Juliet & Romeo

One might well be wary of any version of Shakespeare’s famous work naively billed as ‘the world’s greatest love story.’ Wary, too, of one that opens with grieving, reunited families standing around their entwined bodies, the boy’s head resting upon the breast of the girl – a position which, if you’re familiar with the ending, raises questions on multiple levels. This isn’t quite what it seems, however, as Timothy Scott Bogart’s musical is based not on the play but on the traditional stories that preceded it (despite the promotional claim, there is little evidence that any of these is true – at any rate, references to them appear in literature at an earlier date than the events of this version are set). It weaves lines from Shakespeare's play into its script but is never dominated by them. His full suite of characters is present, but some liberties have been taken with their development, not least because Bogart wants to make his film accessible to a young, present day audience.

Equipped with a fine cast, he has every opportunity. The set design is marvellous, capturing scenes from famous paintings, giving us a brief glimpse of the courtyard famously associated with the tale, and interweaving other handsome Italian settings with a variety of stages. The Apothecary’s workshop cleverly references cutting edge 15th Century science whilst capturing the spirit of a Universal Pictures mad scientist’s laboratory; discovered early on, it makes room for some slightly gruesome foreshadowing that recalls Re-Animator. Similar attention has been paid to the costuming, which draws very effectively on the fashions of the time and effectively distinguishes class without bedecking its poor peasants in shades of brown. Alas, what we see does not meet its match in what we hear.

The music lets it down badly. Overproduced, tonally homogenised and all at the same volume – which makes no sense in this dramatic context – it lacks the texture that other aspects of the film are striving hard for. There’s a flatness to the melodies, sapping it of energy despite enthusiastic dance routines. We catch glimpses of real instruments appropriate to the period, and it would be nice to be able to hear them distinctly. “Something better than this has got to be coming,” goes one early lyric. Alas, though one cannot help but agree, that is a vain hope.

Despite a bit of play with parodies of pop hits, which briefly inject more life, it comes to feel like a bad year at Eurovision without the same camp self-awareness. Bogart plays with the structures of it well enough - having Juliet and her mother sing of their distress at being trapped by fate and expectation, intercut with their servants, many of them people of colour, doing likewise, makes a salient point. It’s just exhausting to be trapped in this echoing headspace for two hours, and you may be tempted to wear earplugs and seek out a version with subtitles.

To do so would be to miss some impressive performances. Derek Jacobi makes a wonderful Friar, sharing many scenes with Dan Fogler’s Apothecary, an arrangement which makes room for more sanguine perspective and the discussion of social issues which tragically remain pertinent today. Jason Isaacs nicely balances sympathy and force as Lord Montague – too often a one note character in other adaptations – and Martina Ortiz Luis does a lot with a small role as Veronica. Though he doesn’t get the screentime the character deserves, Nicholas Podany does a decent job at communicating the emotional complexity of Mercutio, and Bogart has the sense to respect Shakespeare’s restraint rather than making his feelings for Romeo more overt in accordance with modern values.

The young leads acquit themselves pretty well given that they labour more than anyone under the dull weight of the songs. Clara Rugaard has played Juliet before, in TV series Still Star-Crossed, and although she’s now 15 years older than her, she captures that youthful innocence nicely. Importantly, she does so without making her dull. This Juliet is an adventurer, a seeker after experience whose horror at the prospect of marriage seems to be as much about the loss of her freedoms as longing for her one true love. As Romeo, Jamie Ward looks like an escapee from a boy band and does not seem to possess much depth, but does seem believable – a kid out of his depth in a political climate where that could be very dangerous. Reflecting on the ambitions of Rome, Bogart does a good job of selling Verona’s vulnerability, which raises the stakes all round.

There are some clever references to early versions of the story which will charm the initiated. We do get a balcony scene – a late addition which Shakespeare himself never mentioned – but there is more satisfying fun to be had with catacombs and secret tunnels, which combine with masks to make Verona a city where young lovers can easily move around undetected. A brothel scene perhaps takes things a bit too far with its happy hooker vibes, but all in all, it works – apart from that music. Perhaps young viewers who rarely stray beyond the realms of manufactured pop will be more able to forgive this, but for the rest of us, this has no silver sound, and lovers’ tongues thus sound less sweet.

Reviewed on: 10 Jun 2025