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On the left, Henry Firmston and Olivia Sinclair-Brisbane. Text on the right says "Will Power" in bold all-caps.

Acclaimed director and choreographer Donna Feore harpoons celebrity culture and the messy business of theatre in this season's fun-loving musical Something Rotten!

By Katie Hewitt
Photography by Ted Belton

Published Spring 2024

 

William Shakespeare was an influencer with imposter syndrome who plagiarized his greatest work. Or at least that's how the Renaissance rockstar is portrayed in Something Rotten!, a historical fiction about the invention of musicals and the cult of fame. Told by two of Shakespeare's rival playwrights, Nick and Nigel Bottom, the Bard's reputation is fodder for a brewing feud between the publicly revered artist and the scrappy up-and-comers

"Stratford is the best audience this show could ask for," raves director and choreographer Donna Feore. "They come to see musicals. They come to see Shakespeare. What a perfect set-up." A true tribute to theatre, Something Rotten! is packed with references to hit musicals, some of which Feore directed on the very same Festival stage—The Sound of Music, A Chorus Line and The Music Man. It also comes stacked with hype; the show's original Broadway run earned 10 Tony nominations in 2015, including Best Musical. All too aware of its past success, Feore has issued herself a challenge: make a self-referential musical revival original. "I don't want to repeat myself," she says, promising, "I'm not going to hold back."

The Bottom brothers are also after something original, but for different reasons. As their name suggests, the pair are downtrodden, struggling to make it big in the Renaissance arts scene. In 1595 London, their plays are always upstaged by a more popular writer and his notions of star-crossed lovers and ancient grudges. A pox on William Shakespeare.

 

To best the beloved playwright, Nick (Mark Uhre) hires Nostradamus, a soothsayer who can see the future, sort of. Nostradamus predicts musicals will revolutionize theatre and gives Nick an idea to write about… an omelette? Wait, that can't be right. "Nick knows it's a terrible idea," Feore explains. "But he's desperate." Nick convinces himself the idea is just novel enough to work. "Welcome to the Renaissance," the ensemble sings, "Where everything is new!"

And so Nick snubs his own creative instinct in an earnest attempt at fame. Committed to the cause, he shuts down protests from brother and writing partner Nigel (Henry Firmston), who declares, "I'm ignoring the breakfast theme because it's ridiculous." Nick also disregards his befuddled acting troupe (dressed as eggs) and his wife, Bea (Starr Domingue), who defies Renaissance-era gender roles to support her husband. While all evidence points to a flop, Nick leads the charge into the age of musicals. Feore imagines his desperate motivation, "Nick thinks, 'I'm going to do the next greatest thing and Shakespeare can screw himself."

Nick's ill-conceived creation is a musical within a musical that spans genres. "Author's Notes" from writers John O'Farrell and Karey Kirkpatrick suggest striving for "satiric pastiche," not unlike the pitch of last season's spunky production of Monty Python's Spamalot. For Something Rotten! the result is a full tilt musical-a mixed bag of glam rock riffs and classic overtures, all dripping with dramatic irony. Audiences can leave it to Feore to balance big orchestrations and elaborate dance numbers rooted in narrative, not just the spectacle. "How do you avoid parody?" Feore ponders. "You have to have truth to do great comedy. There has to be sincerity. Tell the truth."

 

While the omelette is absurd, envy is familiar. Take Nick's rant, an uptempo number with toe-tapping frustration: "God I hate Shakespeare... I mostly hate the way he makes me feel about me." The hook is universal; it verbalizes the tendency to chase a better version of ourselves through the filtered lens of someone else's life. (Social media and self-doubt, anyone?) Digging deep into Nick's 21st-century-esque neuroses, Feore intends to unpack it all—celebrity, fandom and power. "They're fawning over Shakespeare," she says of audiences. "Back then, he had complete access and quick reach." Four hundred years before Instagram, followers were physical crowds. "Shakespeare figures out what audiences want, and he gives it to them," she muses. "That's what celebrities do."

Feore sympathizes, "As directors, we can't just say, 'I'm going to do my art now', we have to get people there to see it." After all, most art is meant to be seen—a play or musical requires an audience for commercial success. And this fact leads to bigger questions: Is theatre about mass appeal or inner truth? Who decides: the competition, divine inspiration or cash flow?

In Something Rotten! Nick and Nigel's patrons are risk-averse, afraid of Puritans protesting rehearsals and shrinking profits. One funder pushes for a proven model: just copy Shakespeare. Meanwhile, Shakespeare has his own problems. He is a questionable muse given his secret insecurities and habit of stealing material, regularly taking lines from unknown poet Nigel.

Shakespeare wrestles with his fame in the rock anthem, "It's Hard to Be the Bard." A spectacle of Brit rock, Feore calls the song, "a true statement of celebrity and how to sustain it." To stay relevant, "he is reinventing himself constantly." Similarly, reinvention is essential to Feore's creative vision: "When I do a revival at Stratford, as director and choreographer, I will reimagine all of it." Meaning, if you saw Something Rotten! on Broadway, "it won't be the same show," promises the director.

Feore is very much in on the irony of making Something Rotten!—a mashup of her own history with theatre—into something new. "It's very meta. Very self-referential. I've never been in a position like this before, where I'm literally sending myself up." And Shakespeare goes up with her, along with her penchant for directing musicals. The journey is in the show's punchline: "People just start singing for no apparent reason?" Feore says, laughing, alluding to both a scene and a common complaint from non-musical people. "Yes, they do. And it's great!" Stratford Festival Swan icon