This month Emma Rice was announced as the Globe’s new artistic director. She is not a Shakespearean, and has been quoted as saying she is “not a fan of the word”. I hope that’s not true. Whatever its dectractors say, the Globe can make crowds concentrate on a phrase, and turn their mood on a doubloon. Yet Rice is also a natural choice. Her experience in outdoor, gymnastically inventive, audience-cajoling work will wire her directly into a theatre in which every show changes with scudding clouds and the responses of spectators.
Sometimes words seem to conjure the weather. In Blanche McIntyre’s production of As You Like It rain fell at a mention of the Flood; the audience giggled, and James Garnon’s Jacques cocked an eyebrow. Robust and arrogant, Garnon is a strong touch. He spits out the Seven Ages of Man as if they were Seven Types of Scepticism. This is not the most beguiling rendition of this most beguiling of Shakespeare’s plays, but it has the absolute intelligence that makes McIntyre such an important young director. On a bare stage, words are everything. There is never an unintelligible phrase, even when following the circumlocutions is like trying to wind spaghetti on a fork. And there is Michelle Terry as Rosalind. Terry is one of our most glorious actresses: always changing, always a light. She does not yet do everything she can with the part – I want more of her lyricism – yet she buoyantly makes it her own. She reels with desire when Orlando takes off his shirt; she hits the beat of the verse meticulously yet gestures with 21st-century insouciance. Her mellow voice has gained a slight crackle. In years to come those who saw her on stage, and saw McIntyre direct, will count themselves lucky. St Crispin’s Day for girls.
