On 26 April 1916, British authorities imposed martial law throughout Ireland in the wake of the Easter Rising, an insurgent paramilitary movement that had seized control of strategic landmarks throughout Dublin and proclaimed an independent Irish republic. On 27 April, the day after the announcement of the military curfew, an editorial in The Irish Times urged citizens to turn their ‘enforced domesticity’ to intellectual advantage by reading Shakespeare by the fireside. Why would The Irish Times suggest that Dubliners brush up their Shakespeare while gunfire and artillery shells shattered the city around them – causing, among other casualties, the fiery destruction of Dublin’s grand and newly constructed Coliseum Theatre? This essay uses the editorial and the short history of the Coliseum to explore the significance of Shakespeare in Ireland – first, within the wartime historical context of the Easter Rising, and then within the broader history of Shakespearean performance and reception in Ireland. It explores the often-fraught relationship of Ireland’s writers and revolutionaries to Shakespeare, from the period leading into the Easter Rising up to the present – notably including Irish director Caroline Byrne’s decision to set her 2016 production of The Taming of the Shrew in Ireland in 1916, as a mediation on the evolving legacies of the Rising and Shakespeare.

The ‘Crimean’ or Russian War (as its contemporaries termed it) was fought as a worldwide imperial struggle for power that took place on many fronts including in the Arctic. Just as tensions between Britain and Russia were coming to a head, The Taming of the Shrew premiered at the Royal Arctic Theatre on the HMS Resolute. Announced by a playbill that suggested monarchical patronage, the production employed all the conventions of London theatricals: grand decorations and costumes, a prologue and afterpiece, music and dancing. Threaded throughout with patriotic references, the theatre event culminated in a rousing rendition of ‘God Save the Queen’. Encouraging social cohesion and boosting morale, Shakespeare served as a reminder of shared British values and cherished traditions. Such expressions of unity and resolve were essential in anticipation of the war that was finally declared on 28 March 1854. William T. Mumford’s playbill brings to light this rich, complex, and forgotten moment in British wartime history in which ‘Shakespeare’ played a unique part as catalyst for affirming national identity, British naval pride, and loyalty to the Crown.

This chapter explores Zeffirelli’s three Shakespearean films, The Taming of the Shrew (1967), Romeo and Juliet (1968) and Hamlet (1990), well known for the visual banquets they constitute, the memorable soundscapes they feature and their stimulating casting choices. The purpose of this chapter is to suggest that, as designer and director, Zeffirelli has managed to combine movement and fixity, so that these films can be regarded as living monuments. Far from being mere visual decoration, the designs that are at the heart of Zeffirelli’s films are infused with life and reinvigorate the vision of the plays. Analysing ‘household stuff’ coming to life in The Taming of the Shrew, the battle of energies in Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet’s labyrinth of fury, the chapter shows how the architecture and design of the films make them monuments. There is a lot of art in this matter. There is a lot of life in these monuments.

Concentrating on adaptations of As You Like It, Love’s Labour’s Lost, Much Ado About Nothing, The Taming of the Shrew and Twelfth Night, this chapter argues that Shakespeare’s comedies on screen constitute a significant and cross-fertilizing body of work. Scriptwriters have pursued imaginative routes through the syntax of the comedies, and there has been considerable experiment in terms of updating Shakespeare’s language. Comedy is the genre where constructions of gender/sexuality are often expressed with filmmakers recognizing in Shakespeare’s comedies opportunities to explore agency, voice and embodiment. The comedies on screen anticipate many of the themes energizing recent criticism, and in this there is a pronounced self-consciousness. Harking back to earlier experiments, the most recent Shakespearean comedies showcase their own artifice along with strategies of revision dependent on a dense intertextuality.