The contemporary setting of Jonathan Humphreys’ production is unspecific, but looks like a place to avoid. Hannah Clark’s design gives us corrugated iron, particle board and a litter problem (the opening brawl, between a feral pack wading through lager cans and pizza boxes, is particularly seamy). What it lacks is a touch of class.
Michael Hodgson’s Capulet is a red-eyed, unshaven geezer who has somehow risen to become king of his side of the estate; for his wife, Natalie Thomas, high style is big hair, an olive-green catsuit and a ghastly gold belt.
From his first entrance, Freddie Fox’s aristocratic Romeo is clearly too good for this world. He even seems to carry a hint of his own demise: “Methinks I see thee now as one dead in the bottom of a tomb,” Juliet laments. “Either my eyesight fails, or thou lookest pale.” Fox looketh pale indeed: his translucent skin is pulled so taut that his face seems fixed in a mask of disdain at the poverty of his surroundings.
Fox may be a theatrical blue-blood (the son of Edward Fox and Joanna David), but his talent is indisputable and he shows almost contemptuous ease for Shakespearean verse. The only problem is understanding why this prodigious sophisticate should be so smitten with a plain-speaking girl such as Morfydd Clark’s Juliet. There’s nothing wrong with Clark’s sweet, unaffected performance, but they’re one of those couples that it’s impossible to imagine growing old together. What would they talk about?
It’s not uncommon to wish that the comedic portion of this play could be longer and the tragic part shorter. But there is no harsher judge than a midweek audience fulfilling syllabus obligations, and the concentration shown by school parties indicates that Humphreys’ grungy production smells of teen spirit.
• At Crucible, Sheffield, until 17 October. Box office: 0114 249 6000.
