Following from his acclaimed but polarizing Imogen, Matthew Dunster returns to the Globe with a Much Ado About Nothing set in revolutionary Mexico. Vibrant and romantic, Dunster’s Much Ado remains faithful to the ‘merry war’ of Beatrice (Beatriz Romilly) and Benedick (Matthew Needham). Yet it still manages to reimagine one of Shakespeare’s favourite comedies. Don Pedro’s illegitimate brother Don John is transformed to Juana, played by Jo Dockery, making the role of women a central question in this wistful, zesty, and thoughtful production.

The Globe stage is transformed into a steam cargo train with sliding doors, a perfect setting for the hilarious eavesdropping scenes with Beatrice and Benedick. Anna Fleischle’s design evokes an endless terrain: a ramp from the stage leads down into the crowd where in the centre a lone fire pit lights Dockery’s Juana, as she meditates on her destiny as a villain. With one column a make-shift mosaic altar and the band sitting on top of the train, this ‘desperate kingdom of love’ is one of settled impermanence.

Peripheral to the high-spirited confusion is a sense of violence and war, as the opening sequence displays an injured rebel lifted into the train. Most characters have a good shot with a pistol, knocking off tin cans on top of the train. Perhaps the usage of Mexican stereotypes go overboard (tequila and sombreros are all over the place), but placing this comedy in early 20th century Mexico is not just a gimmick; such a backdrop intensifies the action onstage, and makes fully real a world of tumultuous, and even dangerous, relationships.

Romilly and Needham as Beatrice and Benedick are like firecrackers, brutally but deliciously mean to each other, the kind of spitfire that’s only allocated to lovers. Needham is a brilliantly headstrong buffoon, charming and restless, while Romilly is quick and spirited. Anya Chalotra as Hero is also captivating, using her voice to both sing a beautiful lullaby and tragically wail at her wedding.

The second half is stronger, as the slanderous allegations create real rifts amongst characters. Ewan Wardrop as an American filmmaker, Dog Berry, provides the comedic relief, playing the character's endless malapropisms as broken Spanish.

Accompanied by an evocative score by James Maloney and offering up some outstanding performances (along with some outstanding horse puppetry), Much Ado is a celebratory and perceptive production. Smart but still joyful, it creates a new landscape to reflect on both the comedy and the tragedy of this Shakespeare play.