The mechanics of myth: John Leader on the revived Tristan & Yseult

When Emma Rice first staged Tristan & Yseult against the open-air stone ruins of Restormel Castle in 2003, it laid the template for an aesthetic that would influence British ensemble theatre for more than a decade. Developed with Kneehigh from a script by Anna Maria Murphy and Carl Grose, the production favoured raw timber, folk music, and an unabashedly Cornish theatricality: a show that set high tragedy alongside seaside silliness.

Now, nearly a decade after its last staging, the piece has returned to the road. Co-produced by the Emma Rice Company, York Theatre Royal, and Nottingham Playhouse, the tour opened at Theatre Royal Bath ahead of dates across the UK—including Edinburgh’s Royal Lyceum from 20 to 24 October—and a November residency at St Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn.

Taking on the central role of the doomed lover is John Leader. Performing opposite Nandi Bhebhe’s Yseult, Leader inherits a part encrusted with company folklore and the affectionate memories of long-time theatregoers.

‘A huge amount, actually,’ said Leader, when asked how much room exists to build his own interpretation. ‘Obviously there’s a responsibility that comes with stepping into something that has such a rich history and a show that holds so many memories for audiences, but Emma has been amazing as ever at encouraging us to find our version of the show.’

Rather than treating the text as a museum piece, Leader anchors his performance in the emotional mechanics of the present.

‘For me, the exciting thing has been finding out who Tristan is now, both to me and from me,’ said Leader. ‘The story is ancient, but the emotions are completely recognisable. Love, jealousy, lust, grief, joy… none of those things have changed.’

The approach requires looking past past casts and leaning on instinct.

‘So I’ve tried not to think too much about previous Tristans and instead find him through my own instincts and through the relationships with the amazingly talented cast I get to play with on stage each night!’ said Leader.

‘For me, the exciting thing has been finding out who Tristan is now, both to me and from me,’ said Leader. ‘The story is ancient, but the emotions are completely recognisable...’

Savage duress and life on the road

Those relationships are forged under what could only be called physical duress. A veteran of demanding ensemble productions—including the National Theatre’s War Horse and Rice’s own adaptation of Wuthering Heights—Leader is clear-eyed about the nightly toll of the staging.

‘It’s pretty savage! In the best possible way,’ said Leader. ‘There’s very little time to hide in this show. Everyone is constantly moving, singing, dancing, fighting, playing instruments, telling stories…and then hopefully falling madly in love somewhere in the middle of all that.’

Yet there is a distinct athletic satisfaction in the collective effort.

‘My body definitely knows I’ve done a show by the end of the night, but I absolutely love that aspect of it,’ said Leader. ‘The show asks you to go on a journey with it both emotionally and physically, and by the end it’s like crossing the finish line of a race. And with this show, you do it all as a team, as an ensemble, which is really exciting!’

**Nandi Bhebhe (Yseult) & John Leader (Tristan) – credit Steve Tanner**

That physical exertion is compounded by the practical realities of life on the road. For Leader, who has spent recent seasons on large-budget screen sets including The Sandman and Britannia, returning to a multi-month theatrical tour means trading domestic routine for itinerancy.

‘I think it’s probably my daughter, Willow. Does she count as a home comfort?’ said Leader, when asked what he misses most while living out of a suitcase. ‘Touring is amazing, and I love the life that comes with it, but there’s definitely something about being away for weeks at a time that makes me miss the day-to-day stuff with her.’

Those everyday rituals offer a steadying counterweight to the operatic scale of the stage.

‘Reading her a bedtime story, having breakfast together, picking her up from school and getting all the updates from her day on the drive home… I just really love those moments,’ said Leader. ‘There’s something so lovely about the ordinary stuff. It’s not necessarily the big days or big adventures; it’s just being together, hearing what she’s been up to, making each other laugh and being part of her day-to-day world. Those are probably the bits of home I miss most when I’m away.’

Mutual trust and the comic tightrope

If domestic life provides an anchor, the stage demands complete emotional exposure. At the core of that nightly marathon sits the romance between Tristan and Yseult—a dynamic that relies less on ethereal chemistry than on established, practical trust. Leader and Bhebhe brought years of shared working history into the rehearsal room.

‘A lot of trust, really,’ said Leader. ‘Nandi is extraordinary, and I’ve been lucky enough to work with her multiple times before, so there was already a really lovely connection and familiarity between us.’

That familiarity allows for an easy shorthand when tackling raw material.

‘She’s one of those actors who makes you want to play,’ said Leader. ‘She’s incredibly generous, instinctive and deeply present, which makes working with her feel very easy. You can throw something at her and she’ll give you something brilliant back, and that kind of trust is really valuable when you’re doing a show as physically and emotionally open as this.’

It also leaves room for levity amid the tragedy.

‘There’s obviously a lot of intimacy in the show, but having worked together before & bringing a deep friendship to the space, there’s a real comfort there,’ said Leader. ‘We know each other’s rhythms, we know how the other person works, and I think that’s made this experience really special. And she’s just a joy! There’s been a lot of laughing alongside all the romance and heartbreak, which I think is probably exactly how it should be!’

That coexistence of laughter and devastation is quintessential Rice. Populated by eccentric misfits and a pair of Love Spotters scanning the stalls through binoculars, Tristan & Yseult treats absurdity not as a distraction from the tragedy, but as its primary amplifier.

‘I think that’s one of the things I love most about Emma’s work,’ said Leader. ‘She’s never frightened of putting something completely ridiculous next to something deeply moving. The comedy actually makes the tragedy hit harder for me. You’re allowed to have fun with these characters and then suddenly you’re reminded just how enormous the stakes are. Love can be completely ridiculous and completely devastating at exactly the same time.’

The balance, he argues, depends on absolute conviction.

‘The Love Spotters are a perfect example,’ said Leader. ‘They could be seen as such comedic roles, but they’re watching this great real love story unfold in front of them. You can’t play the comedy as though you’re doing a comedy. You have to believe everything that’s happening. If we believe it, hopefully the audience can laugh at the absurdity and then, five minutes later, be completely heartbroken.’

Translating that dynamic from coastal amphitheatres like Cornwall’s Minack to traditional proscenium houses requires a direct, uncomplicated dialogue with the auditorium.

‘I think that’s one of the things I love most about Emma’s work,’ said Leader. ‘She’s never frightened of putting something completely ridiculous next to something deeply moving.‘

‘With Emma it’s really clear that the audience is another member of the company,’ said Leader. ‘That sounds a bit artsy, but it really is how it feels. We’re not performing at them; we’re inviting them into the world with us. So even when you’re in a traditional theatre, you can still break down that invisible wall and make the room feel like it’s part of the story.’

In practice, it means surrendering the tempo of the evening to the personality of each house the show wanders into:

‘Every venue and audience has their own personality as well,’ said Leader. ‘The show changes slightly depending on the room and the people in it, which I love. There are moments where you can feel the audience thinking, “Are we actually being asked to do this?” And then they realise they are, and they dive in! It’s about keeping that sense of play and making the audience feel like they’ve come on the journey with us rather than simply sitting and watching it.’

Featured Image: John Leader – Tristan