Two sets of twins separated at birth are unknowingly reunited. They get mistaken for each other before it's all sorted out.
People who should see this show:
Everyone. People who grumble when directors "do things to Shakespeare" (i.e. my hubby) will grumble a lot, then grudgingly admit they enjoyed it anyway. People who don't usually like Shakespeare will find it accessible.
David Mackay's Comedy of Errors is fun. The story is fun, the production is fun, the acting is fun. The thing is, it's a comedy, with an unbelievable storyline and generally broad characters who do unbelievable things. But the audience buys into it anyway. Because it's fun.
It is filled with self-referential gags: In the middle of the second half, a vendor sells "rats on a stick" calling to mind how different an experience Shakespeare was in Shakespearean times (the audience had the option of buying tomatoes from vendors to throw at performers); an actor mimes talking on a cell phone, which is, I suppose, the contemporary interruption analogous to the bustle and chatter my English teachers told me was going on in the Globe. But these gags are intelligent, and, I found, useful. There was never a chance for my mind to wander during lulls of sing-song acting -- I was constantly snapped to attention, and therefore never missed an important plot element in a somewhat confusing play -- and, grumble though he may, neither did hubby.
The design is also self-referential: a puppet theatre, Queen Elizabeth as Solinus, sound effects ranging from trumpets to demonic laughter. This is a production for people who are interested in the history of English theatre, but does not exclude those who aren't in the know. Consider the levels in one sight gag:
Solinus, duke of Ephesus is played by Christopher Gaze in Queen Elizabeth I's iconic dress.
Funny to people who aren't in the know: an old guy in a dress.
Nod to historical accuracy: Female parts were played by men in dresses in Elizabethan England
Contemporary commentary on this gender role: It's a male part being played by a man in a dress
A reminder of the political context of the time of writing: Elizabeth was ruler of England, and did not hesitate to order death when it suited her politically, as Solinus will do if Egeon can't pay his fine.
Further nod to historical accuracy: Elizabeth, reigning queen of England, referred to herself as "prince"
In-joke: Solinus, the duke who dispenses justice, is played by the artistic director of Bard on the Beach
There are more layers -- I thought of another but forgot it, and I'm sure there are more in-jokes that I'm not privy to, more contemporary or historical commentary that I'm not up on. Do I feel smart for having understood all of these layers at once? Absolutely. Would I have enjoyed it if I hadn't? Absolutely. And this is one sight gag that occurs at the very beginning and end of the play -- there are more, each one as thoughtful -- if I didn't think I'd bore you all to tears I would write about them all.
See the show. You'll like it even if you don't want to. Plays until September 26
Some highlights:
Colleen Wheeler's Adriana: perfect
Shawn Macdonald's Dromio of Ephesus: very well done
Kevin MacDonald's Antipholus of Syracuse: well acted, and part of a brilliant comic duo
Christopher Gaze's Solinus: an enjoyable camio
Bob Frazer's Antipholus of Ephesus: the only truly repugnant character in the show, Frazer actually made him sort of likeable
Ryan Beil's Dromio of Syracuse: the other half of a brilliant comic duo, and just as funny as a solo act
Jennifer Lines' Luciana: funny sidekickery at its best
Amber Lewis' Courtesan: brings life to a small role -- outstanding
No comments:
Post a Comment