Review: TWELFTH NIGHT, Birmingham Rep, April 12 2016

Devised at breakneck speed in just ten days by a company renowned for anarchic, divisive work, Filter's Twelfth Night was always destined to be a curious beast. Indeed, from the second the audience steps into the Birmingham Rep, it is clear this is going to be no ordinary Shakespeare. We appear to have arrived at the early stages of a rock gig; the stage is littered with cables, amps, and instruments, the stage manager's desk lies in plain sight of the audience, and the cast test microphones, check lines and chat casually to their spectators.

In many ways, Filter's Twelfth Night really is a concert, with sound and music comprising an essential part of the story and its humour. The cast use instruments in innovative ways, drawing a violin bow across a guitar to produce a throbbing hum, or on a cymbal to produce a sharp, shrill note. The piece opens with a warped soundscape, conducted by a frustrated Orsino (played by Harry Jardine), before he incites the audience to join in with his chant: "if music be the food of love give me excess of it."

Sound is the thread that ties together the plot, humour and characterisation of this most intricate of Shakespearean comedies. With pinpoint accuracy, a musician marks the shuffling steps of Sir Toby Belch with a sharp drum beat with hilarious results. By placing a microphone to their head, each character reveals a kind of inner song; Aguecheek is jolly and twee, whilst Malvolio tells a tale of a frustrated rock star. When poor Sir Toby place the microphone to his head, however, all we is the whistle of the wind and the toll of a distant bell!

This absurd setting and evocative soundtrack create an excellent backdrop for what is one of Shakespeare's most multi-layered comedies. Microphone amplification and sharp aural comedy add an extra dimension to the plot. As Malvolio fantasies about Olivia, we hear the rock anthem in his head, feel throbbing base notes reverberate in our gut, and, above it all, the Countess with a sultry whisper into a microphone: "yellow stockings...". The use of microphones also serves to highlight Sir Toby Belch's buffoonish drunken state, as he shouts odd words of a song and is hurriedly hushed by his fellow party animals.

Deception and disguise are central to any production of Twelfth Night, and Filter wholeheartedly embrace these themes with some excellent double-casting. Harry Jardine paints a sharp contrast between the frustrated and passionate Orsino and the energetic, foolish Aguecheek. Crystal Condie takes on a more narratorial role with a blend of Feste and Maria, both sharp-witted and sarcastic servants to Olivia. The tricky casting of twins Viola and Sebastian is deftly handled by Amy Marchant, with subtle yet effective changes of voice and posture. Filter handle the inevitable reveal of Viola/Sebastian's identities better perhaps then any other adaptation; as both Olivia and Orsino hilariously embrace the same actress as their true love, we see that the pair have more common that we have been led to believe.

The irreverent and playful nature with which Filter have tackled Twelfth Night gives it an air of spontaneity and chaos that is completely enthralling. The company literally create a party in the auditorium, as we giggle at their ridiculous attempts to conceal their drunkeness, before being dragged into the mayhem ourselves. We throw balls, drink shots, do the conga and dance in the aisles before Malvolio, with head-masterly disapproval, spoils the party. The entire audience is caught up in a giddy, carefree atmosphere, swept up by the fun and energy of the cast and the script.

It is true that this adaptation demands a lot of its audience. The house lights are kept on throughout, leaving the spectators exposed to the actors and to one another. Also, due to the frenetic pace of the piece, it is probable that those who do not know the plot of Twelfth Night may find themselves at sea. However, Filter create a space where the audience feel perfectly comfortable and entitled to sing along, to interact, to provide a coat and hat for Viola's disguise, to sit up and pay attention. It's this blurring of the boundaries between actor and audience of which Shakespeare, the maverick he was, would have fully approved and indeed encouraged in Elizabeth theatres. A five star production that leaves you breathless.

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