Jack McGee
One of the great joys of Sense and Sensibility is that Penny Ashton and her team consistently take things one step further than you’d expect. There’s a giddy delight in watching the show's stage manager (Fay Van Der Meulen) rush on stage with an industrial sized fan to ensure that Austen’s hills are appropriately windswept. The show’s many big reveals are made bigger by cartoonishly exaggerated lighting (Marcus McShane) and sound (Ashton), and whenever there’s an opportunity for a great one-off gag, the designer (Ian Harmann) has never shied away from sourcing a beautiful prop. Even the electrical tape, used to mark prop locations for transitions, has been coloured to look like little flowers on the beautifully painted meadow-green floor. Sensibility feels big. It feels maximalist. It’s a work that fills a room, and is accessible without feeling shallow. In short, it’s a real success as a Circa One show.
Ashton’s adaptation of Austen’s novel, strives to do it all. It preserves a lot of Austen’s original language and structure, while also drawing heavily from Ang Lee and Emma Thompson’s 1995 film adaptation. It leans hard into the sillier, broader, comedic beats of its source text(s) whenever they arise, while still allowing for moments of sharp wit and well crafted shade. Arguably, it doesn’t quite manage to bite off all that it chews. The show is determined to prove that Austen is still contemporary and relevant, occasionally leaning right up against the third wall to make a joke about how things haven’t changed since 1811. We also get the occasional Bridgerton reference or modern allusion, which all feel unnecessary - the text speaks for itself. Austen’s characters, humour, and societal observations, have never felt anything but cutting and contemporary and it’s hard to imagine they ever will. The show is already proving this without needing to say the quiet part out loud.
Pictured - Bronwyn Turei, Aimée Sullivan, and Amy Tarleton
The other big struggle with the adaptation is getting us into the heads of the play's two leads - the Dashwood Sisters, Elinor (Adriana Calabrese) and Marianne (Lily Tyler Moore). Calabrese and Moore are both strong performers with a brutal job - carrying a show where all the performers around them get to have a lot more fun than they do. Derived from prose, the specifics of their emotional journeys are complex and internal. They keep secrets from another, stewing in a cocktail of love, kindness, and social expectation. To Ashton’s credit, she finds plenty of creative ways to let us into the sisters' heads, including a very effective dream sequence at the opening of the second act. Yet, it’s an undeniably difficult thing to theatricalise and it’s often in these quieter scenes between the sisters that the show's momentum comes to a halt.
Things never slow down for long however as the show’s supporting cast are always a thrill to behold. Bronwyn Turei, like all the supporting performers, plays a variety of characters. Notably, this includes two very different romantic interests; the comically masculine, bluster-filled Willoughby, and the mild mannered charmer Edward Ferrars. She excels in both, always achieving a great chemistry with the respective sister she’s romancing, while milking the excess of Willoughby and the timidness of Ferrars for all their worth. Amy Tarleton exudes a warm kindness as the booming Sir John and nails the love-to-hate-her-spitefulness of the sister in law, Fanny. Heather O’Carroll is the grounding heart of the show as Mrs Dashwood and pushes it to its most outlandish comic extremes as Edward’s brother Robert. Finally, Aimée Sullivan shines as both of the show's child characters, whiny and endearing in equal parts, alongside the serious, charismatic, love interest Colonel Brandon. As you can imagine, there’s a lot of quick changes, and it’s always a joy to see someone pop back out in a different elaborate piece of period garb moments after they’ve just exited the stage.
Pictured - Heather O'Carroll
With so many characters shared between this handful of performers, it’s remarkable how well they’re all distinguished from each other. Both of the show’s core romances work which is a serious achievement at the best of times and is made all the more impressive that the supporting performers have to flit in and out of their roles.
The show's set (Harmann) consists of towering pillars of charmingly patterned wallpaper, with wheelable windows, doors, couches, and hedges. It succeeds in feeling classy and weighty enough to befit a regency world, while still being practical, fluid, and playfully modern. The show is scored (Gareth Farr) largely by classical covers of pop songs. I’m of two minds about their use. Similarly to the show’s other modern references, I often find myself feeling that it’s a little too winky. But, it is a play of big emotions and that’s what pop music excels at. As frequently as I find myself giving the score the eyebrow, I find myself moved by it. Mileage varies.
Last year's staging of The Importance of Being Earnest set a high-bar for what a full scale, Circa One, version of a classic text could look like. It’s a joy that this energy is being upheld by Sense and Sensibility, and that we have theatre of this scale, craft, and ambition available to us on the waterfront. From quick-changes and industrial fans, to a million different lighting and sound cues (Kate Anderson), I have so much admiration for Ashton and her team’s desire to do the most of everything. There’s no cut corners to be found here, just an impressive level of commitment to the bit.
Sense and Sensibility is on till the end of the month. You can book tickets here.