“It is excellent to have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.” How appropriate then, that the RSC’s latest production of ‘Measure for Measure’ begins with a montage of clips displaying various tyrannous giants, including Donald Trump, Boris Johnson and Matt Hancock, perfectly setting the stage for the dark and seedy story to come. Emily Burns’ adaptation sets the play firmly in the present, and never has Shakespeare warranted an update more – this feels like no mere gimmick to appeal to the masses, rather an appropriate response to Shakespeare’s notorious ‘problem play’. More than anything, this play reminds us of the scale of corruption still present within our political system, and the fact that this 400-year-old play is able to feel so prescient is both surprising and dismaying. Have we really not moved on in the last 400 years?
Disgraced Duke Vincentio (Adam James) decides to leave Vienna and go into hiding, after failing to uphold the law and allowing the city to fall into disrepute. Taking charge in the Duke’s place is Tom Mothersdale’s Angelo, who decides to overcorrect by enforcing strict laws – in particular, ruling that sex outside marriage will be punishable by death. Quickly we are introduced to Claudio (Oli Higginson), whose girlfriend Juliet (Miya James) has fallen pregnant, and who is now sentenced to die. The opening of the play introduces these various plot points in quick succession, hardly allowing the audience time to adjust to this new authoritarian regime ruled over by Angelo’s steady hand. Mothersdale presents a man trying to remain calmly in control, but furiously flailing beneath the surface. He ends up making rash decisions, acting too quickly without considering the consequences, mirrored by his indigestion, which he suffers with throughout. It should be clear, though, that at no point do we empathise or feel sorry for this man. Mothersdale attempts to appeal to the audience, using soliloquys to try to justify his actions. It doesn’t work. He is abhorrent, and the play is all the better for it.
Attempting to prevent her brother’s death, Claudio’s sister Isabella (Isis Hainsworth) tries to reason with Angelo, claiming she will do anything to save her sibling. It is a claim she will live to regret. Angelo becomes besotted with the nun-to-be, and agrees to pardon her brother if Isabella gives up her virginity to him. The scenes they share together, in which Angelo makes his proposition, which steadily becomes more threatening, makes for uncomfortable yet compelling viewing. Hainsworth masters the mixture of disgust, contempt, anger and ultimately acceptance that is so crucial in making this story land. She brings a naivety and innocence to the stage, easily the most endearing figure in a play filled with morally reprehensible individuals. After receiving Angelo’s grotesque proposal, she turns to the audience, pleading with her eyes, no need for words to convey her whirlwind of emotions. Moments in the play, despite being performed in the vast space of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, are incredibly intimate, drawing the audience in to the point where one finds themselves holding their breath. It is gripping stuff.
Having said that, Isabella is not a character without bite. Early moments in the play see a more feisty side to her, particularly when she clashes with Higginson’s Claudio after initially refusing to sleep with Angelo. Higginson is obnoxious and uncaring – despite being on death row, it is hard to sympathise with him. It pushes us ever closer to Isabella. Isabella’s fiery nature slowly wears away over the course of the play, leaving her broken and hopeless. It is utterly devastating, and emotionally draining – this is an exhausting watch, but one that you cannot tear your eyes from.
Frankie Bradshaw’s set design feels cold and clinical. From the glass walls of Claudio’s prison cell, to the bright lights and leather seats of Angelo’s office, everything is so clean and pristine that it perfectly juxtaposes the dirty, underhand games at play. As James’ Duke returns, the entire back wall opens up, the lighting tilts, everything feels more open and the claustrophobic nature of the early scenes dissipates. We are treated to some of the most adept camera work I have seen recently, thanks to Kaffe Keating and Katie Singh’s excellent technical ability, with large screens either side of the stage helping to highlight certain characters and draw our attention to particular reactions. The nature of the final scene means that the majority of the cast need to be onstage – the cameras allow for more interesting staging, meaning that certain characters can turn their back on the audience, or be masked by other actors, and yet still be seen on the screens. It solves a problem, whilst also adding to the production value. The entire thing is played as a media conference, so it serves a narrative purpose as well.
The play is full of disturbing imagery, but none more so than the close of the first half, as Isabella agrees to submit to Angelo, with a little assistance from Angelo’s ex Mariana (Emily Benjamin). As the tension ramps up, Elvis’s “I can’t help falling in love with you” kicks in, creating a scene that feels incredibly indecent. The audience find themselves paralysed, unable to look away as Isabella slowly unbuttons Angelo’s shirt. And in the back of our minds are those images of Trump, Johnson, Hancock… It is sobering, haunting and yet so, so real.
Anyone hoping for a happy ending here will be disappointed, and rightly so. Shakespeare’s “comedy” is robbed of many of its comedic characters (Pompey, Elbow and Mistress Overdone are cut from this version), Burns choosing instead to focus on the more downbeat, tragic elements – although there are some more light-hearted segments thanks to Douggie McMeekin’s Lucio and John Vernon’s Barnardine. As Angelo is humiliated, covering his head with his suit jacket in a childish and pathetic reaction to his undoing, the audience cannot help but feel that there is more tragedy ahead, and they are right. James’ Duke, who up until now has appeared as a fairly moral compass (in comparison with the other politicians on display) now steps up to show his true colours, by insisting that Isabella marries him. It is a gut punch, and yet Hainsworth’s reaction is to laugh at the absurdity of Vincentio’s hypocrisy. As the show draws to a close, Isabella realises that there is no escape from the formidable patriarchy – except the obvious. The sudden cut to blackout leaves the audience in a wave of silence, everyone struggling to process the culmination of this tragic tale.
This is a captivating production, Burns superbly updating Shakespeare’s classic to make it feel relevant, and adding her own spin to events in order to start important conversations. Every character is well-realised, every twist and turn perfectly signposted, every pause helps to ramp up the tension to breaking point. A depressingly good production, and one that I simply cannot recommend enough.
Tom Morley, October 2025
Review round-up:
The Guardian: Measure for Measure review – 5 stars from The Guardian, who are full of praise for Angelo, saying ‘Mothersdale […] soars the highest in making Angelo both appalling and human.’
Beyond The Curtain: Measure for Measure – BtC give the show 4 stars, calling the show ‘a powerful reminder of the timeless struggle between morality and power’
WhatsOnStage: Measure for Measure – WoS were not quite as impressed, with a 3 star review that says that director Burns is ‘ultimately confounded by the bizarre motives and contemporary misogyny of the play, which leave Isabella stranded in a modern interpretation that offers her nowhere to go‘
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