Summary
This play imagines clandestine meetings between the established playwright Christopher Marlowe and the upstart William Shakespeare, who have been commissioned to collaborate on a new history play. As they write, their creative process devolves into a dangerous game of seduction, rivalry, and political intrigue, forcing them to question whether they are allies, lovers, or spies in a treacherous police state.
Friday, September 19, 2025 at 7:30 PM Sep 19, 2025, 7:30 PM
I think I was too sleepy to appreciate this, so grain of salt. I dug the premise of “Born with Teeth” and came in feeling buzzy about it: clandestine meetings between Will Shakespeare and Kit Marlowe to write “Henry VI,” but sprinkle in some political intrigue and make it sexy. And I loved Ncuti Gatwa in “Earnest” earlier this year. But this wasn’t a favorite.
I’m not sure how well this is supported in the text, but my general sensation is that Marlowe, as played by Gatwa, comes in too hot in a way that neither serves the central relationship nor the historical context. (Maybe he just can’t help but ooze sexuality?) He’s practically flinging himself at Shakespeare off the jump—and the poster sets expectations there too—even as we have this slowly foregrounded story about how homosexuality is criminal and dangerous and—yeah. It feels like a little pacing might establish the stakes a bit better. And for my money, that lack of buildup also made it kind of unsexy, but I concede others may feel differently there. Gosh, he can jump, though.
Edward Bluemel, playing Shakespeare, was solid. Timid, but asserts himself. This is set in the early part of his career, so that’s appropriate. He has a couple of awkward line reads of (deliberately) anachronistic modern dialogue—I really can’t remember exactly which lines, sorry—that popped out at me as very distinctly, like: “Oh, is the playwright American? That didn’t sound right coming out of his mouth.” (Liz Duffy Adams is American, fact check.)
I’d like to read the text of this one and understand better how much the sex is being pumped up by the production. They made other decisions I was lukewarm about—staticky TV projection in between scenes, harsh music, a symbolic array of bright lights behind the stage that occasionally gets cranked up to blind you—there’s a coherent vision but I wonder if it wouldn’t be better as an intimate little off-West End two-hander.