My previous summer was graced with a truly lovely piece of theatre I could so easily have missed, since it’s rather out of the way for me. I feel quite lucky to have made it out to Port Perry to catch Theatre on the Ridge’s production of Bluebirds. It was a no brainer, then, when the invite came in for their production of Romeo & Juliet.
Though not a favourite Shakespeare for me, it’s pretty good, right?, but more than anything I wanted desperately to be back under that open-air tent to experience more of Iain Moggach’s gently insightful and persuasive direction. He has a knack for deceptively playful and breezy mise en scène that convey themes and emotions with a consistent and beguiling lightness of touch.
Not that I needed further convincing, but this version also features original music by Landon Doak (who seems to be everywhere recently and all power to them because they’re ridiculously talented). This adaptation, by Doak and Moggach, whittles the text down to just the most essential beats and dramatis personae.
Of the many interesting dynamics of this reworking, two of my favourites are the removal of Lady Capulet, turning the Nurse (Shannon Pitre) into the only motherly figure of the Capulet household and giving Mercutio (Kieran Prouty) and Benvolio (Hilary Wheeler) some hot and heavy flirtation. Honestly, Romeo (Ben Ridd) is sort of a third wheel in their friend group and that tickles me.
Before I get into the weeds with some of the lovely little details of performance, I have to stress just how gorgeous and compelling the overall vibes are here. Each of the actors play instruments within scenes, giving this a quaint, whimsically fourth-wall dissolving intimacy. It feels as if we’re cozily immersed in an affectionate troupe’s jam session. That ambiance supports the comic set-ups of those early story beats, a giddy blend of youthful bashfulness and bravado.
Moggach’s production design (dressed by Alora Kotelo, Carey Nicholson and Andy Williamson) offers further support for that atmosphere, with a folksy backdrop of hung patchwork quilts and string lights. In the more sombre final moments in the tomb, those quilts are pulled back to reveal the backstage area, a choice that somehow intensifies the theatrical intimacy with sly deference. Kotelo’s costume coordination furthers the unassuming, folksy aesthetic—a homely gestalt of denim, slacks and tank tops, embellished here and there with narrative particulars. The subtle lighting, faint warm and cool washes by Lyle Corrigan and Moggach, creeps in as the sun falls below the horizon and feels perfectly integrated with those final rays.
Here are a few snapshots of highlights I’d like to give some love to:
The mischievous momentum of the musicalized balcony scene and the effervescent energy of Ridd and Una Roulston (as Juliet).
The playfully provocative, touchy-feely comfort between Prouty and Ridd during Mercutio’s naughty speech, and the way Queen Maeve (Pitre) manifests during it. I especially appreciated how this spectre of Maeve is tied to Mercutio and, together, the two haunt the violence between Romeo and Tybalt (Michael Williamson).
Williamson’s surprisingly buoyant and colourful Friar Lawrence.
The patience and restraint of the scene where the Nurse (Pitre) finds Juliet seemingly dead. Pitre and Moggach really give this heartbreaking moment room to breathe. It feels especially poignant in the wake of the kinetic energy that lead up to it.
Pretty much every damn scene with Elm Reyes’s Capulet! Ever so mildly flamboyant, their authority is infinitely palpable, whether they are hosting guests for a ball, venting their rage or wracked with grief. Such charisma and gravitas! I was genuinely intimidated by their fatherly scolding of Juliet when she refuses marriage to Paris.
That’s it from me. I’ll make my exit here before I jeopardize the charming, picturesque mystique of this spry and uplifting take on the classic, somewhat ubiquitous, tragedy!



