Richard II

While Richard III has been done 21 times on Broadway, Richard II has been done only seven, most recently in 1957. (Source: ibdb.com) It is certainly less interesting. Richard III is a grand villain, smart, full of anger, violent, and terribly sorry for himself--yet able to scrounge up a bit of charm when it suits his needs. Richard II, while more poetic in language, is bland, self-involved, and petulant. Both men believe in the divine right of kings because, hey, they're the kings. While Richard III is arguably evil, Richard II is stupid, which is considerably less interesting. His downfall is triggered by shallow self-interest. 

Michael Urie
Photo: Carol Rosegg

As with all of the history plays (and many of the Greek and Roman tragedies as well), the stories are supposed to possess gravitas because the main characters are royal. But, really, does being born into a particular family at a particular time make the characters more significant? Nah. And using the word hubris instead of the phrase blind, selfish stupidity doesn't ultimately disguise the fact that Richard II, Oedipus, King Lear, etc al, display, well, blind selfish stupidity.

Here's a way to reveal the actual pathetic humanness of these characters: picture Donald Trump instead. He was born into a particular family; he and his followers believe he was chosen by a god; and he has more power that Oedipus, Lear, and both Richards put together. But his story is not tragedy; it's the saddest and most horrifying of farces. 

Photo: Carol Rosegg

The Red Bull production of Richard II was adapted and directed by Craig Baldwin and stars Michael Urie. I am a fan of Red Bull and have enjoyed/been impressed by many of their "rethinkings" of classics. The excellent all-female Mac Beth in particular comes to mind. Richard II, however, is considerably less successful.

Moving the show to the 1980s adds little other than an excuse to use the song "Sweet Dreams" and some cool costumes by Rodrigo Muñoz. Richard's overt bisexuality-leaning-toward-gayness is fine, but the frequency of sexualized scenes diminishes whatever gravitas the character might have. Parts of the show almost read as anti-gay: look at the shallow, trivial gay guy who prefers the affairs of the body to the affairs of state. 

According to some theories, the end of Richard II gives Richard the chance to redeem himself by showing dignity as he is stripped of his crown. That isn't the case in this production. I kept waiting for one of the other characters to slap him and say, get over your damn self.

By moving the story to the 1980s, by sexualizing the character so much, by removing the period trappings, Baldwin has taken away any grandeur Richard might have had. Sort of like replacing King Lear with Donald Trump.

Much of the staging is attractive; much of the acting is top-notch; the depiction of a duel as a contemporary boxing match, complete with hyperenthusiastic emcee, works perfectly. But the adaptation and direction undercut the play's strengths and emphasize its weaknesses. 

Wendy Caster

Hamlet (Toronto)

For an English major who only took one course on Shakespeare, I have very strong ideas about Hamlet. Usually these keep me from enjoying any production because the director's choices will inevitably fail to line up with my expectations.

I thought the same would happen when I attended Tarragon Theatre's 2018 production. Instead, I found myself captivated by a minimalist production of Hamlet set to live music.

Richard Rose and Thomas Ryder Payne's Hamlet begins as soon as the lights go down. There is no context, no preamble or pre-show speech, but suddenly the lights change. The light blasts at the audience through an opaque fog, two characters appear, and it begins.

Throughout the play, sound and lighting creates another character--the atmosphere of Denmark. With the set of a rock concert, only a few feet were left at the front of the stage for the playing space. But as the actors move between making the music behind the play and stepping into the playing space, it never feels like a limit. Or at least, it feels like one that makes sense in the "prison" of Denmark.

Hamlet ensemble. Photo by Cylla von Tiedemann

The rock and roll setting leans into Hamlet's teenage angst. Hamlet (Noah Reid) wears a hole-y hoodie the entire time and the cast passes microphones back and forth, a la Spring Awakening. Leaning into this, instead of away from it, focuses the production on the big dramatic gestures and the lyric images woven into all of Hamlet's language instead of the psychological motivations of each character.

