Hurtwood Players: Midsummer Madness in the Woods

Something rather wonderful happens towards the end of the long, demanding academic year at Hurtwood, and it’s something collective, life-affirming and spirit-lifting. It’s in our leafy, lovely, leisurely Amphitheatre, and as such looks back to the old concepts of theatre as playfulness, ‘play’ as fun, as something that allows us to explore the serious ‘real world' of being grown up, ideally without the blood, sweat and tears of reality. Perfect.

Welcome to Stephen and Clare’s annual treat of Shakespeare in the woods: bunting, sunshine, dappled shade and joyous mayhem. This year it was the turn of A Midsummer Night's Dream to get the Hurtwood treatment, and oh what larks were had! Glorying in the setting of a Butlin’s holiday camp, with shades of Elvis Presley and Summer Holiday thrown in, this was a literal love chase round the block and back again, with more knockabout, old gags and foolish lovers than you can shake a stick at. Drawing together a wonderful bunch of students and talents, connected largely by the fact that they were NOT involved in other drama projects, we were treated to a full-fat feast of unalloyed silliness. Shakespeare uses the pivot of midsummer magic to focus on the absolute necessity of laughter, and specifically the ability to laugh at ourselves. The company let rip, and I reckon the Bard himself would have loved it. ‘Lord what fools these mortals be.’ Here was space to celebrate, integrate and escape the real mad men of the world.

So much energy; so much space. The action literally exploded in all directions, over roof tops, walls and tumbling down steps, blurring roles, scripts, actors and audience. Every member of the cast was having individual fun and providing wonderful collective entertainment. One performance stood out though: Polina’s galvanising role as mistress of mischief and mayhem, Puck, was a joy. All grimaces and gestures, it was a true mime masterclass in wordless comic anarchy. And we loved it all.

What a way to end the year! Thank you for the chance to lose ourselves, albeit briefly in the joy of innuendo and ignorance, to laugh at how daft we all are, and to do it collectively. Bravo for theatre that proves that art is, as it has always been, the highest form of hope. Hurrah for laughter and silliness and summer holidays.