Twelfth Night, or What You Will

It's easier to enjoy Twelfth Night, or What You Will, the inaugural production at the newly redone Delacorte, if you accept that it's not exactly Twelfth Night. The show is lively, funny, a fabulous night at the theatre, but it mostly lacks emotional resonance and meaning. Twelfth Night Lite, if you will.

I have two opposing, completely honest reviews. Review one is how I felt sitting in the theatre. I was happy, laughing, loving the cool faux-autumn air, and feeling so grateful to watch such a starry cast. (Peter Dinklage! Sandra Oh! Daphne Rubin-Vega! Jesse Tyler Ferguson! Et cetera!) Review two is how I felt when I was telling my sister about the show the next day. Although I said a lot of positive things, she said, "I feel a but coming on." And the but was this: on reflection, the production felt like nothing. It's definitely a problem when the curtain call is one of the best parts of the show.

[spoiler]

The one moment that lands as fully developed and true-to-the-play is the reunion of the twins, each of whom thought the other was dead. Played by actual siblings Lupita Nyong'o and Junior Nyong'o, the twins are dressed and coifed identically, underlining their strong resemblance. They're both fine actors, and the scene would have worked with less resemblance, but the similarity adds an extra level of truth. 

What really makes this scene so strong, however, is that the reunion is spoken entirely in Swahili. They're not just finding each other; they're finding themselves, their language, their home. It is deeply moving, particularly in the context of the shallowness of the rest of the production. 

[end of spoiler]

It feels churlish to complain about a solid, star-filled, laugh-filled evening at the Delacorte. I truly had fun. But I was hoping to see Twelfth Night, not Twelfth Night Lite.

Wendy Caster

Much Ado About Nothing

This isn't exactly a review because I wasn't able to see the whole show. But here are some thoughts based on what I saw.

• The rhythms of African-American casual conversation fit beautifully with Shakespeare's rhythms. In fact, particularly from Danielle Brooks, it was some of the most real-sounding Shakespearean dialogue I have ever heard. A real treat.
• Seeing theatre at the Delacorte in Central Park is always lovely. We had an almost full moon and beautiful weather.
• The Claudio-Hero subplot is ugly, ugly, ugly. The fairly young, fairly multiculti audience certainly thought so. When Hero's dad says that, if she's not a virgin, better she be dead, the audience gasped.
• I theoretically like the idea of having Dogberry played by a woman, But Lateefah Holder comes across as extremely smart and competent so she has to fight against type to play the role.
• Director Kenny Leon plays with making Much Ado political but doesn't really do much with the idea.
• While the choreography by Camille A. Brown and the singing were great fun, they slowed down the show.

I think this will be my last Much Ado, at least for a few years. I've seen many productions, going back to the incredibly charming Sam Waterson-Kathleen Widdows version in the '70s, and over time the Claudio-Hero subplot has come to overpower the Beatrice-Benedick main plot. 

You gotta wonder what centuries of literature would have focused on if writers had simply realized that a woman having sex is not a sin or an awful thing or necessarily that big a deal. Poof! There go thousands of pages by Wharton and Tolstoy and Flaubert and Zola and and and. 

Oh well.

Wendy Caster

(row N, free ticket)

Cymbeline

Photo: Carol Rosegg

There really is no such thing as a bad night at the Delacorte Theater, the venue nestled inside Central Park where The Public Theater has offered free Shakespeare (and Sondheim, and Chekhov, and Brecht, etc) for over 50 years. But this past Saturday was a night to beat the band. The weather was ideal: neither too warm nor too cold, with just enough breeze to stave off sweaty discomfort. The sun was still high at the beginning of the performance, but it gradually faded into a perfect rouge sunset, before settling into a clear, dark night. There was minimal air traffic going on in the sky above the stage. The audience was appreciative and exhibited good theatrical manners -- not always a given in this particular theater, where eating and drinking is not only allowed but encouraged, and the staff seems to let people wander in and out as they please. Yes, everything about Saturday night at Shakespeare in the Park was perfect ... except the production.