“Love’s Labour’s Lost” at the Globe Theatre
Neil Dowden on the South Bank
★★★★☆
3 August 2026
Love’s Labour’s Lost may be one of Shakespeare’s lesser-known plays but it’s been back in vogue recently. The RSC staged the work in 2024, Shakespeare in the Squares performed it in various London gardens earlier this summer, the Orange Tree/Guildford Shakespeare Company open-air co-production (in tandem with Much Ado About Nothing) has just transferred from Guildford to Richmond – and now the Globe Theatre is getting in on the act. Indiana Lown-Collins’s vivacious, flamenco-flavoured production has opened in suitably Andalusian-style sweltering heat.
Photo credit: Tristram Kenton.
This early romantic comedy has never been as popular as others by Shakespeare, due to its flimsy plot, thin characterization, knotty linguistic jokes and obscure allusions that don’t register with modern audiences – oh, plus a sudden ending that leaves the protagonists, and us, in the lurch. Yet it also has the capacity to be funny and warmly engaging, with its battle of wits between the sexes in which the women run rings around the men. This fiesta-style revival may not be especially subtle, foregrounding visual flourish over verbal ingenuity, but it’s always entertaining while making a tricky play accessible. And its passionate sensuality is difficult to resist.
While like the original the show is set in the Pyrenean border kingdom of Navarre and features the “fantastical Spaniard” Don Adriano de Armado, Lown-Collins has introduced several further Spanish elements. The visiting Princess of France is now the heir to the throne of Spain and wants to discuss the status of Aragon rather than Aquitaine with the King of Navarre. As well as cultural references like paella, some Spanish phrases have been inserted, culminating in a “Spanglish” exchange between the schoolteacher Holofernes and the curate now called Nathaniela (with both roles gender-flipped) which replaces the rather arcane Latin-language exchange between the two pedants.
The biggest Spanish impact though is undoubtedly the flamboyant use of flamenco dancing, singing, and music. As well as a pair of dedicated male and female dancers (Pablo Egea and Anita La Maltesa). Many of the cast also show off their flamenco moves, while a singer and band are on stage most of the time participating in the action. A highlight of the show is – changed from the original’s deer hunt – the Princess of Spain acting as a matador of love in theatrically conquering the bull-like male dancer as a metaphor for her wounding the heart of the King of Navarre. But it also points towards death which chills the blood at the end of the play, with flamenco the ideal embodiment of sex and violence.
Of course the comic vein predominates in Love’s Labour’s Lost in a play that is all about the rising attraction between the male court of Navarre and the female court of (in this show) Spain – a kind of courtship dance indeed. The King of Navarre and three lords have just forsaken the company of women to dedicate themselves to three years of study and fasting when – with uncanny timing and matching numbers – the Spanish diplomatic mission turns up led by the Princess and her three ladies.
Of course it’s not long before the lords break their oaths. This is cleverly presented as a sort of mating dance, with the men while writing their love letters evoking the women who do a sexy dance on a platform in the middle of the yard which provokes a similar response from the men on stage. When the lords disguised as Muscovites turn up to court the ladies the latter are forewarned so wear masks and swap identities to confuse them. The flirtation is slightly lost in the farce here though it’s upbeat fun.
If the banter between Berowne and Rosaline foreshadows that of Benedick and Beatrice in Much Ado, the presentation of the Nine Worthies by the minor characters to their social superiors looks forward to the play-within-a-play of Pyramus and Thisbe by the rude mechanicals in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Again, it’s rather crudely overdone – especially remarks about the sex life, or lack of it, of Elizabeth I who is here added to the outsized parade of legendary figures – but full of exuberant energy.
It’s a confident solo director debut by Lown-Collins at the Globe – after previous collaborations there – drawing on her own Spanish roots (like several of the cast and other creatives). Katie Lias’s set design encloses the stage pillars in blue and yellow map-like patterns, backed by an ornate gate and Moorish tiles, while her costumes have the women wearing vibrantly coloured, flowing dresses and the men in figure-hugging, gold-trimmed white outfits. Choreographer and movement director Carmen Igarza deserves special credit for filling the stage with seductive dance. Co-composers Michael McMahon and Adrián Solá lead the small group of flamenco artists who inject real passion into the story.
The cast fully embrace the high-spirited approach, even if occasionally strong Spanish accents make it difficult to hear every word in this outdoor venue. Norah Lopez Holden is outstanding as the playfully regal Princess of Spain, impressing equally in her acting and dancing, while Ned Costello is a likeably non-disciplinarian King of Navarre. Philip Arditti is an amusingly hypocritical Berowne, with Bea Segura as his sparring partner Rosaline. Katy Stephens doubles as the lady Maria and bumbling Holofernes. And Andro Crespo is fittingly flamboyant as Don Adriano de Armado, who heads a subplot involving a ménage à trois with land worker Jaquenetta (Jimena Larraguivel) and stable hand Costard (Joshua Hill) that sends up grand romantic love.
