Whirligig of Time -- Perception and Reality in Twelfth Night

Review of Portland Actors Ensemble’s Twelfth Night (11 August 2012)

I had a hard time starting this review of Portland Actors Ensemble’s Twelfth Night. On the one hand, I absolutely adored the production. “Beautiful” was the word I used the most when describing it to friends. But I find that I run out of adjectives very quickly with a play like this: It’s brilliant: the costumes are stunning, the music sensational, the sets lovely, the timing perfect, all the characters amazing, and every performance inspired. I loved it, and can think of very little that could be improved. So I feel like I don’t have a whole lot to say.

On the other hand, the play has produced deep thoughts in me… and I’ve been tempted to wax philosophical. But that opens up a Pandora’s Box of ideas that have less to do with this particular production. So I have too much to say… and that too much is not quite to the point.

But… this is theatre. And the purpose of theatre is communication. And communication is worthless if it doesn’t communicate Ideas. Shakespeare’s plays – even the comedies – are not just plots and characters and settings, but vehicles for Ideas. And if a particular production (this one, for instance) can spark these big Ideas in a viewer, then it has done its job and done it well. So, really, the philosophy isn’t so much off topic after all.

A friend overheard another audience member say, “Isn’t it amazing how they make it feel so contemporary and modern?” I laugh, not because whoever said this was off base, but because they were so spot-on. But here’s the thing: It’s not this production. Sure, director Avital Shira had her stellar (ooh! There’s another superlative adjective!) cast deliver the lines with a fresh, modern feel. But the reason it works so well is that the characters that Shakespeare created are as much at home in the 21^st century as they were in the 17^th. People haven’t changed. Guys were melodramatic, lovelorn idiots then (Orsino), and they are now. Girls were apt to fall quick and hard for someone at the least provocation (Olivia), and they are now. There will always be self-important, pig-headed jerks in positions of authority (Malvolio), and we will always rejoice when they get their comeuppance.

Twelfth Night works so well because we all know the characters from our own lives. How many long conversations have I had with my Orsino guy friends, so blinded by what they want that they can’t see what they could have? How many times have I, myself, been Olivia – wanting the unattainable and acting like a complete idiot in an effort to attain it?

No one escapes censure in Twelfth Night. And that’s what makes it work so well. It’s a play about contrasts – wisdom and folly, men and women, perception and reality – but mostly perception and reality. We all have a preferred version of reality… the way we’d like things to be. And it’s this perception that blinds us to the way things actually are.

In true Shakespearean tradition, the only person who really knows what’s what in the play is Feste, the fool, played charmingly in this production by Carson Cook. Cook made it obvious that he knew exactly what was going on – that “Cesario” is really a girl; that Orsino’s love for Olivia isn’t going to last; that Olivia’s mourning for her brother is more of an excuse (though perhaps not a conscious one) to be moody than true, deep-seated grief.

Of course, Shakespeare’s device (making the “fool” the wise one) brings up the contrast between wisdom and folly, and reminds us that when we think we are wise, that’s when we’re the most foolish. This comes out in practically every character in Twelfth Night to some extent or another, but most in Malvolio (played by Arthur Delaney). Malvolio’s perception is that everyone loves him (despite much evidence to the contrary), and this makes him particularly susceptible to the practical jokes played on him by Maria (Jennifer Elkington), Sir Toby Belch (Will Steele), Sir Andrew Ague-Cheek (Max Maller) and Feste. Once again, in true Shakespearean tradition, the villain is hoist by his own petard, and when the whirligig of time brings in his revenges, we may feel a little sorry for the “madly-used Malvolio,” but we recognize that he brought it upon himself. Delaney did a particularly good job throughout of making Malvolio so obnoxious that I, like Maria, could “hardly forbear hurling things at him,” and that made the ending more palatable.

I could go on in this philosophical bent, but I don’t want to try your patience. So I’ll end with a few notes about this production.

Zach Virden made an awesome Orsino. And Britt Harris did a lovely job as Viola / Cesario. The two of them have some delightfully awkward moments as the relationship between master and confidant threatens to turn into something else. In fact, the entire play is filled with wonderful awkwardness – which is, I suppose, one of the chief reasons a girl dressed as a guy worked so well in so many Shakespeare plays.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the beautiful music written by Amir Shirazi and very well performed by the entire cast. Bravo.

For those of you who are wondering about appropriateness and such, just know that at one point Olivia comes out wrapped in a sheet (a very long, very opaque sheet… but still… it implies… you know). I understand how they came to that interpretation, though I don’t think it’s strictly necessary. Also the “intermission music” is a slightly risqué drinking song. Those are my only real concerns… and by comparison to the rest of the show, they are very small.

