SOURCE: A review of Twelfth Night in Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 27, No. 1, Winter, 1976, pp. 29-31.

The Twelfth Night directed by David Jones at the Festival Theatre was thoroughly agreeable Shakespeare, lively, full-bodied, and a pleasure to look at. Dressed by Susan Benson in costumes that were near-Renaissance, neither aggressively nor archly period, the production struck a subtle and convincing medium between the sunshine piece that we are told our forefathers relished and the acidulous attempt at black comedy that some modern directors have pursued in producing this play. Leslie Yeo's Sir Toby Belch was jovial enough for a workaday Lord of Misrule. His bluster, his belches, his pranks, and his slap-and-tickle with Maria were his continuing lifestyle, but the strength of his animosity toward Malvolio betrayed a sourness of spirit, a sense of self-waste. A sort of pinched, incomplete Falstaff, he was a forgiveable man, more easily liked by...