Review: Cyrano de Bergerac, Noël Coward Theatre ★★★★½

The RSC’s West End transfer gives Rostand’s classic new scrutiny on vulnerability, without losing any of its wit

Most of us think we already know this story. It’s the Gérard Depardieu film, or Steve Martin‘s Roxanne, or one of the dozen other tellings that have borrowed Cyrano’s letters and his balcony scene over the years. What this RSC production offers is a fresh look, one that puts real scrutiny on Cyrano’s vulnerability rather than just his wit. It’s a story that reminds us that people do judge by looks, but also that sometimes we ourselves assume that judgement and limit our own lives because of it. Cyrano, brilliant with a sword and even more brilliant with words, cannot believe himself loveable because of his nose. So when Christian, handsome but tongue-tied, needs help winning Roxane, Cyrano gives him the words. Throughout, we’re rooting for Cyrano even as we understand his desire to support Christian, and his misguided belief that staying quiet is the kindest thing he can do for Roxane.

This is the Royal Shakespeare Company’s production, transferring to the West End after a sold-out run at the Swan Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon, with Adrian Lester and Susannah Fielding reprising their roles as Cyrano and Roxane. Simon Evans directed the play some twenty years ago and has wanted to revisit it ever since; he and Lester first started talking about doing so around eight years back. My husband, watching beside me, thought the direction flawless, and given Evans has had two decades to sit with this play and turn it over in his mind, that tracks.

Review: Cyrano de Bergerac, Noël Coward theatre

Photo credit: Marc Brenner

What struck me most is what Evans and co-adaptor Debris Stevenson have done with the verse. Edmond Rostand‘s original is written in Alexandrine rhyming couplets, twelve syllables to a line, and rather than flatten that out, the co-adaptors have given each character their own set of rules: Christian can’t reach for a Latinate, polysyllabic word, Cyrano can’t lean on a cliché, Roxane breaks her own lines when she’s thinking something through. It’s a genuinely clever piece of craft, and it pays off on stage. Cyrano’s amazing vocabulary is especially well-written, and the new writing brings the sense of verse and a real flair for vocabulary while staying accessible, never showing its working.

Direction and design pull together just as cleverly. Partway through, the set is pulled away as one to reveal the town anew, and it’s one of the most striking transitions of the evening. The blocking is excellent, the pacing right for material that has to hold romance, war and grief all at once, and it never once feels like it’s straining to do so. The whole space is used too, stalls and boxes both, and Grace Smart‘s set and costumes, colourful and suave, fit the sumptuousness of the Noël Coward Theatre itself.

Lester’s Cyrano balances deep vulnerability with brash bravado and astonishingly swift wordplay. He is full of bravado but also deeply unconfident in his looks, and physically and emotionally he takes us past the huge nose to the person underneath it. Fielding’s Roxane is stroppy and cross when needed, not just swooning, which matters for a character who could so easily be reduced to a prize being fought over. And Levi Brown‘s Christian carries a genuine desire for a simple romance; the adaptation gives him an extra layer, he doesn’t believe his simpler ways are inferior even as he’s asking Cyrano for help.

Review: Cyrano de Bergerac, Noël Coward theatre

Photo: Marc Brenner

The swordsmanship and choreography are ambitious and exhilarating, so well performed that you can’t quite believe you’re watching it live. Live music runs through the whole thing too, courtesy of composer Alex Baranowski‘s on-stage band. Cyrano’s band of musicians, woven into the story itself (Cyrano wins them in a bet, as he does in Rostand’s original), is very evocative of the era.

The house was enamoured. This is a feast for the senses and a must see comedy for this summer.

Practical details: the production runs approximately 2 hours 45 minutes to 2 hours 50 minutes including an interval, and is booking at the Noël Coward Theatre until 5 September 2026.

Photo credit: Marc Brenner

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