Staff writer Charlotte Galea reviews Shakespeare Society’s latest production, a sapphic telling of ‘Romeo and Juliet’, wherein the usually male lead had feminine pronouns.
Anyone on the internet in the past few months won’t have missed the impressive pull-up during the balcony scene in Broadway’s ‘Romeo and Juliet‘, starring Heartstopper’s Kit Connor and West Side Story’s Rachel Zegler. Tom Holland—famously in one of the most high-profile romances in Hollywood—recently performed the titular role in London. Across the globe, awkward teenagers read the centuries-old lines in English classes every year. Last semester, our very own Shakespeare society tackled the play, making it sapphic: Romeo was played by a woman.
The play ran from the 5th to the 6th of December 2024 and was directed by Evie Korten, a second-year English student, with assistant directors Gian Ghatora and Jules Liu, and producer Lantukh.
Henny Sonnemann-Petty, the production’s Romeo, made the impact of her opportunity to play a male role clear: ‘I’d done speeches of Romeo before, and always really loved the raw emotion that he has, but never thought anyone would do a version where I could play Romeo, let alone play Romeo as a female’. What was most interesting to her, she said, was interpreting feminine modes of anger into a traditionally masculine, traditionally very rash, character. The experience was so transformative that the Philosophy, Economics, and Politics student has decided to pursue theatre after she graduates. ‘It’s something that brings me pure joy that I don’t seem to find anywhere else.’
Sonnemann-Petty was complimented by Emma Howard-Littlefield as Juliet. Together, they were a dream. Every scene between them was magic: their introductory shared sonnet was electrifying. The balcony scene felt too intimate for prying eyes. This was a very tactile ‘Romeo and Juliet’, and so there was not a single moment I did not believe they were in love to the point of extremity.
Howard-Littlefield, an English student, read ‘Searching for Juliet’ by Sophie Duncan to prepare for her role. She adores the character, and took seriously the ways in which Juliet exemplifies the fatal consequences of leaving women without support. She was avidly supportive of the choice to make the play sapphic, stating that the play lends itself to these changes. ‘If you’re doing [Romeo and Juliet] now, and you’re still doing it with a cis-het white couple where there’s no commentary, what’s the point?’ She remarked to me.
The production had a brilliant ensemble. Anushka Sabhanam, who’s humorous yet motherly portrayal of the Nurse had the whole audience in stitches, and Sarib Khan, who made Friar Lawrence relatable, paternal, and genuine, were notable standouts.
Cait Roddam Jones as the Prince was a similar stand-out, despite her sparse scenes. She was fierce and dramatic, cold and unyielding with a voice that boomed around the auditorium, and I, for one, hope to can see more of her in further productions.
Notable members of the cast included the eccentric and feminine Mercutio (Millie Rose), and the natural and friendly Benvolio (Amber Hill), who made for a brilliant duo. Sylvie Goodwin as Lady Montague had the hardest role of the evening, as her partner Lord Montague (Malachy Gordon), was ill that evening, and her character was given a large amount of his lines. She adapted brilliantly, and managed to play the character without the crutch of another parent. In one of the final moments on stage, when the families are settling their differences over the bodies of their children, the Lords would ordinarily shake hands, but instead, Lord Capulet shook the hand of Lady Montague, and the scene was all the better for it.
The set design was slightly disappointing; I expected more creativity from the group which beautifully executed A Midsummer Night’s Dream last year. Creatively, the production design attempted to stay as close to fourteenth-century Italy as possible. Realistically, this is impossible with a university-student-group budget; I think the play would have been better served by a cheaper, more intentional industrial set. The costuming however, was fabulous, each floral and draping fabric giving a colour and vibrancy to the production. The distinctions between the Montagues and Capulets were clear (Romeo in blue and Juliet in red) and the choice to progressively dress Juliet in Romeo’s discarded clothes was a sweet touch.
King’s Shakespeare Society is not the first to produce a queer rendition of Shakespeare—gender and sexuality are some of the bard’s favorite themes, and Romeo and Juliet are a couple textually well-matched in their androgyny. That said, the play was in good hands with King’s students. Seeing overworked students perform the play unabridged, all for the love of it, was nothing short of magical.
Months after the show’s close, I keep thinking of this: two lovers lying together centre-stage, while the company, filing in, fights off darkness with lamps in hand. These were all students—students who have doubtlessly passed unnoticed by me in hallways. But in that moment they were something out of myth and legend, something holy. On that image, the curtain closed on Romeo and her Juliet.
