This weekend I ran away from all my responsibilities and escaped to London. I find that leaving Cambridge during term-time always feels slightly naughty, as if you’re bunking off school, even if it’s a Saturday. Sometimes it’s difficult to remember that it’s perfectly within my rights - and definitely healthy - to take a break from the relentless cycle of work, play, and all those other commitments that I can’t seem to keep myself away from. Varsity, for example. Oops. Ok, so I guess the fact that I’m writing this at all indicates that I didn’t quite manage to completely extricate myself, but I’ll justify this by arguing that the way in which I spent my evening was too good a remedy not to prescribe to others.

A ticket for ‘Twelfth Night’ at the Young Vic Theatre was what lured me back home. I was reluctant to pass up the opportunity to see a musical adaptation of Shakespeare’s well-known comedy, particularly as it is the first show to be staged at the theatre since Kwame Kwei-Armah took over as the artistic director. As the programme informs, this production originally opened on the other side of the pond as part of the Public Theatre’s Public Works Programme, in an attempt to “make the people of New York creators, not just spectators”. Just as in its premiere, it has a chorus comprised of people from local communities: in this case, they are from Southwark and Lambeth, the neighbours and friends of co-directors Kwei-Armah and Oskar Eustis. This intermingling of cast and community, brought together by not only Shakespeare but by a stunning score composed by Shaina Taub, promised a unique spectacle and I was intrigued to see what it could deliver.

The show completely blew me away, even though I am normally averse to employing these kinds of clichés. However, be warned: it certainly takes the immortal quote, ‘if music be the food of love, play on’, extremely literally. Shakespeare’s comedy is given a new and transformative - not to mention sparkly - outfit in this outrageously enjoyable musical adaptation.

"the stage is a space of possibility for fighting, loving, singing, dancing, and even segwaying"

The set is both visually pleasing and exciting. The action takes place in Notting Hill: either side of the stage is lined with a street of vibrantly coloured houses, with those closest to the audience owned by Duke Orsino on one side and Lady Olivia on the other. The stage in-between is a space of possibility for fighting, loving, singing, dancing, and even segwaying (if that’s a verb); all overhung with flag bunting and multi-coloured lights, in the spirit of the famous carnival to which the area of London lends its name.

Music is undoubtedly the food of love, as the audience become increasingly enamoured with each new number. Melding seamlessly with the drama, the lyrics of the songs are simple yet effective, resonating powerfully with many contemporary issues. Viola (played compellingly by Gabrielle Brooks) laments that in pretending to be a man named Cesario, she is unable to freely love the male object of her desire, whilst simultaneously noting that the very disguise which hampers her heart is the one that is socially liberating, convenient and desirable. ‘Oh Disguise, you are the devil’s blessing’, she sings, appealing to all those who have suffered a crisis of identity stemming from social constraints and repressions. Gerard Carey as the despised Malvolio offers an entertaining depiction of contrasting ignorance in his sung affirmations that his greatness – as opposed to his unpleasantness – must be why people dislike him so much. His tap-dancing and appearance in an offensively yellow lycra bodysuit (the stockings get an upgrade) are particularly hilarious highlights.

"It struck me that this theatrical layout couldn’t be further removed from the original Globe theatre in which Twelfth Night was first performed in 1601"

Vibrance and a sense of unification transcends the production, as spectators are greeted on arrival by the sight of a bright array of flags hanging over the balcony: an EU flag, an LGBT+ flag, and a flag reading ‘Black Lives Matter’. To me, this seemed to be an immediate visual signal that the theatre was an inclusive and accessible space, designed to bring people together. The place exuded a welcoming warmth, pulsating with life as everyone milled around drinking and laughing on the upstairs balcony. I was also satisfied to notice the gender-neutral bathrooms, and even more so to overhear a young person explaining the concept to their initially baffled but eventually supportive parent. The transformation of the bathrooms seemed particularly apt in view of the play’s gender-bending content, but also contributed nicely to the overall atmosphere of comfort, acceptance and freedom.

It struck me that this theatrical layout couldn’t be further removed from the original Globe theatre in which Twelfth Night was first performed in 1601: deliberately structured to divide the upper and lower classes between the different levels, the Globe very much enforced a separateness of theatrical experience. In contrast, Kwei-Armah has cultivated a vibrant, welcoming and magnetic environment in which audience members can contribute to the uplifting atmosphere of the drama before it has even begun. ‘Twelfth Night’ in particular lends itself to this kind of setup, as it allows the drama to inherit new contemporary resonances. All signs point towards the heralding of a new age at the Young Vic, one which openly celebrates diversity and encourages togetherness; values which are enshrined in the endlessly joyous production.

Although the play is often criticised for its conclusion, with Viola’s subversive romp coming to an end as all the characters are conveniently married off and put back in their boxes, this particular production strongly emphasises the importance of being able to love and desire without restraint. The involvement of the diverse community chorus alongside the cast highlights that love is communal and platonic, not just erotic, and that ‘if we open our hearts to each other, what a better world it could be’. For me, leaving Cambridge temporarily was bursting one bubble, but Kwame Kwei Armah, Oskar Eustis and Shaina Taub have achieved something so much greater as they hold up a pin to all the social bubbles which divide our population.

(Tickets are still available but selling fast: if you book now you can try to get your hands on the cheapest tickets for just £10!)