By C.C. Humphreys, based on his novel. Directed by Christopher Gaze. A Bard on the Beach production. At the Howard Family Stage in Vanier Park on Sunday, July 12. Continues until September 19

Shakespeare’s Rebel is very busily going somewhere. But where?

The main character in C.C. Humphreys’s new play, which he based on his novel, is a fictional figure named John Lawley, who was once the fight director for William Shakespeare’s theatre company. Because of his binge drinking, Lawley has been kicked out of the troupe and his love, Tess, has become engaged to a fat fop named Sir Samuel D’Esparr. Tess and Lawley have an out-of-wedlock adolescent son named Ned, who wants to be an actor. He also wants a more reliable dad.

Plots and subplots abound. Actor Richard Burbage urges Lawley to pressure his pal Shakespeare not to write Hamlet. Elizabeth I commands Lawley to ensure that her moody lover, Robert Devereux, heads off to suppress the Irish rebellion with appropriate enthusiasm. The Queen’s adviser, Sir Robert Cecil, leans on Lawley to kill Devereux. And Sarah, the Queen’s lady-in-waiting, spies for both Cecil and Her Majesty, and alternates between pumping Lawley for information and striking deals with him.

But what is all of this machinery in aid of? What is Shakespeare’s Rebel about? It’s hard to tell. Late in its second half, the play seems to declare that it’s about Lawley’s friendship with the charismatic but “melancholic”—read “bipolar”—Devereux. “It is hard to love somebody who treats us so badly, is it not?” Elizabeth asks Lawley. But the swordsman’s affection for Devereux hasn’t been credibly established: he doesn’t follow the general to Ireland out of love; he goes because he has been forced. And although it’s dramatic, a scene in which Lawley toys with killing Devereux is similarly difficult to credit.

The script’s use of Tess skews the focus further. The possibility of a reunion with his one true love is held up as Lawley’s big prize. But Tess is peripheral to the central story about political machinations, so the play’s resolution is beside the point, and has more to do with Lawley’s luck than with his actions.

It’s interesting to note that the Elizabeth/Devereux subplot, which is simpler, clearer, and more sustained, delivers the evening’s most solid emotional payoff. I’m not giving anything away here: Devereux led a rebellion against Elizabeth and she had him beheaded. In Shakespeare’s Rebel, Elizabeth’s grief is deeply moving.

Both the script and production have other problems. The act break comes too late, and so does Cecil’s explanation of his hatred for Devereux. Marshall McMahen’s disappointing set consists of a small thrust stage and an enormous undefined playing area, an expanse of blank floor that does nothing to focus the action.

Still, Shakespeare’s Rebel, both the play and this interpretation, also feature considerable accomplishments. Humphreys keeps his story moving in dynamic, swiftly overlapping scenes. And his use of language, an almost seamlessly modernized Elizabethan style of speech, is impressive.

Under the direction of Bard’s artistic director Christopher Gaze, the acting company looks strong. Benedict Campbell’s Lawley is lively and engaged. And John Murphy makes such a mercurial, charismatic Devereux that he is arguably the star of the show. Colleen Wheeler, who is playing the Queen, has put on the red wig a million times before—notably in Elizabeth Rex at Bard two years ago—but she continues to be brave here, and fresh. Robert Klein is a suitably smart and sinister Cecil. And if Jennifer Lines, who plays Tess, could distill her charm into perfume, she’d be a millionaire.

Bard’s two main-stage productions this summer, King Lear and The Comedy of Errors, have set the bar low, so it might sound like faint praise, but, despite its flaws, Shakespeare’s Rebel is more engaging than either of them.