Shakespeare in the Park Review—“Romeo and Juliet” at the Delacorte Theater

Romeo and Juliet

Written by William Shakespeare; Spanish translations by Alfredo Michel Modenessi

Choreography by Mayte Natalio; directed by Saheem Ali

Performances through June 28, 2026

Delacorte Theater, Central Park, New York City

publictheater.org

Ra’Mya Latiah Aikens in Romeo and Juliet (photo: Joan Marcus)

At the Delacorte Theater every summer, the play’s usually not the thing. Instead, Shakespeare is often secondary to the busyness onstage, as director Saheem Ali’s Romeo and Juliet vividly demonstrates. In Ali’s staging, Verona, Italy, is now Nueva Verona, a bilingual town on the U.S.-Mexico border where the Capulets and the Montagues live and where a wall has been built on which protestors from the Montague clan spray paint anti-ICE slogans (the Capulets are pro-ICE, natch).

Against this artificially heightened backdrop, the doomed romance of our star-cross’d lovers is rather uneventful, even trivial. The director must also sense this, since he has also rather desperately added a portentous trio of masked spectres who represent death as they hover about the denizens and gravestones strewn about Maruti Evans’ spooky cemetery set. (Also hovering, somewhat more pretentiously, are outsized statutes of what looks to be Jesus’ mother Mary as well as a skeleton behind the large onstage wall.)

Ali’s direction can’t overcome the inherent contradiction of stuffing extraneous bits into the play yet not trusting those additions enough to embrace a true reimagining. Some of the text is spoken in (unsubtitled) Spanish, which may be authentic to the changed setting and the unbridgeable chasm between the two families—the lower-class Montagues speak it, the upper-class Capulets don’t—but having the two lovers speak Shakespeare’s most elevated love language in another language erases the original poetry’s beauty.

Juliet’s nurse is played by the capable Dierdre O’Connell as an unwanted mugging in the park, which Ali surely was after—so is the audience, which hoots and hollers at her every raised eyebrow. There are a few performers, like Francis Jue (Lawrence), Caleb Joshua Eberhardt (Mercutio) and Lachanze (who gets to sing as Lady Capulet), who are better at balancing the overacting that Delacorte audiences respond to with slightly more nuance. 

This bloodless Romeo and Juliet comes to intermittent life through the chemistry of the leads. Daniel Bravo Hernández is a dashing Romeo and Ra’Mya Latiah Aikens believably makes Juliet a giggling teen and a maturing young woman. Both also speak fluent Spanish (in Alfredo Michel Modenessi’s translation) so they can often convey Shakespeare’s emotions without subtitles—but even they are defeated by Ali’s lazy direction of the famous balcony scene, the most forgettable I’ve yet seen. 

As so often at the Delacorte, what’s most memorable is not from Shakespeare: Oana Botez’ dazzling costumes, especially in the pivotal ball sequence; Christopher Akerlind’s canny lighting; and Mayte Natalio’s energetic choreography. But the messy ending, in which the two grieving families agree to drop their long-standing differences (even though the wall still sits imposingly behind them), makes little sense in this context. That may be why each Delacorte performance ends with a real-life wedding led by Jue, who is an ordained officiant of the Universal Life Church: witnessing an actual celebration of marriage might help audiences forget that Shakespeare’s teenage newlyweds die onstage.