Bravo to the entire cast and crew for an outstanding job and one of my favorite productions all year! And thanks for making me think! 


This production runs through Labor Day weekend. Visit www.portlandactors.org for dates and locations.

One Year

One year ago today I started this blog with a collection of haiku summarizing Shakespeare plays. Wow. That seems like forever ago. And just yesterday I passed the 2,000 visits mark... which may not seem like all that much, but to someone who was just looking for a place to chronicle her obsession with Shakespeare, it's kind of amazing.

This has been a fun adventure, and I fully intend to keep going. Not only does it help me think through the productions I see, but it also gives me a place to vent my thoughts that just won't go away. I've thought some (for me) Deep Literary Thoughts (the Robin Hood post, the Shakespeare Birthday post, the One Reason I Love Shakespeare post) and had quite a bit of fun with the Bard, too. Interestingly enough, the Horrible Histories and Shakespearean Insults post is the most popular of all time. Who knew?

So, that's about all for now. Thanks for stopping by! Drop me a note. I love hearing from fellow Shakespeare Nerds.

~Katie

Not Much Ado

Review of Willamette Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing (4 August 2012)

When Claudio asks Benedick what he thinks of Hero, Benedick replies, “Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her” (1.1.167-172). In other words… she just doesn’t do it for me.

 

And that was exactly how I felt about Willamette Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. It’s hard to pin down what didn’t work for me. There were a lot of good things about the production, and yet, it fell flat.

Jason Maniccia was one of the highlights. His Benedick was solid, and he looked at home in the part. I could believe in all of Benedick’s changing moods – his self-confidence, his mockery, his frustration with Beatrice, his love-induced melancholy and his puppy love. My only disappointment was that he could have made so much more of the eavesdropping scene, but that is probably more director Daniel Somerfield’s fault.

Ithica Tell made a smart, sassy Beatrice. She made the 400-year-old puns and wordplays feel fresh and spontaneous and biting. But I could never really buy the bit where Beatrice is in love with Benedick. And unfortunately, most of the rest of the cast didn’t play up to her energy level, and so she felt out of place. I would really like to see her in some fast-paced, high-energy productions. I think she would be brilliant.

This production, however, was not fast-paced or high-energy.

Chris Ringkamp’s Claudio was eager and innocent and young and in love, but Holly Wigmore’s flat performance of Hero gave him nothing to work with. Where Chris really shone was as one of the watch, where he could play more of a comic role, and where the other actors’ energy was infectious.

Most of that energy came from Clara-Liis Hillier (Constable Dogberry) and Lauren Modica (Verges) who absolutely stole the show. Every moment they were on stage was a gem. Their timing, their expressions, the way they stayed so wonderfully in character when the focus was not necessarily on them – they were wonderful! And costume designer Clare Parker did a bang-up job with their costumes, too. I particularly loved Dogberry’s skunk necktie with the squeaker, and Verges’s fez.

Composer and musician Jason Okamoto also deserves praise for his beautiful music (performed by him and Ali Ippolito). It gave just the right flavor and helped create the mood where other aspects failed.

One of the main problems with this production was the timing. Was it really necessary to break up the flow of the whole thing by having stagehands rearrange the benches every scene? It didn’t contribute to the sense of location or setting, and it killed what little energy there was in the last scene. If the benches absolutely have to be moved, why not have the actors do it as part of their scene? Another timing issue was that actors would often do their actions and then speak their lines – but not at the same time. Guys? We’re not that interested in watching you play a game of lawn bowls. And when the play has a lot of talking in it, you don’t want to drag it out any more than necessary.

So timing was a problem. Lack of energy was a problem. Several poor performances contributed to the overall lack of sparkle. In general, I found it a good time to work on my quilt. Which is saying something on a 100-degree day.

Hamlet... in a Cemetery

Review of PAE’s Hamlet (14 July 2012)

To begin their 43^rd season, Portland Actors Ensemble took a straightforward, streamlined Hamlet and set it in Portland’s oldest cemetery – Lone Fir Cemetery. The setting was magical. To watch a play that echoes unceasingly with the inevitability of death while surrounded by tombstones is an amazing experience.

The cast had to work hard to live up to the setting, and in many cases they succeeded. The entire production was fast-paced and intense. Occasionally the intensity seemed over-the-top for those of us with front-row seats, but it was necessary with audiences in the hundreds night after night.

