Much Ado About Nothing

The critical question of the year has been: how would Mark Rylance fare directing Vanessa Redgrave and James Earl Jones as Beatrice and Benedick in his new production of Much Ado About Nothing?

The answer is, sadly, not that well.

Plonked on to Ultz’s ghastly set – all teak and bombast and evoking nothing of the stated location of a country house and GI billet in 1944 England – the cast seemed ill at ease, as though still seeking direction several days after press night. The prompter was clearly visible in the stage-left box seat biting her nails and muttering into her headset after every flubbed line.

There was nowhere to hide either, as Rylance, so used to al-fresco projects at the Globe, had signed off on a one-note lighting design consisting of a brilliant white wash that lit up everything, including the first half of the audience.

Performances were of varying quality, from Danny Lee Wynter’s unconvincing Don John (too dull to be truly nasty), through the nuanced and sympathetic portrayals of Beth Cooke’s Hero and Lloyd Everitt’s Claudio, to the rumbling hauteur of Michael Elwyn as Leonato. But the two stars, though clearly striving for elegance and colour at all times, were just too out of place to make the impact necessary.

Vanessa Redgrave is still a feisty, striking and attractive woman at 76 and she is amusing when ramping up Beatrice’s stubbornness, but her sorties into playing the coquette seem almost desperate when set against her younger ‘cousins’.

James Earl Jones, who’s in his 80s, still has the voice that made his fortune and knows how to use it, but when he mixes, shapeless and shuffling in ill-fitting battledress, supposedly as one of the boys with his fellow GIs, he has moved from ‘Luke, I am your father’ to ‘Claudio, I could be your grandfather’.

I was determined to try to look past the obvious age issue by reasoning that love can come at any time in one’s life, but had to conclude that it was deeply unkind of Rylance to place these venerable icons into a group where everyone else was cast to the usual age, and expect them to fit seamlessly.

The entire enterprise is saved by Peter Wight’s pitch-perfect Dogberry, scintillating with impeccable timing and great heart, backed up by Tim Barlow’s quirky, Salvation Army-styled Verges and two boy scouts playing The Watch.

But Much Ado should not have to rely on Dogberry to lighten the mood. It should be a Shakespearean soufflé – puffed up, light and delicious. Sadly, Mark Rylance’s collapsed before it reached the table.

Until 30 November at The Old Vic, The Cut, London SE1: 0844-871 7628, www.oldvictheatre.com