John Gielgud (1955)

Laurence Olivier and Vivien Leigh were undeniably the stars of this production. The strikingly beautiful Leigh made a charmingly elegant boy. Despite the text’s insistence that Viola remain in boy's apparel at the end of the play, Leigh took the stage at the close in a magnificent gown. Olivier's Malvolio was full of comic invention. In the letter scene, he turned carefully around as he read the word 'revolve', to the terror of his barely concealed eavesdroppers, and then painfully hesitated over the correct pronunciation of that tricky word 'slough'.

Peter Hall (1958)

Geraldine McEwan's very young and coquettishly charming Olivia went against the tradition of casting older actors in the role. The casting of the young actors Dorothy Tutin and Derek Godfrey as Viola and Orsino likewise went against the norm. The Count and Countess's self-indulgences and changeability become more forgivable when seen as the follies of youth. The rich colours and creamy laces of a luxurious Cavalier court provided the setting, in which the ominous figure of Malvolio darkly hinted at the Puritan severities ahead. This production was revived in 1960, with Eric Porter as Malvolio.

John Barton (1969)

Strong performances and simple staging achieved a harmonious complexity of mood in this production, in which Judi Dench played Viola. The production was revived and partly recast in 1972. A bittersweet 'Chekhovian' atmosphere prevailed, where many of the characters were aware of, but unable to remedy, the unfulfilment and futility of their lives. A long bare gallery of lattice work, through which fell patterned shadows, provided the permanent set. The sound of the sea accompanied the opening scene and a similar crashing of waves filled the long silence in the last scene, when Viola and her brother paused before accepting the truth of each other's identity. Donald Sinden's Malvolio, was so overweeningly proud that even the sun was subject to his correction: he moved the sundial in Olivia's garden to ensure that it corresponded with his own watch. Despite such comedy, he still aroused sympathy in his imprisonment: his anguished sobs continued to be audible from under the stage throughout the first few minutes of the next scene.

Peter Gill (1974)

The dominating idea of this production was expresssed by a mural of Narcissus gazing into a pool, painted across the back wall of the bare set. Elizabethan costumes were worn on an almost bare, white stage. The presence in Illyria of Viola and Sebastian enabled some of its narcissists to escape their solipsism. The slender Jane Lapotaire looked convincingly boyish in her disguise. Orsino's ambivalent sexuality expressed itself in his languid caresses and easy, physical intimacy with his new page boy. As Malvolio, Nicol Williamson spoke in haughty tones until the extremity of his sufferings made it impossible for him to control himself and his native Welsh accent broke out.

Terry Hands (1979)

This was one of the few productions to respond to the allusion to Christmas celebrations in the play's title. Pale paper chains were strung between tree branches and a sad little paper crown sat on Sir Andrew's head for his first scene. A melancholy atmosphere marked this production, which began in dark, snowy winter but began to move towards spring after the interval, when daffodils began to peer between the roots of the silvery, attenuated trees. Cheri Lunghi brought an appropriately witty self-awareness and charm to her Viola.

Bill Alexander (1987)

Illyria (historically a Venetian province on the Adriatic) was here taken literally and appeared as a sun-drenched, white-washed village, where the heat and the drone of cicadas helped drive Malvolio mad. Elaborately-patterned Greek costumes, embroidered with gold thread, created a style that could be flowingly romantic and darkly sombre. Harriet Walter's Viola emerged from the sea clutching a bundle from which, as she spoke of her lost brother, she drew out a suit of his clothes; this was the suit in which she next appeared. Antony Sher's Malvolio had been chained like a bear in a circle of blindingly bright light while Feste tormented him. He emerged from his imprisonment at the end of the play a broken man, making it impossible for the audience to be wholly happy at the resolution of the romantic entanglements.

Ian Judge (1994)

Elizabethan costume and the Tudor gables and neatly shaped hedges of Stratford-upon-Avon's streets and gardens provided the setting. Sir Toby came straight from his attendance on Olivia's mourning ritual to utter his first words: "What a plague means my niece to take the death of her brother thus?" Non-textual stage business included Feste's ejection by Maria from Olivia's household at the end of the play and the rescue of Sebastian from the billowing sea in an exact, wordless copy of Viola’s a moment before. In the final scene, Viola, played by Emma Fielding, and Sebastian circled each other cautiously as they edged towards recognition, demonstrating their twinship in identical gestures and postures. Desmond Barrit's stout Malvolio burst exuberantly out of his sober, black gown into the lascivious extravagance of yellow stockings.

Lindsay Posner (2001)

This was a late-nineteenth-century Illyria of beautiful, stylish suits and gowns. Zoe Waites, as Viola, made a believably swaggering boy whose effect on Matilda Ziegler's Olivia outlasted even the revelation of her true sex. Although Olivia did pair off with Sebastian, as the play demands, it was not before she had exchanged a passionate kiss with her husband’s sister, who is, of course, still in male attire. Mark Hadfield's Feste resembled Buster Keaton and had a measure of that great clown's melancholy charm and deft physical grace.

Michael Boyd (2005)

From the painted backdrop, a giant pair of blue eyes watched as the action unfolded. At the end of the first scene, the piano and onstage musicians' music stands flew up to hang above the stage for most of the production. At the same time, Viola and the sea captain flew in, or rather, swam down from above. In obedience to the letter's instructions, Richard Cordery's imposingly large Malvolio appeared in glorious yellow but, in this modern-dress production, his yellow stockings took the form of skin-tight biking leathers, very similar to the yellow tracksuit worn by Quentin Tarantino's vengeful heroine in his film, Kill Bill. Feste, played by Forbes Masson, was in love with Maria, and she had no qualms in exploiting his weakness when it suited her.

A full list of productions of Twelfth Night (including those omitted in the above list), with full details of cast and production team, can be found in the RSC Performance Database on the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust website.

Written by Rebecca Brown