with Claudio. That much is clear. They plan to wed within the week. Both Benedick (Guy Rhys) and Beatrice (Daneka Etchells), meanwhile, insist they will never be burdened by the silly folly of love. Whilst match-making plots are set in motion to bring this pair together another much darker plot is launched by Don Pedro’s (Dan Parr) sister Donna Joanna (Fatima Niemogha) to destroy not just the nuptials between Claudio and Hero but their lives too.

Under Robert Hastie’s direction there is an assured confidence exuding from this production. The actors are relaxed and there is a lightness of touch to the whole affair. The accessible elements of the show are not apologised for or given reverence – nor should they be. Indeed, the British Sign Language, Sign Supported English, audio description and captioning add fresh layers to the text. Wholly inclusive it certainly is; distracting it certainly isn’t.

There is a distinct subtlety to both the performances of Rhys and Etchells’ Benedick and Beatrice. Their non-plussed attitudes to one another are matched by their nuanced reactions when sliding into the mushiness of love. Etchells particularly only allows us small glimpses into the amour that pierces their armour but when they come they are affecting. Rhys is allowed to play comically – sometimes with ‘extra-curricular’ ad libs: “bit top shelf!” he quips reading Beatrice’s love letter. Not all the comedy is found by Rhys in the text that is occasionally rushed, especially Benedick’s well-known rebuttal of finding a wife, although there is much to like in the ‘eavesdropping’ scene whilst the conspirators are receiving a spa massage. There is a power to Claire Wetherall’s silent interpreted Hero. A woman lacking a voice, especially when treated as a possession by her father and wished to death because of her apparent infidelity, is a wonderful example of a found layer this Ramps on the Moon production can bring to a classic text.

This is a fresh and extremely lively interpretation. Sometimes lacking in Italian passion, it is another success in bringing to the mainstream the normalisation of seeing difference in high quality professional theatre.

Runs until Saturday 1st October 2022.