Review: Juliet Is Fire, Romeo Got Mad Rizz In This Shakespeare Glowup
Last time I reviewed a Shakespeare play staged by the daring and gifted Sam Gold, I led with a cheeky question about bowls of soup slurped by the ensemble of Macbeth (his invention). I won’t repeat myself by querying the numerous fuzzy, pink teddy bears that appear in Gold’s Romeo + Juliet, a hurtling, pop-scored, brat-summer spin on the lover’s tragedy. Anyway, those ursine plushies require no strenuous interpretation: They’re fluffy tokens of childhood, which the teenage characters cling to even as they stumble into a whirlwind of sex and violence.
The stuffed toys spill out of a shopping cart tipped over center stage in the scenic environment devised by the ingenious collective dots. Nearby rests an inflatable pink plastic recliner. Later the top of the circular playing space will flip up, revealing a field of vibrant flowers. Bathed in Isabella Byrd’s throbbing mauve, red, and blue lights and pounded by EDM beats from an onstage DJ (music by hitmaker Jack Antonoff), Circle in the Square becomes a warehouse rave. Propped on a raised platform to one side there’s yet another (jumbo-size) teddy bear—its torso the hiding place for contraband purchased by Romeo in one fateful scene. Enver Chakartash’s costumes range from glitter-bomb track suits to fashionably ratty streetwear. Characters vape, gender is fluid, desire bi, and death assured. Even if the tale ends in tears, there’s always time for a dance break or karaoke as Juliet serenades the guests at a Capulet party with lyrics never dreamt of in Shakespeare’s philosophy. “All chance / One night / One way to heaven don’t be late hey.” And a hey-nonny-non to you, J-Cap.
Played by the English TV hunk Kit Connor (Heartstopper) Romeo is baby-faced and swole. He wears a see-through mesh tank top that displays a buff, hairless physique (yes, he’s Kenough). As Juliet, Rachel Zegler cuts a petite, gamine figure in various skirts, crop tops and mom jeans. The 23-year-old actress played Juliet’s descendent, Maria, in Steven Spielberg’s West Side Story, but reads as younger, a reminder that Juliet is not yet 14. Fully cognizant of the ruthless standards of early modern England, even Shakespeare allows that the girl’s too young to be married and bearing children. (Republicans may agree to disagree.)
Connor is a bit of a puppy and Zegler’s a wiry ferret. The casting emphasizes an aspect of Romeo and Juliet which the text more or less supports: Romeo as meathead and Juliet as nerd girl with an overactive imagination. Of course, in Shakespeare everybody is hyper-poetic when they need to be, but as the tragedy runs its course, Romeo tends to act before thinking, and Juliet can let thinking get in the way of action. At any rate, Gold’s production doesn’t push any one concept besides the youthquake vibe: they’re kids, and the wicked world eats the young. The hyperpop framing is Gen Z by way of Baz Luhrmann, who—let’s face it—28 years ago put an indelible mark on those horny, mixed-up teens. They all fam in the clerb.
Apart from the Zoomer window dressing, Gold engages in thoughtful and amusing double casting. Sola Fadiran plays both Capulet and Lady Capulet, neatly distinguishing between the husband and wife without overdoing gender stereotypes. Capulet’s angry rant at the recalcitrant Juliet is especially terrifying. The absolutely electric Tommy Dorfman is a study in opposites as Juliet’s daffy, chatty Nurse and ice-cold killer Tybalt. Gían Pérez takes on various clown roles, such as the douchey Paris and feckless Peter. The always-stunning Gabby Beans plays both Mercutio and Friar Lawrence with tremendous panache and humor. Both characters think they know what’s best for Romeo yet end up hastening his self-destruction. Beans’s Mercutio is an acid-tongued stoner perpetually in shades, whereas the friar is a gentle, optimistic soul. She juggles a third character speaking Chorus lines and delivering exasperated edicts from the Duke of Verona. The first act ends as a bloody brawl on a bed of flowers an alarming juxtaposition of brutality and romance. Choreographer Sonya Tayeh gives the movement her signature mix of muscularity and abandon. In the final scene (a bit rushed perhaps so Gold could keep the action more or less at two hours) Romeo and Juliet die splayed over each other. Their cruciform positioning mirrors the giant LED crucifix against the wall behind the DJ. A pretty tableau, but nothing terribly deep. You could say the same of other directorial flourishes, but they’re easily overlooked, since the language is well-delivered and the ensemble appealing. It’s the least boring or cringe Shakespeare I’ve seen in a long time.
Looking back on his Hamlet, Othello, Lear, Macbeth, I’d say Gold has a mixed track record with the major tragedies (watch out, Titus!). This one I’ll remember fondly. Far from leaving with questions, I exited with new lingo. Capulet totes a plastic gallon jug filled with red liquid. In his final, desperate act, Romeo washes down poison powder by swigging from said jug. The item in question is called a BORG—that’s Black Out Rage Gallon—a boozing hack popular on college campuses. So if you notice middle-aged theater critics casually referring to BORGs, you’ll know where they got it. Knowledge is power, kids.
Romeo + Juliet | 2hrs 25mins. One intermission. | Circle in the Square Theatre | 1633 Broadway | 212-239-6200 | Buy Tickets Here