Co-produced by Cheek by Jowl, Compañía Nacional de Teatro Clásico (CNTC Madrid) and LAZONA; in collaboration with the Barbican, London and Scène Nationale d’ALBI-Tarn, France

Directed by Declan Donnellan 

Designed by Nick Ormerod

A stillness. Enjoy it – it isn’t going to last long.

And then, for the next 130 minutes, chaos. The undiluted chaos as Life is a Dream messily ricochets across the Royal Lyceum and splinters the edges of reality in this wander through the dreamscape of the impossible in Declan Donnellan’s visually striking, even cartoonish, Spanish language production.

Locked high into the tower the Polish prince Segismundo has been left lurching in the dark since birth by his father, King Basilio, for fear he may grow into a nasty sort and collapse all things and usher in oppression and misery. With the softening of age, Basilio relinquishes control of Segismundo, allowing him to leave the tower for an experiment: if chaos will reign, and Segismuno will be told it was all a dream; or if the young prince can rule and remain in this world.

A classic text that propels titanic collisions to the forefront: reality or fantasy, destiny against choice, and the ever-present nurture vs. nature are all for the taking in Cheek by Jowl’s first all-Spanish language production. Initially enrapturing and perplexing, as the story unfolds and the barriers weaken, Declan Donnellan and Nick Ormerod’s script becomes lost in its own ventures.

Amidst all of this, you might just get a touch lost. Unsure of which door to open.

As Cheek by Jowl’s international co-production with Madrid’s Compañía Nacional de Teatro Clásico (and others) begins the curtain-tail of this year’s International Festival, nearly twenty years after it was staged by Catalan director Calixto Bieito’s version of Jo Clifford’s English translation, and is a stark difference in tone and aesthetics than the Lyceum’s own 2021 revival starring Lorn MacDonald, Anna Russel-Martin and Alison Peebles.

The audience is (somewhat) safe, even as the playful sense of freedom allows the eight performers a largely unrestricted performance space across the theatre, often lifting the house lights and interacting with the front row, clambering in the royal boxes or Segismundo runs riots and throws people out the rear entrances.

Tone is tossed to the mercy of the audience, as we catapult back from intense performance and skits of cartoonish laughter, dance routines and vivid illusions. It’s a free-fall, but for the moments we latch, it works remarkably well, fascinatingly so, Fernando Epelde’s constantly switching and changing sound design echoing showtunes and radio static.

Elements which offer security though as Alfredo Noval as Segismundo, navigating the script to appear both as frenzied madman and confident, meticulous ruler, always having a ball with the role. Equally as commanding, solemnly observing nearly all the show, often sat detached from it all is Ernesto Arias in a defining performance – measured against the madness, supported well by Alfredo Noval, Goizalde Núñez, and Irene Serrano as they frantically scatter themselves in and out of the doors behind Arias.

The monstrous eyes of envy permeate the entire production, with Nick Ormerod’s emerald-green backdrop of doors being the one true source of colour among a sea of suits and black. Save for one significant costume change, Rebeca Matellán take to the stage in a thunderingly deep and sharp shade of green.

Unchained, Life is A Dream succeeds in many avenues, capturing the illusionary rarity of the classic story, while infusing originality in design and spirit. It perhaps wanders too closely to the edges of dreams and embraces chaos a touch too readily, but that’s the spirit as it charters the unexpectant waters behind the doors of fantasy, fatalism and fate.