Love’s Labour’s Lost at Shakespeare’s Globe – review

As London’s temperature rises again, there is some distinctly Spanish heat coming from the Southbank. Indiana Lown-Collins’s Love’s Labour’s Lost brings the spirit of Andalusia to the Wooden O, fusing flamenco with one of Shakespeare’s lesser-known comedies. What could have been a gimmick proves irresistible, with an abundance of creativity, energy, and heart.

The king of Navarre and his lords vow to abstain from women and concentrate on study for three years. Cue the arrival of a Princess and her ladies on a diplomatic mission – chaos ensues as the men inevitably fall in love and the vow is broken.

Loves Labour’s Lost is not easy to pull off. One of Shakespeare’s earliest comedies, it contains some of his densest language, as well as misdirected letters, pranks, a play within a play, and a rather muted, melancholic ending. Lown-Collins, making her directorial debut at the Globe, navigates this through a series of adaptations – most of which succeed brilliantly.

The Princess of France becomes one of Spain, and the Bard’s Latin wordplay jokes are rewritten as Anglo-Spanish puns. Several scenes are scattered with fiery flamenco routines and soulful singing, used to express intense passions when words are not enough. One gorgeous instance is the dance interpretation of a visceral bullfight (replacing a hunting scene) where the Princess resists, then submits to the kill, as the blood-soaked bull succumbs.

Ned Costello is very funny as the rather wet and petulant King Ferdinand. His three lords throw themselves into very physical comedy, perhaps leaning into the bawdiness of some jokes a little too much. Philip Arditti is a particularly charismatic Berowne, and Norah Lopez Holden is outstanding as the Princess, showing wit and capability, deftly moving between dignity and teasing.

Bea Segura’s spirited Rosaline is brightly confident, and Andro Crespo has great fun as the boastful Armado, relishing his word salads. Katy Stephens brings a different take to pedantic schoolmaster Holofernes, becoming the worst caricature of a Brit abroad, complete with mangled Spanish phrases and a raffia bag which states “I Loveth Navarre”.

With only two professional flamenco dancers in the company (Pablo Egea and Anita La Maltesa), the whole cast has been put through a dance boot camp. And it shows: the movement reflecting the ardent expressiveness and romantic tensions. Lown-Collins effectively combines the rhythms of the music and language together, as percussive handclaps often punctuate the repartee.

Katie Lias’s colourful design wraps the Globe’s columns with a look of peeling paint, intricately designed balcony newel posts, and yellow and blue-tiled back panels. Her costumes put the lords in white with gold accents; the ladies in a riot of colour and texture.

Flamenco guitarists Michael McMahon and Adrián Solá compose the vibrant music and join the other musicians on stage, alongside singer Carlos Lobo Cordón. Most music is original, but we are also treated to strains of modern pop melodies such as Luis Fonsi’s “Despacito”, as the lords fall in love with the ladies one by one.

This is a hugely promising Globe debut from Lown-Collins, brimming with imagination and really evoking the soul of flamenco through Shakespeare. Viva España indeed.