A Midsummer Night’s Dream is perhaps the most ubiquitous of all the Shakespeare comedies. Even if you don’t know the plot, you probably somehow do a little bit. That’s certainly how I felt heading into this new musical adaptation, Knight’s Dream, which offers a contemporary spin on the classic story with several preserved plot lines.
Knight’s Dream takes place in a nightclub of the same name. We are introduced to the bartender, our Puck-esque character, and a mysterious shining red liquid ominously called ‘lovedrug’. Over the course of a rather chaotic evening, this musical unfolds as a series of tricks and manipulations that all seem to revolve around desire, control, or the desire for control.
The show centres around a group of four university students – the women in which are immediately harassed by a group of lewd men – and the owner of the club and his fiance, Tulisa. The owner, Oscar, drugs Tulisa so that she makes a fool of herself by fawning over a random punter in a donkey mask. Our Helena-esque character, Carmen, accidently drugs both her love interest and another friend who immediately begin tripping over themselves in competition for her affections. The Bartender looks on throughout, occasionally comforting or twisting the characters’ actions to suit their will. There are some recognisable plot points from the Shakspeare classic, but this is a highly condensed adaptation with noticeable gaps.
While an interesting interpretation of a classic, this musical does not quite find the right balance of tone. A Midsummer Night’s Dream works well because it is a comedy, the farce of which is played up throughout and it never shines too close of a light onto some of the more serious undertones we are conscious of as a 2026 audience. Knight’s Dream, in contrast, struggles from the off as it begins to tackle the issue of consent head on. Not necessarily a bad choice, but messily executed. The opening song telling us all about the mysterious new potion sets the tone for a gritty musical drama centred around an extremely dicey date-rape drug. But gritty we don’t really get.
As we move through the piece, it’s clear the writer is trying to at once address the issue of consent but also lure us towards a comedy. The result is a muddled show which does neither element particularly successfully. The book writing is engaging in places, but generally struggles to support the weight of the serious scenes it encases. The music writing suffers in its poor lyricism which fails to advance the plot, though the conceptual ambition of the writer is to be admired.
The saving grace of this production lies in its heart and performances. With particularly excellent performances from the Bartender and Theo (our Demetrius character) that inject levity, excitement and humour into the show, the hour is pleasant enough to watch. You can clearly tell this is a group of young theatre makers who are passionate about the project and having a lot of fun together onstage. This allows us as an audience to recognise this project for what it is: an early and valiant attempt at creating an original show from a team that feels like they’re in the beginning stages of their creative potential.
Ambitious but lacking in the specificity needed to tackle such this topic, Knight’s Dream is a not-yet-polished product that holds good potential from a group of tenacious young theatre makers.
Recommended Drink: A shot of Sourz – vibrant and neon just like the bar’s signature signage. Just make sure you keep your eyes on it.
Performances of Knight’s Dream have now concluded at EdFringe 2026.





