Cymbeline

Photo/Paul Kolnik

Ever wonder what a Shakespearean opera would look like? Well, Marc Lamos's cavernous production of Cymbeline has the visual feel of a modernist composition, all green-columned trees and ornate, clockwork landings, and it's tonally minimal at all, with very few actors rising above the general feeling of deja vu this play evokes (Iacomo could be Iago, Imogen's empotioned "death" could just as well be a more mature Juliet's). Short of the play's own failings -- the first act, for instance, is filled with familiar innuendos and comic twists whereas the second is all epic sword fights and visitations from spirits like Jupiter -- only Martha Plimpton, as Imogen, seems to be in complete control, channeling a little of playful Helena from Midsummer and a little of her tragic turn in Coast of Utopia, though she's well met by a very funny Adam Dannheisser as the incompetent Lord Cloten. However, much of the play feels like a waste of talent: Phylicia Rashad is talked about more than seen (as the Queen), and Richard Topol and Daniel Breaker, who introduce the play rather nicely, do little else.

[Also blogged by: Patrick]