Shakespeare on the Common 2025 Review: As You Like It Brings Boston Together in a Joyful Summer Tradition

The sun dipped low over Boston Common, casting a golden glow across the grass and turning the leaves a soft, honeyed green. The day’s heat clung to the air, though a faint evening breeze wound its way between the elm trees and across the open lawn. Slowly, the park filled with people — theatre lovers and casual passersby alike — all drawn toward the stage where Shakespeare’s As You Like It would soon unfold.

In the hour before the performance, the Common had the feel of a festival. Friends shared snacks from tote bags, couples sipped iced coffee, and families wrangled children into place on picnic blankets. A group of college students, dressed in breezy summer clothes, played cards while waiting for the show to start. A man in a Red Sox cap adjusted his folding chair, aiming for the best sightline to the stage. Some in the audience clearly knew the play by heart, their well-thumbed scripts resting on their knees. Others had arrived on a whim, curious to see what free outdoor theatre in the heart of the city could offer.

From my seat near the stage, the view was exquisite. The stage itself, nestled against the backdrop of Boston’s skyline, was dressed in a clever, flexible set design that hinted at both court and forest. Its arches, platforms, and greenery suggested that this was a world where politics and nature would meet, tangle, and transform.

As You Like It, one of Shakespeare’s most beloved comedies, tells the story of Rosalind, her cousin Celia, and a host of lovers, fools, and exiles navigating questions of identity, freedom, and love. It’s a tale of mistaken identities, pastoral escapes, and the transformations that happen when we step away from the rigid order of court life into the playful, unpredictable world of the forest.

From the moment the actors took the stage, the energy was palpable. Rosalind’s first entrance was met with eager applause, and her voice rang out with warmth and clarity, instantly winning the crowd. Celia matched her with quick wit and charm, their banter both intimate and razor-sharp. Orlando, the young hero, arrived with a mix of youthful bravado and vulnerability that made his later romantic fumblings all the more endearing.

One of the joys of Shakespeare on the Common is the way the city itself becomes part of the performance. As characters fled to the Forest of Arden, the rustle of leaves in the actual Boston Common trees became a natural soundtrack. In one of the play’s quieter moments, a faint siren in the distance and the laughter of children on the periphery blended into the scene, reminding us that this wasn’t an isolated theatre — this was a living, breathing corner of the city, layered with real life.

The Commonwealth Shakespeare Company’s production brought color and movement to every moment. Costumes were a feast for the eyes: jewel-toned gowns that shimmered under the stage lights, textured vests and tunics that seemed to carry the dust of the forest, playful hats and accessories that hinted at the characters’ personalities. The lighting shifted seamlessly from the warm golds of the court to the cool, verdant hues of the forest, deepening the contrast between the two worlds.

And then there was the comedy — delivered with a freshness that made centuries-old jokes land like new. Touchstone, the court jester, was a whirlwind of physical humor and sly wordplay, his asides drawing belly laughs from the crowd. Jaques, the melancholy philosopher, brought a slower rhythm and a reflective tone, particularly in the famous “All the world’s a stage” speech. Here, the actor’s delivery was deliberate, almost conversational, pulling the audience into a shared moment of quiet recognition before the pace picked up again.

Throughout the night, the actors’ timing was impeccable. Pauses landed just long enough to let the humor or emotion sink in, and scene transitions flowed like music. The ensemble cast worked as a true unit, every member bringing specificity and life to their role, whether delivering a pivotal monologue or silently reacting at the edge of the stage.

As the story moved deeper into the forest, the play’s themes came into sharper focus. Disguise and transformation were everywhere — in gender-swapped roles, in characters finding courage they didn’t know they had, in love blooming in unexpected places. Watching under the open sky, it was impossible not to think about the ways we, too, are shaped by the spaces we inhabit. The Forest of Arden became more than just a setting; it became a metaphor for the freedom to explore who we are without the pressures of our everyday “courts.”

The audience responded with warmth and attentiveness. They laughed in unison at the play’s more outrageous moments — Orlando’s lovesick poetry, Touchstone’s verbal gymnastics — and leaned forward during its tender scenes. Children, usually restless after sunset, sat surprisingly still, eyes fixed on the action. Older couples exchanged knowing smiles at Shakespeare’s reflections on love and time.

In the final act, as disguises were dropped and truths revealed, the stage pulsed with joy. Music swelled, characters embraced, and the world of the play shifted from confusion to harmony. It was the kind of ending that leaves you lighter than you were when you arrived — a reminder that, at least in comedy, we can choose resolution, unity, and joy.

But what struck me most was how As You Like It felt in 2025. In an era marked by constant motion, digital overload, and the narrowing of public spaces, this night in the Common was a reminder of the power of gathering in person, without screens, for a shared artistic experience. Here, strangers sat shoulder to shoulder, reacting together in real time. The play’s invitation to step into another world, to play with identity, to find love in unlikely places — it felt more than relevant. It felt necessary.

There’s a generosity to Shakespeare on the Common that can’t be overstated. Free theatre, professionally staged, offered in the heart of the city — it says something about what Boston values. It says art belongs to everyone. It says stories from four centuries ago still have something to teach us. And it says that sometimes, the best stage isn’t behind closed doors, but right here under the shifting sky.

As the cast took their bows, the applause was thunderous. People stood, clapped, and cheered, some whistling, others simply smiling in a way that seemed to say, “Yes. This mattered.” The actors waved, the lights dimmed, and slowly, the audience began to drift back into the city night.

Walking away from the stage, I glanced back one last time. The set stood empty but still alive with the echoes of voices, the shimmer of costumes, the ripple of laughter. Around me, people were already discussing their favorite moments, quoting lines, and making plans to return for another performance before the run ended.

I carried with me not just the story of Rosalind, Orlando, Celia, and the others, but the memory of how it felt to be part of that crowd — to share in the rhythm of live performance, to watch actors give everything they had to a sea of strangers, to feel the connection that only art can forge.

🎭 Highlights Reel (Video)

To the Commonwealth Shakespeare Company: thank you for bringing As You Like It to life with such heart, humor, and craft. Boston is lucky to have this tradition, and I am grateful to have been there — not just as an audience member, but as part of a living, breathing celebration of theatre.

Learn more or support the production at commshakes.org.

Under the open sky, on the grass of the Common, with the city lights just beyond the trees, Shakespeare’s words felt as fresh and urgent as if they’d been written yesterday. And perhaps that’s the magic: in the right hands, under the right sky, the past and present meet — and for a few hours, we are all players in the same story.