Review: Twelfth Night - strong characterisation and comic action anchor a hazy production

By The Press: Erin Harrington | Posted: Wednesday Aug 20, 2025

Erin Harrington reviews Twelfth Night, by William Shakespeare, directed by Alison Walls, at the Court Theatre, Saturday 9 August 2025.

The Court Theatre’s production of the evergreen romantic comedy Twelfth Night brings the audience into a dreamy ‘elsewhere’ in which mistaken identity, unrequited love and comic nonsense get all muddled up. A young noblewoman Viola (Victoria Abbott) and her twin brother Sebastian (Nic Kyle) are separated in a shipwreck. Viola washes up on the shores of Illyria. Convinced her brother has drowned, she decides to take on a male persona and find work and help.

Things get complicated quickly, but the action in this production is clear. As ‘Cesario’ Viola falls in love with her new employer, Count Orsino (James Kupa). Orsino is obsessed with Olivia (Emma Katene), a noblewoman mourning the loss of her husband and brother, and sends Cesario to woo on his behalf. Olivia falls in love with the fresh-faced young ‘man’, and it all gets very messy – especially when Sebastian, alive after all, turns up and is mistaken for Cesario. This love triangle is offset by a comic subplot in which Olivia’s drunken uncle Sir Toby Belch (Dan Bain), her witty servant Maria (Kathleen Burns) and gormless would-be suitor Sir Andrew Aguecheek (William Burns) decide to humiliate pompous steward Malvolio (Jonathon Hendry) with a cruel prank. The fool Feste (Hester Ullyart) drifts in and out, commenting ironically on the action, and performing songs and japes. It’s a popular play, and its sparkling comedy, romantic pathos and sense of festive transformation are a fine fit for a contemporary audience.

The performances themselves are excellent. The characterisations are well-drawn and the relationships are strong. The music and the wordplay in the text is very clear. Abbott, as Viola / Cesario, anchors the play, balancing vulnerability and resolve, and making much of the comedy of her slippery gender presentation. There’s a bit of comic license going on in casting Kyle as her (not really and much taller) near-identical twin brother Sebastian, but he brings a great warmth and optimism to the role, and the pair’s reunion is lovely.  Kupa and Katene, as the lovelorn nobles, are earthy and impassioned; both characters can be (and have been) played as fools or jerks, but here you love them. I really appreciate Cameron Clayton’s take on the sea captain (or, more colloquially, gay pirate) Antonio, friend to Sebastian. This is a small but pivotal role as unlike everyone else Antonio says what he means and feels, including being overt about his unrequited love for Sebastian. Clayton brings real depth and nuance to the part, and has a great affinity for the text.

The comic subplot is also very effective. Bain and Kathleen Burns have been performing together for more than 20 years, and you can see this as Maria and pot-stirrer Sir Toby bounce off one another, bringing out the best and worst in each other. William Burns’ performance of dim-witted noble Sir Andrew Aguecheek is hilarious. He seems like a moneyed party boy who’s washed up from Ibiza, and Burns clearly relishes playing with the audience. It’s an inspired interpretation. The three keep the 400-year-old jokes fresh and accessible; there’s some excellent script work on show.

Jonathon Hendry is outstanding as Olivia’s pompous steward Malvolio; I think it’s the most interesting and thoughtful take on the character I’ve seen. His delivery of Malvolio’s famous monologue, in which the character finds and reads a phoney letter he believes to be a declaration of love from Olivia, demonstrates impeccable craft. There’s so much intelligence in this characterisation, and so many great choices.

All that said, the wider production doesn’t seem to be grounded in a particular time or place, or driven by a guiding concept. Gauzy white curtains that hang from the roof and curved white couches recall a high-end spa, and shifting lights in pinks, blues and purples suggest summer skies and changes in the weather. It’s pretty, but there is little differentiation between locations, or in their staging. Are we at a resort, by the sea, a manor, or up in the clouds? At one point the comic characters crank up a portable stereo and pogo to oonsty rave music; a book by Mike Pence is an unexpected comic prop. The stunning, brightly coloured costumes have terrific silhouettes are clearly beautifully constructed – another success for the Court’s production team – but I am not sure of the throughline.

I also admit confusion at how the fool Feste is framed. She’s less a truth-telling source of bittersweet comedy than a glam rock-infused musical drifter, like Ziggy Stardust (by way of Rocky Horror) beamed down from space to offer commentary on the earthlings. In this production, the relationship of this character to the wider household (or even the play) is uncertain. Ullyart is a dynamic and compelling performer, and she stalks around the stage singing her own compositions to the script’s lyrics – a nice touch, production-wise. The songs are great, some like synth-y dreamscapes straight from David Lynch’s roadhouse, but at an artistic level I can’t figure out how it’s all supposed to connect. Overall, while I see that the intention is to foreground the characters’ relationships, I find the curious combination of neutrality and eclecticism hard to parse. I’m certainly not advocating for literalism, but the relationship between production choices, artistic point of view, and the work’s broader themes could be far more apparent.  

Twelfth Night ultimately explores the relationship between appearance and reality, desire and self-delusion, and love and suffering. The action resolves as various deceptions are unmasked, and love is (mostly) borne out. We should end with a sense of clarity and revelation (and revels). The actors’ strong performances, their commitment to each other and the characters’ relationships, grounds this production in clear emotional truth. Some of it is very funny. It also helps that the layout of the new theatre is ideal for Shakespeare, keeping the actors close to the audience as confidants. The opening night crowd responds very favourably to this production; some things might be uncertain, but Shakespeare’s wit and wisdom has lasted for good reason.

Twelfth Night runs until Saturday 6 September 2025.