Rather than skipping over its idiosyncrasies, Thea Sharrock tackles As You Like It head on and takes a firm grip on Shakespeare’s fairy-tale of love. She delves into the play’s hidden pockets of comedy and tragedy, delighting in the distinct flavour of every scene and encouraging her actors to season at will. It is rare to see such excellent and sustained acting at the Globe, but this company achieves the perfect balance, reaching out to their audience, whilst still digging deep inside the text. The result is Shakespeare as it should be – easy to watch, easier still to understand and effortlessly illuminating.

Not only does this production embrace the play’s peculiarities, it also recognises and incorporates the limitations of the Globe. Rather than trying to disguise the immoveable, looming pillars on-stage, Sharrock makes them a key feature of her design and manages to shut down the sprawling stage space, whilst still retaining its sweeping magic. She is equally sensitive when handling the text and although this romantic comedy is largely lots of fun, Sharrock knows when to freeze the frivolity and give Shakespeare’s language centre-stage.

We are swept along by a carnival of lust, action, poetry and music: entertained by two sparring lovers, entranced by a shepherd’s philosophising and unexpectedly stopped in our tracks by a painful and delicate song. This is by no means a perfect play but it has all the ingredients of a masterpiece – it feels like Shakespeare is experimenting with new shades here, mixing base comedy and profound philosophy one minute, fresh wit and pure fantasy the next.

The actors seem comfortable in their skin (no mean feat considering almost everyone cross-dresses) and carve out their own natural rhythms and distinct performing styles. Dominic Rowan plays the court jester Touchstone as a particularly exuberant Stephen Fry, glibly undermining the sillier characters with a sharp quip or taunting jig. Tim McMullan’s Jacques holds the play together and his roaming, cynical observations inject some sorrow into this festival of love. McMullan wraps his tongue languorously around the seven ages of man speech, spitting out his disgust with life, Shakespeare’s elegant sentences dripping in despair.

Nothing in this tricky, changeable play is ignored and everything Shakespeare chucks in - no matter how obscure it might feel - is gulped down gratefully by this resourceful director. Every moment is made to matter, from the musicians’ first entrance through to the final jig that closes the show. So often a throwaway moment at the Globe, Sharrock makes sure the jig complements the play rather than just dismissing it.  We even get Rosalind’s cheeky post-jig epilogue, in which she entreats the audience’s applause. No prompt is necessary and those who aren’t already standing rise to their feet for this rich and satisfying show.

Till 10 October 2009