Manipulation oozed from every angle of this play – Old Hamlet’s Ghost (Mark Rothwell) manipulating his son, Polonius (Curt Hanson) manipulating his daughter, Claudius and Gertrude (Mark Rothwell and MaryAnne Glazebrook) manipulating Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (Samson Syharath and Sam Burns), Claudius manipulating Laertes (Peter Schuyler)… the list goes on and on.

Doug Reynolds was a convincing if young-feeling Hamlet. He made us feel the pressure the character was under – the pressure to be the perfect son (both to his demanding, dead father and to his self-centered, oblivious mother), the perfect prince, and the perfect boyfriend. He had to keep up appearances the entire time and had no one that he could be himself with. Ophelia (played by Kayla Lian) would have been the one person Hamlet could have poured out his heart to, if her brother and father hadn’t gotten in the way. Then Hamlet recognized that she was a chink in his armor and he couldn’t afford the distraction, which provokes the “Get thee to a nunnery” scene. But we really did feel that he loved her very much.

Kayla Lian did an amazing job of showing the strain that leads to Ophelia’s madness. It was very clear that, despite his many shortcomings, she loved her father very much. In fact, the whole family dynamic with Polonius, Laertes and Ophelia was touchingly and beautifully done.

Polonius (Curt Hanson) was perfect. He was a believable rather overbearing father and trusted advisor to the king, while at the same time being a tedious windbag. Hanson’s comic timing and delivery were brilliant.

Mark Rothwell’s performance of Claudius was remarkable, also. Every time he was on stage I hated him a little more… and when you’re playing a villain that means you’re doing a good job. He reminded me of a slug, or something that gives you that slimy feeling. He was self-centered and evil with a thin veneer of charm and polish – a perfect stage politician.

The production was filled with wonderful moments – many of them brilliantly awkward and funny. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern excelled at awkward, as did Adam Thompson playing Reynaldo (and various butler-esque minor moments). Charlie Pierce made an excellent gravedigger… and watching someone play with a skeleton in a cemetery was an experience I won’t soon forget!

My main concerns with this production were with bigger conceptual things. For one thing, the way the players were presented bothered me – turning the leading player into a woman and implying some past between Hamlet and her didn’t help my view of Hamlet’s character. Say what you want about princes or college students or whatever, I still feel like it weakened the character and called his relationship with Ophelia into question somewhat. With that kind of history, you almost feel like Laertes and Polonius were right to tell Ophelia to keep her distance.

Director Bruce Hostetler also majorly minimized the Horatio / Hamlet friendship and turned Horatio (Scott Fullerton) into a glorified babysitter the entire time. This did help to isolate Hamlet and require him to put up even more of a façade, but when everyone in the play dies, you kind of want the one person left on stage to be someone you’ve come to love and sympathize with. This didn’t happen.

In fact, the entire second half was plagued with continuity issues because of the way the play was cut down. Now, I totally understand the need to cut the massive play so that people are able to sit through it. And I don’t know how I could have done it myself. But I would not have taken out Hamlet’s encounter with Fortinbras’s army (Act 4 scene 4 – the whole impetus for the “How all occasions do inform against me” speech) or Hamlet’s ill-fated trip to England. I was not convinced by the “Oh, he just decided not to go all of a sudden” way that was handled. When Hamlet forges the letter that sends Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to their deaths, it is a significant step in his journey, and not one that can be left out.

The ending (after everyone dies) was also cut down significantly, leaving out what I think of as the zinger – the “this was the point of this story” moment – and weakening the end considerably. I missed

“So shall you hear

of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,

of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,

of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,

and, in this upshot, purposes mistook

fall’n on th’ inventors’ heads. All this can I

truly deliver” (5.2.422-428).

So while it was overall a good performance and the actors played their parts very well, the whole thing lacked a cohesive feel and a main point that resonates with the audience as they drive home.

The cemetery was very, very cool, though.

Post5's Dream

Review of Post5 Theatre’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (13 July 2012)

The great thing about theatre is that no two perspectives on any one play are the same. Each production I see helps me understand the original better. Each director, designer and actor has his own view of what’s going on, and when you put those all together, you get a unique production that (as long as the perspectives are actually drawn from the script) helps the audience see the play in a way they never have before.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream seems particularly suited for this. Something about the play itself brings out the quirky creativity in people and lends itself to clever concepts and settings – sometimes a little too clever for the play’s good. But, honestly! What are you supposed to do with fairies, young people, courtiers and laborers-turned-thespians, not to mention magic spells and someone with a donkey’s head?

