Shakespeare goes eco in a playful al fresco take

There is no getting around the fact that As You Like It is a deeply weird play; a man mourns a dead stag, and inexplicable disguises abound – as do indecipherable jokes about pancakes and mustard.

So Max Webster’s spirited production embraces the craziness and presents a new age eco-comedy with the inhabitants of the Forest of Arden adhering to some sort of hippy-dippy notion of permaculture.

Webster sets his stall out early as the play opens with a rendition of The Rain it Raineth Every Day (actually from Twelfth Night).

This forest is not the twee Edenic paradise of yore, but a working landscape offering both feast and famine.

Naomi Dawson’s design is one of sustainable ranches and oil drums filled with flowers. Corin the shepherd fishes out Coke cans from an ecologically dead lake.

If this sounds unspeakably worthy, fear not. This As You Like It fizzes with playfulness and lascivious intent – and the performers all seem as frolicsome as wood nymphs.

Olivia Vinall’s Rosalind and Keziah Joseph’s Celia start out as silly Sloaney ponies, embarking on their Arden exile like two girls wondering how to fill their gap year before Exeter.

But Vinall, in particular, shows real mettle in her performance, with Rosalind (or rather the disguised Ganymede) going native and revealing strength in her devotion to snaring the banished Orlando (Edward Hogg refusing to be outshone in what can sometimes feel like a rather inconsistent part).

“Let me be judge of how deep I am in love,” she commands at one point.

I loved the lubriciousness of Danny Kirrane’s clown Touchstone, too, playing him as a sort of priapic Northern comic who has swapped a ruffled shirt for a padded puffa jacket and has a propensity for belting out contemporary schmaltz from the Magic FM playlist.

I thought Maureen Beattie’s Jaques to be a bit of a sepulchral pub bore at first, but her studied melancholia fits well with the play’s more serious message of forgiveness and reconciliation.

Of the supporting players, I was particularly taken with Joanne Mcguinness’s tough, punchy Phebe – refusing the advances of the dopey Silvius and dumping his over-sized teddy bear (a token of his esteem) into the lake. Cue audible gasps from the audience, who seemed far less upset by the play’s darker happenings.

The music (from indie folk band Noah and the Whale) is unmemorable, but at least fits well within Webster’s carefully planned aesthetic.

Indeed, I have seen far more conventional As You Like Its which have failed to make much sense of this strange and intriguing play.

It’s to the credit of everyone involved that the ultimate effect approaches some sort of cohesion. Until July 28. Book now at tickets. telegraph.co.uk or call 0844 871 2118