The Winter's Tale

The Public Theater's Mobile Unit is presenting a highly entertaining, streamlined version of The Winter's Tale through December 17. It's a lovely evening in the theater, if not quite Shakespeare's version of the play; I suspect Shakespeare would enjoy it. And it's free! (For more info, click here.)

The Winter's Tale is considered a "problem play" due to its sometimes bizarre combination of fevered jealousy, dead family members, merry shepherds, low comedy, and romance. The Mobile Unit chooses to focus mostly on the fun, although Justin Cunningham's depiction of Leontes, a man gone crazy with jealousy, is deeply upsetting, as it must be. The rest of cast is also impressive, full of energy, acting talent, and beautiful singing voices. They are Christopher Ryan Grant (wonderfully silly as the old shephard), Nina Grollman, Nicholas Hoge, Patrena Murray, Chris Myers, Sathya Sridharan, Ayana Workman, and Stacey Yen.

The Winter's Tale is smoothly directed by Lee Sunday Evans, with great imagination and humor.

Catch it if you can--free Shakespeare, well-done, is a beautiful thing.

Wendy Caster
(free ticket; first row)

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.

The Winter's Tale

The Winter's Tale is my personal favorite of Shakespeare's plays. It's also one of the hardest to stage well. Neither comedy nor tragedy, it's classified (alongside Cymbeline and The Tempest) as a "romance," that tricky category that often places the most extreme elements of the other two genres side by side. How should a director, or dramaturge, or company handle the tonal switch from Leontes' bombastic dismissal of Hermione to the slapstick humor of Autolycus and the Clown? Do you set a consistent tone early so that the final scene--to my mind, some of the most beautiful writing in the Western canon--is equally devastating and joyful? And just how are you going to handle that old "exit, pursued by a bear" matter? Of the dozen or so productions of The Winter's Tale that I've seen, none has ever hit the sweet spot and gotten it just right.

photo: Richard Termine

I'm sorry to say that the current Off-Broadway revival, presented by The Pearl Theatre Company at The Peter Norton Space, does not buck this trend; in fact, this is one of the most disappointing productions of the underappreciated masterpiece that I've ever seen. Directed by Michael Sexton and featuring numerous members of The Pearl's resident acting company, it often feels like a woeful attempt at cleverness, or an MFA thesis project that went off the rails. Presented (as most of Shakespeare's plays today are) in a two-act structure, the scenes in Sicilia take place in the well-appointed dining room of a contemporary house. The actors more closely resemble the literature faculty of a second-tier liberal arts college than a royal court; Hermione's trial could easily pass for a particularly heated meeting of the tenure and promotion committee. Bohemia, on the other hand, is depicted as a hayseed and trailer-park paradise, where men in long beards wear their jorts with suspenders and the Natty Light flows freely. After the intermission, the actors begin to deconstruct the proceedings; I guess we wouldn't be able to understand what was going on otherwise? Nothing kills a classic faster than a director who thinks his concept is superior to the work to which it's supposedly in service.

The performances range from strong to competent to downright embarrassing. The guest artists easily overshadow the members of the Resident Acting Company. Peter Francis James makes a fine Leontes, and Steve Cuiffo finds the funny in Autolycus' writing without going overboard (a rarity). Imani Jade Powers, though green, makes a lovely and sincere Perdita. No other actors merit specific mention.

[8th row center, press ticket]

Love's Labour's Lost

Love and the fools it makes of us sets the background for The Public Theater’s world premiere of a new musical version of Love’s Labour’s Lost, the second show of The Public’s 2013 free Shakespeare in the Park season at the Delacorte. The 90-minute musical opened yesterday.

The team that created Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, Alex Timbers (director and book adaptation) and Michael Friedman (songs) takes one of Shakespeare’s lesser known plays and remakes it into a story about the rekindling of relationships at a liberal arts college’s reunion, done Vaudevillian style. Besides adding some cleverly fashioned tunes, the team trims down some of Shakespeare’s dialogue while beefing up the women’s roles, creating more nuanced characters. Some of this works well: Jaquenetta, for instance, played by the wonderful Rebecca Naomi Jones (Murder Ballad and American Idiot) appears world-weary and wistful in the knockout ballad, “Love’s a Gun.”

