17 – 20 June
Shakespeare’s first narrative poem was written in 1592 when the theatres were closed due to an outbreak of plague. It was dedicated to the Earl of Southampton and was an immediate commercial success.
In 2004, the Royal Shakespeare Company collaborated with the Little Angel Theatre to produce an extraordinary, staged version using puppetry, music and narration, directed by Greg Doran. The current revival, touring the UK, is a delight.
The goddess Venus is in love with Adonis, the most beautiful of mortals. In a twist on the original source in Ovid, her love is unrequited and her rejection is expressed in poignant erotic verse, a wonderful foretaste of the magic of the romantic comedies, with all their wit and wisdom. As in the comedies, the imagery embedded in the verse draws on the natural world and its profound connections with our human frailties. But death is never far away. The poem is no exception and there are clear precursors of the tragedies in the terrible ending and the goddess’ prophecies on the sorrows of love.
Five black-clad puppeteers manipulate the half-sized puppets. Their movements are both graceful and precise, expressing human sentiments through gestures large and small. The tiniest flick of a head hints at rejection, the movement of a hand expresses irritation. The puppets are brightly lit, shining out against the dark background, flitting in and around an onstage proscenium arch that hints at the design of a Jacobean masque. It’s fascinating how easily we can identify with these non-human creatures. Without the intervening presence of a human actor, they become repositories of our own emotions. With small puppets, the identification feels particularly intimate. Even the animals have personalities, with the two flirting horses provoking much laughter from the packed auditorium.
Venus and Adonis is rich in humour, as when the goddess flaunts her physical attractions, boasting of her previous conquests, questioning how a mere mortal can resist her. Never forget, she points out, she once had a scene with the God of War! Eventually, her subtle attempts at seduction become desperate and she attempts to overpower the poor youth physically in a brilliant twist on the norm. On reading the poem, it is easy to connect with her story. But this stage version also reminds us of those young men who can easily withstand female beauty and of Shakespeare’s recognition of the limitless world of human sexuality.
The narrator, Simon Russell Beale, has a deep feeling for the rhythm of the language. He sits in full view, downstage right, and his reading is, if anything, understated, giving space for the visual effects to speak. Nick Lee, the lone musician, sits downstage left, drawing the sweet wistful tones of an Elizabethan lute from his modern acoustic guitar.
The lighting is superb, with a pervading mood of gold and amber hinting at something both superhuman and sublime. If you expect an evening of poetry and puppets think again. This is much more than that. It is collaboration at its finest, an uninterrupted hour of theatrical magic. Shakespeare himself would surely approve.
★★★★★ Ros Carne, 18 June 2026
Photography credit: Lucy Barriball
