The Merry Wives of Windsor at Shakespeare’s Globe – review

Four hundred-year-old rumour has it that William Shakespeare was asked by Queen Elizabeth I to write The Merry Wives of Windsor, a comedy spin-off about iconic oaf John Falstaff, after the monarch so thoroughly enjoyed the character in Henry IV pt I. Which would be a bit like the US President asking the creators of Breaking Bad to make Better Call Saul. Elizabeth I certainly had good taste: Falstaff is one of Shakespeare’s great characters, a distortion of a swindler obsessed with augmenting his station with a cup of sack in hand.

The rest of The Merry Wives of Windsor sits around this maverick figure as a series of quirky contrivances, loosely held together through various schemes, deceptions, romantic entanglements and potential marriages. It would be tedious to map out all the goings-on, but suffice to say that Falstaff, lacking funds, decides to trey and court two wealthy women in order to secure some illicit revenue streams. It’s far from Shakespeare’s best comedy, though was only last on Shakespeare’s Globe’s stage six years ago in a slightly tepid production.

Under the even-handed direction of the venue’s deputy artistic director Sean Holmes, what emerges here is a completely serviceable and entertaining evening. Where the cast could be mired down in the shows various tricksy schemes and episodic structure, they are able to mine comedic moments for well-earned laughs and physical beats.

Special mention must go to the remarkable multi-roling of Adam Wadsworth as potential suitors Doctor Caius and Slender, while the two targeted Mistresses – Katherine Pearce (Ford) and Emma Pallant (Page) – are sufficiently steely and afforded enough agency to drive the plot forwards, rather than being forced to sit as bystanders. Jolyon Coy’s increasingly unhinged Ford also pulls off one of the greatest leaps seen on the Globe stage in a fair while.

The occasional gag is lost to poor diction, while some of Shakespeare’s more laboured jokes (an extended section about Latin conjugations, yikes) could certainly be left chopped on the rehearsal room floor. Grace Smart’s premium-grade designs go a long way to demarcate different characters and allegiances, meaning the story never falls by the wayside.

At the heart of it all is Globe regular George Fouracres, taking a small break from his unparalleled take on a certain musical maestro. Fouracres’ mastery of the text, his ability to pluck a laugh from a frenetic Falstaff aside, has to be commended. He also revels in the paradox of this central figure: a womanising, callous and selfish figure no doubt, but also a pitiable man swaddled, mocked and beaten by his peers. It’s perhaps why Holmes, in the final moments of the show, makes his most audacious directorial move – an eye-brow raising yet arguably well-earned one.