The main story tells of a three-year chastity pledge a group of young men make while pursing intellectual insight. As soon as the King of Navarre (Daniel Breaker) and his three friends – Berowne (Colin Donnell), Longaville (Bryce Pinkham) and Dumaine (Lucas Near-Verbrugghe) grudgingly make their promises, like a madcap bachelorette party, four girls arrive to tempt them: Princess (Patti Murin) and best buds Rosaline (Maria Thayer), Maria (Kimiko Glenn), Katharine (Audrey Lynn Weston).

The addition of music both dilutes Shakespeare’s verse and makes it more accessible. Many of the lyrics appropriate the original prose, and all the songs intimate a wink-wink sense that the audience is in on a joke; as when the boys sing “Young Men” with such foreshadowing lyrics as, “Young men are supposed to be callow and cavalier about things that later they will have to think are important.” The best line of the night references the Public’s free summer theater, itself, with one character musing: “Rich people. They pay for better seats in plays that should be free.”

Love’s Labour’s Lost, both heartfelt and zany, appropriates many musical styles, from Madrigals to doo-whop, and pays homage to popular Broadway shows such as A Chorus Line (with a terrific sneaker tap worthy of Savion Glover) and Grease (in a Shakespearean teen angel number). But the impact of the play’s ending is diminished in exchange for hilarity and over-the-top parlor tricks as an entire marching band plays its way Music Man style on stage (a huge budget expense for a little laugh) and a slinky cat dances amidst the crowd in a random Andrew Lloyd Webber homage.

Sometimes it seems that more surgical cutting might benefit the musical. After all, Love’s Labour’s Lost, like much of Shakespeare’s works, remains a carnival of activity. Besides the ins and outs of five potential relationships, the play balances multiple themes—the flirtation between the frivolity of youth and the responsibility of adulthood, the role knowledge contains in having a well-lived life, the rich versus the poor—and several subplots. Simply some things don’t fit after all the musical numbers are added, such as the periodic appearance of pedantic professors and a bumbling local cop. The sideshow of Holofernes (Rachel Dratch) and Nathaniel (Jeff Hiller) may offer a reason to have the concluding pageant that wraps up the show yet both performers seem so dreadfully underutilized that their removal from the action might benefit the musical. Armado (a deliciously hapless and out-of-his-mind-with-love Caesar Samayoa) could have continued that subplot by himself.

The scenic design by John Lee Beatty exploits the outdoor setting and uses the looming Belvedere Castle as a background university building. Also from the Bloody team is choreographer Danny Mefford, who keeps things high-spirited, the boorish academic Hiller and the multi-tasking Justin Levin (Moth/music director/co-orchestrator).

Ultimately, the trim hour and 40 minute show, with no intermission, provides frolic and fun. Like a summer romance, though, it charms and beguiles without long-term engagement.

Runs through August 18.

As You Like It

Photo: The Queens Company

Extraordinarily well directed by Greg Cicchino, this Queens Players production of Shakespeare's comedy triumphs. While historical opinions on the play have varied, we can safely say, reinforced by the elastic Claire Morrison's animated and expert performance, that Rosalind is one of Shakespeare's most fully realized and interesting female characters. If, as the clown Touchstone lectures, "The truest poetry is the most feigning," it is nonetheless the rhymes carved in the trees by Rosalind's swain, the passionate, lovelorn Orlando (the effective Anthony Martinez), that keep hope burning, not to mention the story. Director Greg Cicchino has a gift for focusing his actors' strengths, and for creating moments of unscripted, silent humor that move the action swiftly along. From his fine cast he draws out a number of standout performances in the smaller roles as well as the leads; indeed, despite the dominance of the Rosalind-Orlando storyline, the production is the very model of a modern ensemble piece. Leave it to Shakespeare, in the loving and crafty hands of a director like Mr. Cicchino, to bring to glorious life the human tapestry in all its poetic good cheer under the rumbling elevated trains of Long Island City. Read the full review.