Romeo and Juliet at The Belgrade: A love story full of fury

What can one do differently with arguably the most famous play ever written in the English language? A tale constantly retold through a variety of art forms, almost everyone in an audience has some expectation as to what it should look like. Director Corey Campbell and composer duo That’s a Rap don’t let this trouble them, offering a fresh take on Shakespeare’s text through the medium of rap and R&B.  

This isn’t to say that they’re the first group to offer a spoken word take on the Bard, not by a long stretch. Saturday Night Live picked up on this in a sketch a few years back. Lin Manuel-Miranda plays a substitute teacher who tells his class that ‘the greatest rapper of all time is actually-’ ‘Shakespeare,’ interrupts one of the students mockingly, having seen this approach too many times before.  

This production is still taking on a huge gamble

Don’t get it twisted though, this production is still taking on a huge gamble. I need only point you in the direction of The Globe Theatre’s adaptation Othello: The Remix to prove just how badly wrong rapped Shakespeare can go. Reassuringly, Campbell promises us in his programme notes that he will be sticking to the original text and enhancing it through ‘diverse, young voices’.     

Anticipation is already building in the venue as we walk in, with Lady Montague (Ellena Vincent) and Lord Capulet (Asheq Akhtar), framed as divisive political candidates, campaigning to us through screens in the foyer. As we enter the auditorium, we are greeted by the projection of a live poll and QR code, giving us the choice to vote between them.  

As the curtain rises, a figure with a violin steps forward and begins to play. They are soon joined by the ensemble- as well as a live band and choir visible above the stage- launching into an epic opening number that combines the words of Shakespeare with original, poignant lyrics. The warring Montagues and Capulets are then unveiled, both wearing black and white, as Romeo’s cousin Benvolio (Andre Antonio) is chosen to deliver the iconic prologue: ‘Two households, both alike in dignity…’.  

There was a great deal of well executed comedy, which may surprise some considering the play’s ultimate climax

Indeed, it soon becomes apparent that this is Benvolio’s show, as the two tribes merge into one naive collective. In his portrayal, Antonio strikes a masterful balance between the playful and the severe. Campbell is very keen for us to explore the potential for sexual innuendo in the script and it is through Benvolio that he conjures a steady stream of audience laughter. However, when this same almost juvenile gag was made by multiple characters of all ages across the production, it did start to jar a little.  

Nonetheless, there was a great deal of well executed comedy, which may surprise some considering the play’s ultimate climax. But if one were to put it in universal terms, what we see on stage is the equivalent of two strangers hitting it off in the Copper Rooms during a blackout, walking back to Rootes together, deciding to get married, and then killing themselves because they can’t live without their newfound soulmate, all in the space of a couple of days. The plot, and the title characters, are inherently ridiculous and cry out to be mocked.  Kyle Ndukuba hits all the right notes as Romeo, portraying him as the inept, pathetic wetwipe that he undoubtedly is. He crawls out from a cubby hole under the stage and into the audience for the balcony scene, unleashing the full scale of his overdramatic soliloquising.  

Character development may slightly have been lacking with Mercutio (Dillon Scott-Lewis), who is camp when he first appears and then immediately becomes a tough guy, although this could be seen as a limitation of the fast-paced script. On a similar line, Mia Khan’s Juliet, despite having an impressive singing voice, delivered her lines in a consistently hurried fashion.  

Whatever qualms one might have about costuming, there can be little debate about the fantastic set design.

Having matching Montague and Capulet costumes was a thoughtful manoeuvre to get the audience thinking about the divisiveness of British politics, and how few people in positions of privilege can ever be trusted. However, costuming was perhaps part of the reason Mercutio’s characterisation suffered from his bipolarity. If the play is here to villainise wealthy politicians, then the families of said politicians possibly shouldn’t begin by wearing suits, before changing into tracksuits and vests, masquerading as common people. One can only assume that the production team are pointing to a fetishisation of the working classes from those who could never possibly understand the struggle, though this idea is not alluded to until later in the play.   

Whatever qualms one might have about costuming, there can be little debate about the fantastic set design. It is created in such a way that we could either see an old town hall, or a Dune-like dystopia on the stage. Whilst the former is more likely, the production does point to the alarming rise of extremism in the UK, and how that could lead us into a very dark future. This was also encapsulated through the use of screens, which projected images of cracks forming behind each of the political candidates during their time on stage. Another considered detail was how the cross in Friar Lawrence’s chapel was used. At first, it was lit blue, signifying a calm as Romeo and Juliet fall in love. As the play progresses and blood is shed on both sides, it turns red, only briefly flickering to white as the innocent Juliet sings. A simplistic addition, but very effective.  

But the real showpiece comes when Romeo searches for a poison so that he may die by his lover’s side (spoilers!). In this rendition, he travels to the slums, where he is met by graffiti quoting the original text: ‘My poverty not my will consents.’ The chorus emerge as the homeless and hopeless, reminding Romeo that he is choosing to suffer when they are forced to. This scene, says Campbell, is ‘a stark reminder of who truly pays the price when those in power refuse to change.’

Unconcerned by preconceptions, but nonetheless faithful to Shakespeare, it is a rare production of this show that actually gets an audience to reflect on their place in society

The main selling point of the show is undoubtedly its music, even if that does mean that all we can hear during Romeo and Juliet’s kiss scenes are their microphones rustling. It struck this reviewer that rap may not work in other Shakespeare plays, simply because their plots are not as well known, and the audience would have to keep track of both Shakespearean language and the quickening music. It is clear that That’s a Rap had no intention of over-working their audience, composing their original songs alongside Coventry Academy students to make the performance both vibrant and accessible. What we are treated to is a musical, but without the baggage that usually comes attached to this style of theatre. There is no opportunity to clap after each song, brilliant though they are, so the tempo of the show is never once lost. The addition of songs from the perspective of gossiping workers, setting up for Juliet’s unwilling marriage to Paris, was a particular highlight, laugh-out-loud at times and genuinely moving at others.   

Whatever flaws this Romeo and Juliet may have are mainly down to its unwavering ambition. Unconcerned by preconceptions, but nonetheless faithful to Shakespeare, it is a rare production of this show that actually gets an audience to reflect on their place in society. It is a cry for unity in a world built on conflict. Young or old, black or white, we can all learn from this show, and ensure that hate never prevails.