“I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.”
—Oberon, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, William Shakespeare
Shakespeare’s plays weren’t originally conceived as hushed, elite experiences. They were popular entertainment performed before socially mixed audiences. That’s why The Foodbank Players’ current production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in historic Chochenyo Park amid gnarled old trees—with people picnicking, children watching, and curious pedestrians strolling past—arguably brings Shakespeare closer to that communal spirit than a conventional theater does.
[1]And if you’ve ever thought Shakespeare isn’t your thing, Midsummer is a great choice. There’s no need for historical or political background—or even to understand every line—to follow what’s happening or find it funny. Young Athenians fall in love with the wrong people. Parents and society interfere. Friends become rivals. Feelings run high. Then Shakespeare throws the lovers into a forest inhabited by mercurial fae, where the fairy king Oberon enlists the trickster Puck to meddle with their love lives. Hilarity ensues.
“Lord, what fools these mortals be!” — Puck
Midsummer often hinges on Puck and Bottom, who anchor the play’s two contrasting worlds: supernatural and human. Polina Litvak, making her Foodbank Players debut as Puck, is delightfully mischievous, cavorting and somersaulting across the lawn while connecting directly with the audience. She shares her cheeky delight in using a magic flower to induce Lysander to instantly abandon his girlfriend Hermia in favor of Helena. If you’ve ever made a fool of yourself over a crush, you can see the appeal of blaming an impish sprite.
Zach Simon is comical as Nick Bottom, the leading light of the Rude Mechanicals, a buffoonish troupe of amateur actors performing a play within the play. Simon employs physical comedy and a hilarious blend of William Shatner and Keanu Reeves in his delivery to convey Bottom’s boundless ego and self-importance.
Darrah Jones and Mary Boyd-Ferrell shine as Oberon and his queen, Titania. Their charisma and chemistry, along with the wild dancing of their retinue that precedes their confrontation over an orphan boy, capture the shift from the strict order of Athens to the passion, freedom, and abandon of the forest.
“The course of true love never did run smooth.” — Lysander
Isabel Sullivan, Justin Nilson, Kelsey Goeres, and Scott Dai are an engaging quartet as the lovers Hermia, Lysander, Helena, and Demetrius. Their rapport supports something new for The Foodbank Players: greater intimacy than the company usually portrays. Helena, for instance, tries to seduce Demetrius by starting to undress him before passionately kissing him, while Lysander and Demetrius accidentally kiss when Helena evades their pursuit.
“Intimacy is an integral part of the story,” says director Cory Kahane. “These are young people struggling with the messiness of love, jealousy, etc., and that’s before the magic flower gets involved.”
[2]Kahane said the actors jointly choreographed these moments during rehearsals, using guidelines from an intimacy-coordination booklet. The physicality feels right in the forest, where Athens’ strict rules governing courtship have been delightfully turned upside down.
“Take pains. Be perfect.” — Nick Bottom
Rounding out the cast are Foodbank Players veterans Don Martin as the rational and authoritative Duke Theseus and Jennifer Morrill as his bride, Hippolyta, the conquered queen of the Amazons. Morrill brings a sympathetic presence to Hippolyta in her response to the young lovers.
Gene Kahane is strong as Egeus, Hermia’s controlling father. Katie Simon, Kate Rockwell, Fran Kahane, Caitlin Kenney, and Sally Geary form a wonderfully goofy ensemble as Bottom’s fellow Mechanicals—Peter Quince, Snug, Tom Snout, Francis Flute, and Robin Starveling—while Alison Sun ably does triple duty as Moth, Philostrate, and Fairy Scout. Kristina Morales, Joy Morrill, and Max Chang are whimsical as Titania’s attendants Mustardseed, Peaseblossom, and Cobweb.
One of Kahane’s challenges was forming seasoned actors and relative newcomers into a cohesive ensemble. Trained as an actor, Kahane had directed smaller projects, but Midsummer marks his first time directing a full-length play for adults.
Before each rehearsal, Kahane had the cast form a circle and answer a question of the day, ranging from a favorite magical creature to an embarrassing story or something they were grateful for, an icebreaker to build connection. Drawing on his acting background, Kahane also coached cast members to develop their characters’ objectives and clarify their connections to Shakespeare’s text.
“Our true intent is all for your delight.” — Peter Quince
Kahane’s efforts to make Midsummer accessible to a modern audience extend beyond physical comedy and intimacy. He approaches Shakespeare not as a museum piece whose every word must be preserved, but as living theater that must connect with the people watching it today.
That approach owes much to Kahane’s late friend Lavina Jadhwani, a director, writer and advocate to whom this production is dedicated. “Among many things, she taught me to ‘treat Shakespeare like they’re new plays and treat new plays like they’re Shakespeare,’” Kahane said.
[3]Following Jadhwani’s “field guide [4]” for dismantling linguistic racism in Shakespeare, Kahane removed racialized language he considered unnecessary to the story, including metaphors associating whiteness with moral purity. Such imagery may have been commonplace in Shakespeare’s England, he said, but can alienate contemporary audiences—particularly in a place as racially diverse as the Bay Area—without contributing anything essential to the story.
Elsewhere, Kahane was willing to add rather than subtract. His rule of thumb was to leave dramatic scenes largely untouched while allowing a “tasteful amount” of modern language into the comedy, where small contemporary additions could convey a scene’s spirit without replacing Shakespeare.
One of the funniest updates comes courtesy of the Mechanicals, who at one point pull out their phones and ask them when the moon will shine. When their phones keep providing comically wrong information, Tom Snout finally pulls out a paper almanac to look up the information, as the scene was originally written. The gag gets a laugh as an anachronism, but Kahane intended another layer.
“The Mechanicals asking their phones in vain about ‘moonshine’ was a very conscious dig at AI and the growing over-reliance on technology,” he said. With data centers being discussed for Alameda Point [5], Kahane hopes local audiences will recognize something of their own world in the joke.
It’s a small moment, but one that illustrates the larger philosophy behind the production: the goal isn’t to make Shakespeare sound as though he were writing in modern times, but to make a 400-year-old comedy land with an audience living in 2026.
“Give me your hands, if we be friends.” — Puck
The Foodbank Players’ production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream brings together place, community, accessibility, and philanthropy: local actors performing one of Shakespeare’s most playful works in a historic park amid birdsong and the rustling of leaves, asking for nothing at the gate, and turning whatever generosity follows into support for neighbors in need.
[6]Performances continue on September 12, 13, 19, 20, 26, and 27 at 4 p.m. Bring lawn chairs or blankets and feel free to pack a picnic to enjoy before or during the show. Admission is free, with donations gratefully accepted to support the Alameda Food Bank [7].
Contributing writer Karin K. Jensen covers City Council and book reviews for the Alameda Post [8]. Contact her via [email protected] [9]. Her writing is collected at https://linktr.ee/karinkjensen [10] and https://alamedapost.com/Karin-K-Jensen [11].