Review of ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ (The Globe, 2026): “Present-day revision shows darker shades, but it’s still as merry as the day is long”

There is an obsession with modern reinterpretations of classics that speak to no one but the director’s ego — and perhaps the TikTokers who use them as subjects for mockery. This season’s production of arguably Shakespeare’s most engaging romantic comedy is no exception, but only partially. It might bring a contemporary style to the work- both visually and idiomatically at some moments -but the take brims with artistic integrity. And it delivers accordingly.

Much Ado About Nothing has returned to the Globe two years after its last incarnation. The differences are numerous. And they go beyond the play’s aesthetic angle. Although the humour generally takes over- sometimes with unnecessary drollery -Chelsea Walker’s direction takes on a more sombre tone during Act Two, as the plot to avenge Hero’s dignity unfolds. It’s a fine, little touch that contributes significantly to the piece’s emotional journey. And the result is fairly good.

The characters’ humanity solidifies to a greater extent. It becomes more proximate, more relatable, and consequently, more engaging. The multiple layers in which the roles are built earn more prominence. And at the same time, a sense of surprise imbues the material, mirroring the same spirit of change and unpredictability that real life is driven and defined by.

The humour resurfaces seamlessly during the finale. Walker’s greatest achievement lies in her ability to set the right mood with satisfactory precision. If a scene is infused with gravitas, there is no unwelcome laughter, nor is there a frustrating attempt to make people laugh (something The Globe can’t take much credit for recently). But on the opposite side, when a joke is made, it lands thunderously.

The show could have done without some of its slapstick. Physical comedy can do wonders in a Shakespearean play when introduced naturally. That’s actually the case for the most part, but some segments are overdosed with gags that come across as shoehorned at best and annoying at worst. As much as it might have felt good for the actress on an excruciatingly hot evening, seeing Beatrice “accidentally” drenched underneath a watered fern feels as organic as a can of Pringles. And it isn’t particularly funny either. Neither is the Night Watch’s ongoing mishearing of Borachio’s name with “Gazpacho”.

That’s as much negative criticism as this production should receive. In all honesty, every remaining element works exceptionally well. A few modern additions, some of which dumb the content down to some degree, might not be everyone’s cup of tea. Yet, none of them degrades the Bard’s words in an outrageous manner. And overall, they are enjoyable.

Sami Fendall’s scenery conceives Leonato’s estate as a marbled Italian palazzo, the kind that could easily be inhabited by the cast of Dynasty or even Gianni Versace — Leonato’s first appearance, in a set of pyjamas embroidered with the designer’s signature pattern- shirt fully open and sunglasses on -only cements that impression. And the fact that most of the characters dress à la Spagnolo erases all doubts.

Both costumes and sets convey a certain level of symbolism. Sometimes, it’s even powerful. The masked ball doesn’t teem with subtlety when presenting the personages’ essence- Don John wears a snake mask, while Hero is disguised as a lamb and Don Pedro as a wolf -but the intention is commendable. Some other excerpts are far more striking, especially the funeral sequence, whose scenographic execution is a tad spectacular but also exceedingly intimate.

The whole company does justice to the piece with absolute command. Both roles and text are properly internalised. And although some snippets may come off slightly overdone, their renditions swarm with casualness and rapport. Among them, Adam Long plays a confident, puckish, and ultimately captivating Don Pedro, while Pippa Nixon earns the highest praise due to her high-octane and emotionally complex portrayal of Beatrice.

With a simple yet precise and effective underscore by Angus MacRae, every component in the Globe’s latest remake of Much Ado About Nothing comes together in a symphony of amusement, pathos, and theatrical grandeur. Removing some over-the-top bits is all this version needs for me to speak love about it. But if it doesn’t, I shan’t speak low of it.

All pictures credit to Marc Brenner.

Much Ado About Nothing plays at London’s Shakespeare’s Globe until 24 October. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara