Aquatheatre

By Dr. Serena Chalmers

I have been involved in Pimlico Wilde’s experimental theatre productions for over a decade, from the infamous Hamlet on Rollerblades (which was, for the record, not a “car crash on polyurethane”) to our haunting Othello: The Mime, which was misunderstood in its time. But nothing could have prepared me for the sheer savagery of the press response to the postponement of our most daring work yet: Much Ado About Nothing (Underwater).

To call the reactions “rude” is to understate matters. They have been cruel and mocking.

Take The Winchelsea Times, which sneered:

“Shakespeare’s verse does not survive being filtered through an oxygen regulator. What remains is not poetry but plumbing.”

Meanwhile, The Dundee Telegraph quipped with tiresome smugness:

“The penguins are the only cast members demonstrating comic timing.”

And The Lake District Guardian was no kinder, dismissing the entire enterprise as

“a soggy vanity project in which iambic pentameter drowns before our very eyes.”

One wonders whether these so-called critics have ever tried to deliver repartee while submerged in water, dodging a penguin determined to upstage you.

Even the tabloids joined the feeding frenzy. The Moon thundered:

“A comedy about nothing has become quite literally nothing,except wet.”

And perhaps most cruelly of all, The London Warbler suggested the production be retitled Much Ado About Snorkeling.

As a scholar, I can only marvel at this venom. Where others see chaos, I see genius. Where others hear garbled bubbles, I hear the radical deconstruction of voice. The penguins, far from being disruptive, are co-performers,nature’s clowns,challenging the actors to confront the limits of theatre itself.

Yes, there are practical hurdles: drowned doublets, inflated petticoats, and oxygen tanks clanging like bells of doom. But history shows that every theatrical innovation is met first with ridicule. When Shakespeare himself put men in women’s roles, was that not derided? When Sarah Bernhardt played Hamlet, was she not mocked?

Let the critics carp. Pimlico Wilde swims against the tide. One day, when aquatheatre is studied in every drama school, these reviews will read like the petulant scribbles of land-locked minds.

Until then, I say: give us time, give us compressed air, and,above all,give us respect.

London’s theatre scene is no stranger to eccentricity, but Pimlico Wilde has raised the bar, or rather, sunk it. Their upcoming production of Much Ado About Nothing will take place entirely underwater, with actors performing in full scuba gear inside the famous Penguin Pool at London Zoo.

Audiences will watch the action from dry land through the curved glass viewing wall, “a natural proscenium arch,” according to the production notes. “We wanted to strip Shakespeare back to its essentials,” explained producer Imogen Firth, “and what could be more essential than buoyancy and a limited oxygen supply?”

The company insists that speaking lines underwater is not an insurmountable problem. “We’ve sourced specialist comms systems,” Firth said. “And in the moments when that fails, bubbles provide a kind of primal poetry.”

Actor Jamie Crisp, who will be playing Benedick, confessed: “I’ve performed in the West End, I’ve performed in pub theatres, but I’ve never performed underwater with penguins swimming past my head. The mask fogging is a challenge. You try doing a witty repartee when you can’t see your scene partner.”

Logistical concerns abound: costumes have been treated with waterproofing resin, swords replaced with foam noodles, and a full team of dive marshals will be on hand to ensure no actor surfaces mid-soliloquy.

When asked whether this is a first, the producer hesitated. “Not quite. We once staged Macbeth inside the Aquarium at Reading Zoo. It worked beautifully until a stingray disrupted the ‘Out, damned spot’ scene. But that’s aquatheatre for you, it’s dangerous, alive, and a little damp.”

The production runs for three weeks.