When Daniel Monks steps onto the Barbican stage as Malvolio in the Royal Shakespeare Company‘s new production of Twelfth Night, he’s not just taking on one of Shakespeare’s most complex comic roles – he’s also helping to reshape who gets to be seen at the center of classical theater. The Australian-born, London-based actor, filmmaker, and disability advocate has been steadily building a reputation for fearless, emotionally precise performances. Now, in this high-profile staging of Shakespeare’s gender-bending comedy, Monks brings his distinctive presence to a play preoccupied with identity, desire, and social status, offering a fresh perspective on a character audiences thought they already knew.
Exploring Daniel Monks portrayal of Malvolio and the subversive heart of Twelfth Night
For Monks, the yellow-stockinged steward is less a comic grotesque than a tragic mirror of Illyria’s cruelty. He leans into Malvolio’s precision – the clipped consonants, the immaculate posture, the obsessive tidiness – and then lets those surfaces fracture as desire begins to seep through. Rather than playing him as a priggish punchline,Monks treats the character as a man whose queerness and class anxiety are meticulously camouflaged until the cruel joke of the forged letter forces them into the open. The result is a performance that feels both sharply funny and quietly harrowing, a reminder that behind the ruffs and farce lies a person whose humiliation is not easily laughed off.
That tension sits at the core of this production’s most radical choices, with Monks’ performance acting as a kind of diagnostic tool for the play’s moral temperature. Director and actor work together to foreground the power dynamics that make Malvolio such an easy target, drawing out themes that feel acutely contemporary:
- Desire as transgression – love is weaponised against those who don’t fit the social script.
- Public ridicule – mockery is staged as a form of social control, not harmless fun.
- Queer visibility – coded longing is given bolder, riskier expression.
| Aspect | Monks’ Approach |
|---|---|
| Physicality | Rigid, then unravelled |
| Comedy | Dry, edged with pain |
| Romance | Yearning, never safe |
| Politics | Class and queerness entwined |
How Barbican staging choices reframe disability representation in classical theatre
Rather of concealing Daniel Monks’ disability, the Barbican production weaves it into the fabric of the story, allowing audiences to question who gets to occupy centre stage in Shakespeare. Director-led choices in blocking and costume design subtly subvert the idea of “neutral” bodies: Monks’ physicality informs the rhythm of scenes, the pace of entrances, and even the power dynamics between characters. In this staging, the rehearsal room becomes a laboratory where access tools double as dramaturgical tools – a ramp is not just an accommodation, but a deliberate scenic line; a pause for repositioning becomes a charged beat of tension or vulnerability. By refusing to smooth over difference, the production turns the body of the actor into a site of narrative meaning rather than a problem to be worked around.
The result is a visual language that both challenges and educates, inviting audiences to reconsider what “authentic” performance looks like in classical theatre. Design and direction choices highlight how disability can coexist with comedy, romance and melancholy without being reduced to inspiration porn or tragedy. For instance:
- Blocking underscores status shifts, with other characters adjusting to Monks’ movement patterns rather than the reverse.
- Lighting cues draw focus to moments where physical limitation becomes emotional leverage or wit.
- Costume details frame the body as stylish and charismatic, not medicalised or concealed.
| Staging Element | Customary Use | Barbican Reframing |
|---|---|---|
| Set architecture | Neutral backdrop | Built-in access as visual motif |
| Character movement | Invisible norm | Visible, narrative texture |
| Comic beats | Wordplay only | Physicality as source of wit |
Inside the rehearsal room craft collaboration and text work behind the production
Monks describes the rehearsal room as “a laboratory with a heartbeat,” where every beat of Shakespeare’s language is tested against lived experience.The process began around a long table, pages annotated with coloured tabs and margins crowded with questions: Who is this line really for? What secret sits underneath this joke? Under the director’s guidance, the company broke the text down into playable actions rather than poetic relics, mapping out shifts in power and desire scene by scene. A shared “language map” was built on the studio wall, highlighting recurring images of the sea, disguise and change, allowing the cast to spot patterns that might otherwise slip past in iambic pentameter. This meticulous textual archaeology fed directly into blocking, so that a single word could justify a step closer, a glance away or a shared, dangerous silence.
- Daily vocal labs explored rhythm, breath and musicality of the verse.
- Character clinics paired actors to interrogate relationships line by line.
- Improvisation bursts tested scenes without text to uncover subtext.
- Access-led adjustments ensured movement and timing worked with Monks’ body, not around it.
| Session | Focus | Outcome |
|---|---|---|
| Morning Warm-Up | Voice & Verse | Shared rhythm |
| Midday Workshop | Scene Dissection | Sharper stakes |
| Afternoon Run | Blocking & Flow | Physical clarity |
| Evening Notes | Detail & Nuance | Refined beats |
Collaboration inside the room was intentionally non-hierarchical, with designers, dramaturgs and access consultants invited into early runs rather than late previews. Costume sketches were pinned up beside textual notes, inviting Monks and his castmates to see how fabrics, colour and silhouette might echo the emotional states they were discovering.Movement calls frequently began with a dramaturgical provocation-“What happens if disguise feels heavier than truth?”-leading to physical scores that sharpened the comedy while exposing its melancholy undercurrent. For Monks, the most radical element was the space made for his voice in shaping the world of the play: his lived experience informed not just how his character moved, but how the company understood vulnerability, resilience and the politics of who gets to speak in Shakespeare.
Recommendations for audiences on what to watch for and how to engage with this Twelfth Night
Look first for the small rebellions rather than the big punchlines. This production leans into the play’s fluid identities,so pay attention to how a glance,a hesitation,or the way a character chooses a seat can tell you as much as a monologue. Seek out the spaces between scenes: who’s left standing, who exits last, who listens at the edge of the light. That’s where Daniel Monks and the company smuggle in the most intimate storytelling about power, desire and belonging. When the comedy turns darker, resist the urge to look away; the production invites you to recognise the cost of every joke. Let the music, the costume shifts and the evolving physical distance between characters guide your reading of who feels safe, who is exposed, and who is deciding to rewrite the rules of Illyria in real time.
- Watch closely: track how Monks’ physicality changes as disguise becomes self-finding.
- Lean into complicity: notice when you find Malvolio funny,and when the laughter curdles.
- Listen for dissonance: the sound design frequently enough contradicts what characters claim to feel.
- Stay after the punchline: look at faces once the laughter dies; the emotional truth usually arrives late.
- Engage beyond the curtain: bring questions, not certainty, to any post-show Q&A or social discussion.
| Where to Focus | How to Engage |
|---|---|
| Moments of silence | Read them as loud as the jokes |
| Shifts in costume | Ask what each change risks or reveals |
| Ensemble reactions | Follow the story happening at the edges |
| Gender play | Question your own assumptions in real time |
The Way Forward
As Monks prepares to take the Barbican stage, his performance in Twelfth Night looks set to be more than just another Shakespeare revival. It reflects a broader shift in British theatre towards casting that challenges assumptions and opens classic texts to new perspectives.
Whether audiences come for the play’s romantic entanglements, its comic set pieces, or its timeless language, they will also encounter a Viola shaped by an actor whose lived experience undeniably informs his craft.In a landscape where representation and reinterpretation remain central to the conversation, Daniel Monks’s turn in Twelfth Night stands as a reminder that the classics are not static relics, but living works-renewed each time an artist brings something unexpected, and unapologetically personal, to the role.
