Book of Will opens in a pub and regular hangout for John, Henry, Alice and Richard, all close friends of William Shakespeare. They reminisce, fondly and somewhat somberly. How profoundly their lives coalesced. Rebecca is married to John, Elizabeth to Henry. Both cheerfully long-suffering and spirited. This lovely cluster of friends, wedded to the theatre, are always frank and forthcoming. Tact is a mystery they have yet to solve.
When one of them is taken by sudden death, they galvanize their resolve to collect Will’s prodigious oeuvre. It turns out that his plays and sonnets have (more or less) scattered to the four winds. It’s a grueling, exhausting task. But our heroes are struck by the urgency of salvaging their friend’s vivid, resonant, implacable shows. His scripts took them to realms beyond imagining. Actor and audience alike were overcome by epiphanies. Epiphanies we all know, but hadn’t heard spoken aloud before. Deeply understood but never evoked.
There was a time when only two books could be found in British homes. One was the King James Bible. The other was The Collected Works of Shakespeare. When I was five, my Grandpa would often teach me adages like: “Neither a borrower, nor a lender be,” or “A penny saved is a penny earned.” It wasn’t until much later, I realized he was quoting Hamlet. And how often since, do people quote Shakespeare without knowing it?
Language is a living construct that absorbs the reason and articulation of culture as it evolves. In much the same way, Lauren Gunderson enacts the steps that suffused Shakespeare’s cunning from one person to the next. We see how lines found their way into everyday conversation. Swimming through the river where we all drink. She demonstrates the transformative power of his diction. No one was immune. Gunderson elevates a miracle we take for granted to its true splendor.
I was overcome Chris Berthelot’s direction. His deft arrangement of elements. The agile and intuitive performers. Their poise and commitment. Their animated dialogue and saucy demeanor. Eric Levy’s Richard Burbage is jejeune, and personable. Robert Dullnig’s sardonic, resigned, Ben Johnson tickled the audience without mercy. Janae Hatchett’s convivial Alice Heminges navigates the tavern with confident aplomb. Robert San Juan’s Henry Condell is brash and versatile. Ivy Updykes’s Rebecca Heminges is smart, gentle and accommodating, Gena Graham’s Elizabeth Condell, sensual and good humored.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Anthony Magee’s turn in Book of Will. His authenticity, dedication to the actual, depth of empathy with John Heminges is rare and overwhelming. We see John in all his gentle tenderness, his weariness, his pique. His unbearable despair.
Do yourself a favor. Bear witness to this touching, buoyant, stirring production. Don’t miss ACT’s Book of Will!
Allen Contemporary Theatre presents Book of Will playing (Fridays and Saturdays) October 2nd-18th, 2026. 1210 East main Street, #300, Allen, Texas 75002. pr@allencontemporarytheatre.net