“I am a man, as other men are.”
If it was the Bard himself who told us that “all the world’s a stage,” then UNSW’s Studio One is certainly no exception, for what could suit A Midsummer Night’s Dream better than the camp of drag? A glittery directorial debut from Olivia Castree-Croad and presented by NUTS (NSW University Theatre Society), A Midsummer Night’s Dream: IN DRAG!, had its opening night audience in stitches, albeit slightly aroused. Few words preluded the play, with Castree-Croad and Assistant Director Zoe Le Marinel saying “drag is irreplaceable, drag is emotional, drag is us.” Perhaps it was those words alone that warmed the audience to the collective experience of the Shakesperian comedy and the accessible artistry of drag.
The faculties of Shakespeare and drag are perhaps regarded as intimidating at first: the language, the personae, the ‘other-worldliness’ too far expelled from our own. The mere existence of those God-forsaken No Fear Shakespeare texts for high-schoolers aim to translate the Bard’s work into “modern language,” as if what they were speaking in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was not English. And yet, here is a piece of theatre that proves the opposite: the embodiment, the camp physicality and vocal projection of drag works overtime to “translate” the play back into what it truly is — a comedy romp about love, sex, fairies, drugging, and “making an ass out of oneself.”
For a play about a so-called “dream”, the costuming and set design did not fail to evoke it. Colour, light and texture: here was a set that felt like a dream, thanks to lead designer Scarlett Huxley and set designer Hanako Manning. The cobweb of a very elegant spider that we, the audience, were gladly lured into: the fly drawn to the beguiling light. Pearls, lace, chiffon and vines strung from the ceiling — a curtain that would eventually fall during Puck’s games with the Athenians creating a shadow-puppet effect reminiscent of children’s stories. The fluidity of gender (especially Shakespeare’s inherent distinctions between man, woman and boy) perhaps elevated by the lighting — pinks, greens and blues like a 1980s dive bar. Speaking of such, the entire plays reverberated a king of 1980s type of glamour Puck dressed as a punk-fairy-glitter-bomb-Cyndi-Lauper with shoulder pads and leopard-print kitten heels, Titania’s lullaby a fairy-sung techno-synth tune or Bottom’s skin-tight leather pants. The costume design and curation is to be commended, and held my keen eye for the entirety of the play; the amalgamation of texture made for rich characteristics. Scarves, glitter, ruffles, corsets, satins, and the jingle of Hermia’s charm bracelet. Demetrius’s black lace eyebrows and moustache, or the Athenian’s white-painted faces like venetian masks, Titania’s sequin green shorts under her dusty-rose dress — the stem of her flower. Even the fairies walked barefoot, on tippy-toes, treading oh-so-lightly as to embody the creatures of the woods. These decisions made the play feel new, authentic, original: down to the fact that the potion took the form of a lipstick for Puck to apply and kiss the poor Athenians with.
Besides the obvious and startling beauty within the audio-visual aspects of the production, the play also did not fail to define originality within the Shakespearian ‘comedy’. In fact, the Bard’s Elizabethan comedy translated seamlessly into a 21st century queer lens that showered its audience with non-stop innuendo and gracious comedic timing. I lost count of the amount of times the audience rattled with plentiful laughter to the point where the actors had to pause to not yell over us. The audience, perhaps without realising it at first, resonated with the “painted may-pole,” the “come[ing] by night,” and the “apri-cocks.” Even the post-coital love affair between Titania and Bottom was reminiscent of the colloquial, universal and regretful Birdcage hookup we all know a little too well. The fact of the matter: this group of young creatives blended our queer culture, artistry of drag and Shakesperian nuance in a way that was both highly rewarding and incredibly unique. For what is theatre but the ephemera of beauty?
In conversation with the Castree-Croad after the show, I asked her thoughts on the likes between the artistry of drag and the scale of the Shakespearian comedy. She said “It’s about being big enough for the words. Drag [and Shakespeare] demand big. Don’t you want to be big?”
A Midsummer Night’s Dream: IN DRAG played from 8 to 12 April 2025 at Studio One UNSW.
Follow @nuts_unsw for updates on future shows and castings.
