By William Shakespeare. Directed by Dean Paul Gibson. A Bard on the Beach production. In the main tent in Vanier Park on Saturday, June 16. Continues until September 22

Director Dean Paul Gibson's Romeo and Juliet is heavy on alienated violence and light on delirious romance. As the audience enters, several surfaces on the set have already been pierced with swords and daggers. When the show begins, members of the ensemble shout the prologue as if they're soldiers rallying before war. It's exciting for a bit, but it doesn't hold, largely because the love story is missing.

Design elements contribute to the production's undoing. At Gibson's bidding, Mara Gottler delivers costumes that are contemporary and almost all black-and-white. The only justification I can imagine is that the extreme contrast is meant to mirror the unnuanced world-views of the Montagues and Capulets. The overall look is lifeless, though, and at odds with the brown colour and antique, arched feel of Kevin McAllister's set. Visually, the world of this interpretation is placeless.

The real problem, though, is that too little of the text makes emotional sense. I simply never bought Taylor Trowbridge's Juliet. Her performance isn't terrible, but it often feels coy and it always lacks the necessary depth. On opening night, Kyle Rideout's Romeo started off mechanically. His characterization cracked open later on–the desperate speech he delivered when Friar Laurence tells Romeo he is banished was moving–but the love train had already left the station by then and the romantic narrative didn't recover. Several actors–including Rideout–resort too often to volume to indicate emotional intensity.

The production's flawed core is surrounded by several extraordinary portraits, however. Bob Frazer makes more sense of Mercutio's wild speeches than any actor I've seen. Mercutio's bitterness with love, his sexual rage, and his desire to die have never been so clear. And Lois Anderson offers a wonderfully original Nurse, turning emotional corners on two wheels, veering from fury to affection.

I also particularly enjoyed the restrained and moving contributions of Duncan Fraser and Colleen Wheeler as Lord and Lady Capulet.

Annoyingly, sound designers Alessandro Juliani and Meg Roe tell the audience what to feel–giving us little bursts of piano music every time R and J kiss, for instance. It feels manipulative and mechanical. Too much of this production feels like a cold machine.