‘Romeo + Juliet’ Theater Review: Kit Connor and Rachel Zegler Shake up Shakespeare With Brat-Coded Attitude

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, which I guess must include the one embroidered on the black mesh singlet worn by Kit Connor. Sam Gold‘s Gen Z Romeo + Juliet revival can be chaotic and undisciplined, but it’s also breathless and swoony, angry and violent, tender and sexy AF. Ready to attest to that was the mob of young women and queer kids in my audience who let out a squeal of excitement when Connor took a flying leap into a chin-up to kiss co-star Rachel Zegler on a bed suspended above the stage. This is not your grandmother’s balcony scene, but it’s disarming.

The picture that greets theatergoers upon entering is a bunch of uncommonly youthful actors clad in neon colors and slouchy denim and Hello Kitty backpacks, draped across each other with what seems like pansexual abandon. The overturned shopping cart spilling out plush pastel teddy bears, the neo-club-kid garb and the thumping techno music of the rave intro — not to mention the blunt tagline, “The Youth Are Fucked” — portend a gimmicky take on a romantic tragedy that dates back four centuries and counting.

But Shakespeare’s greatest plays are timeless, lending themselves to endless relocations both historical and contemporary. As wild as it is, aggressively courting the TikTok generation, Gold’s revival fully commits to its concept and sustains it surprisingly well. Traditionalists might shudder at the way some of the verse is delivered, but if you’re willing to take it on its own terms, this R+J is an infectious emotional rollercoaster. And a hot shirtless Apothecary is something you don’t find at CVS.

Aside from Connor’s Romeo and Zegler’s Juliet, there’s little sense of Gold coaxing his ensemble — almost all of them double-cast, often in cross-gender roles — to burrow deep into their characters. But maybe part of the point is that these actors are pouring themselves into the parts to reflect today’s reality, in which young adults are faced with a world pushed by older generations toward irreconcilable divisions and borderline destruction — a world in which just holding onto hope is a challenge.

The production appears to be less interested in a faithful retelling of Shakespeare than one that connects the story, with metatheatrical immediacy, to audiences around the protagonists’ age. That aspect is borne out by the sea of teenage and early-20s faces in the packed houses during previews, not to mention the crowds rushing the stage door as soon as the actors take their bows. Anything that gets kids to the theater is a win, and if they’re experiencing a somewhat filtered version of Shakespeare’s wit and poetry, at least it’s their version.

Factors like social media and reality TV have given many from the production’s target generation a desire for protagonism — to be part of what’s happening rather than passive observers. Staging R+J in the round (in the same space where Gold directed his trenchant revival of An Enemy of the People earlier this year) draws the audience in close to the action, even more so when the actors frequently fan out into the aisles.

Sets by the design collective Dots are minimal, though the imaginative idea for Juliet’s balcony and bedroom works superbly; a reveal when the stage floor opens up to uncover a field of flowers is enchanting; and lighting designer Isabella Byrd’s dramatic crucifix — intersecting rows of large headlamps — brings appropriate solemnity to the Capulet family crypt.

The first thing that registers as the leads, both of them barely into their 20s, emerge from the huddle is their youth. Zegler, the discovery of Steven Spielberg’s West Side Story remake, in which she played a different incarnation of Juliet, is so petite she easily passes for a teenager. Connor, who sprang to fame as the rugby-playing hunk that surprises a gay classmate by reciprocating his feelings on Netflix’s Heartstopper, is a strapping lad. But the operative word is “lad.”

The last Broadway revival of Romeo and Juliet was a fast flop in which the principals, Orlando Bloom and Condola Rashad, were 36 and 27, respectively. The difference in age this time around makes the characters seem instantly more vulnerable, feeding our anxiety over what we know will be their tragic fates.

One significant enhancement to this production is original music played by Sarah Goldstone on synth keyboard and written by Grammy magnet Jack Antonoff, who has shaped hits for Taylor Swift, Lorde, St. Vincent, Lana Del Rey, Florence + the Machine, Sia, Carly Rae Jepsen and Kendrick Lamar, among many others.

Whether you think the songs add much will depend, like everything else here, on the degree to which you submit to the revival’s giddy spirit. They include “Whiplash,” a party anthem for the Capulets’ masked ball; “Best Lie,” in which vain Count Paris (Gían Pérez), who vapes and wears a pink “Gift from God” T-shirt, demonstrates his shallowness; and “Man of the House,” a pretty ballad gorgeously sung by Zegler, in which Juliet articulates her love for Romeo: “How does it feel to be God? / I’m in the palm of your hand.” This is later reprised by Romeo, putting their emotional surrender on equal footing.

Sola Fadiran plays both of Juliet’s parents, shifting with erratic clarity between Capulet (a generous host early on, then a fiery patriarch laying down the law as his daughter’s transgression becomes known) and Lady Capulet (a fluttery wedding planner, then a grief-stricken mother).

While Verona’s feuding families are equal in nobility (“Two households, both alike in dignity”), the excision of Romeo’s parents reduces the Montagues to a handful of scrappy adolescents. Intentionally or not, that introduces a class element to the two clans’ long-running mutual hatred, further suggested by Connor’s use of an unfancy South London accent.

The production runs a fairly standard two hours and 25 minutes with intermission. But from the moment Romeo and his horny bros Mercutio (Gabby Beans) and Benvolio (Taheen Modak) crash the Capulet bash, the action unfolds at an accelerated pace.

Romeo and Juliet solidify their love at first sight in the balcony scene and then, after their secret marriage, when her doting Nurse (Tommy Dorfman) arranges an assignation. Enraged by the Montague boys’ insolence in entering the Capulet palazzo, Juliet’s puffed-up cousin Tybalt (also Dorfman) slays Mercutio in a fight and Romeo avenges his friend by killing Tybalt. (The brawls are especially bloody here, though in an earlier skirmish, two male fighters from opposing sides amusingly pause for a heated lip-lock mid-fight.)

With Romeo banished from Verona, Juliet enlists the help of Friar Laurence (Beans again). In a desperate plan to thwart her parents’ obstructions and reunite with her husband, she agrees to fake her own death with a sleeping potion, which all goes horribly wrong in the family tomb.

That famous closing scene benefits from Byrd’s sepulchral lighting and Antonoff’s underscoring, though I can’t say I found it as affecting as this play can be. (For a more shattering version that honors the lyrical beauty of the language, track down the outstanding PBS filmed production with Josh O’Connor and Jessie Buckley.)

The standout of this cast is Connor, who invests Romeo with such innocence, impetuousness, romantic ecstasy and lacerating sorrow he breaks your heart. Zegler doesn’t quite match her co-star’s passion, but she finds a poignant middle ground between Juliet’s unrestrained ardor and her level-headedness. She’s not as heedless as intoxicated Romeo, and seemingly more aware of what they’re up against — which makes her unbroken resolve, even after the death of Tybalt and her father’s threat to disown her, quite moving.

Elsewhere in the ensemble, the invaluable Beans is such a sparky delight as Mercutio that his early exit leaves an absence; Dorfman’s Nurse is funny and fiercely protective; and Modak brings such depth of feeling to Benvolio that you wish he had more to do. (The latter doubles as the shady Apothecary, who gets a huge laugh when he slices open a giant teddy to retrieve his stash of lethal poisons.)