Post5 Theatre’s Dream took some getting used to. Directors Erica Terpening-Romeo and Caitlin Fisher-Draeger set it in Athens, Georgia, and gave everyone (all the mortals, at least) thick southern accents. Some of the actors handled this better than others, but overall I found I wasn’t a huge fan of listening to Shakespeare’s language with the extra challenge of sorting out an accent. (I’m not going to get into the discussion here of how English sounded in Shakespeare’s day. All I can say is, I didn’t live then.)

The other bit that I took a while to warm up to was their depiction of the fairies, who had some vaguely Native American vibe going on, complete with body paint and feathers. I will admit that the body paint (in fluorescent yellow, orange, green, pink and purple) was fun and funky, and they used it to good effect later on, but especially at the beginning, the fairies were a little too weird for me.

On the other hand, the way the directors had the fairies be present for the whole play, sometimes just watching on the sidelines, sometimes actively participating in bits where Shakespeare doesn’t explicitly have them on stage, was quite clever, and I liked it very much. They provided sound effects and contributed to the general enchantment of everyone else in the forest by occasionally smearing someone with pink or green paint – pink producing love and green envy or anger. While I’m pretty sure that Shakespeare is trying to point out that humans generally need little interference from the fairy world in order to make fools of ourselves, the fairy contribution to the insanity was a nice touch.

The set – a kind of scaffold supported by tree-like structures – provided handy perches for the fairies, and lent itself to some quite entertaining staging. It looked quite versatile, also – very impressive.

The costuming was problematic for me. The fairies wore as little as possible (low slung yoga pants and a bra?), and Helena and Hermia’s tops were inappropriately tight (Helena’s) and low (Hermia’s). That, coupled with over-the-top sexually suggestive physicality, keeps me from recommending the play. Don’t get me wrong: I know what’s going on in the play; I just think that it really doesn’t have to be that R-rated.

Orion Bradshaw’s Puck was a little disturbing at times until I started thinking of the fairy as a little boy who doesn’t know when something is appropriate and when not. From that point on, I enjoyed his performance very much.

The four lovers were quite good, and after a while, even the southern accents worked in this setting – especially with the girls. Jade Hobbs especially threw herself 110 percent into Helena, and did a marvelous job.

And then… the Rude Mechanicals. I nearly laughed myself sick when they were on stage. They were all quite brilliant, but especially Todd Hermanson as Bottom and R. David Willie as Flute. All the preparation for the play within a play was appropriately silly and great, but the play itself threatened to steal the show. From the Lion’s (Andrew Forrest’s) “mane” made out of a tutu to the Wall (David Wade Granmo) slowly melting under its own weight and Quince (Kerry Ryan) the director mouthing everyone’s parts along with them and correcting their pronunciation, it was amazing! And then, after all the silliness, they switched midstream and make the ending poignant and touching… Bravo.

I have yet to see a production of Dream that I am wholly satisfied with – no one’s vision is quite like mine – but each one I see helps me understand the play a little better, and for that, I am grateful. Post5 Theatre’s Dream may not be mine, but I think, under all the awkward accents, ill-conceived costumes and inappropriate actions, they caught the spirit and the heart of the play, as Puck says, “Lord what fools these mortals be.” Sometimes, it’s good to remember that… and to laugh at ourselves.

Measure for Measure -- Mercy and Justice

Review of NWCTC’s Measure for Measure (7-7-2012)

Measure for Measure is not for everyone. The whole plot revolves around what can only be called “adult content.” That being said, however, Shakespeare uses this framework to explore the delicate balance between justice and mercy, much as he does in Merchant of Venice (only better, in my opinion). Shakespeare is obviously thinking back to Matthew 7:1-2, especially where it says, “by your standard of measure it will be measure to you.” Some may be disturbed that in the end Shakespeare’s plea for mercy appears to let everyone off the hook for their lewd behavior, but for me at least, the take-away was more that living according to the spirit of the law is often harder than just blindly adhering to the letter. It’s better to extend mercy and change someone’s life than to cut that life short.

Because of its subject matter, Measure for Measure must be a very difficult play to stage, and yet director Butch Flowers and his talented cast and crew did a tasteful and very good job with it. They successfully navigate around the myriad pitfalls and avoid the temptation to go overboard with the innuendos and raciness. Even the costuming, which in many plays is inappropriate with much less motivation, was modest. If you’re going to have a problem with this play, it will be with Shakespeare’s story, not with Flowers’ vision of it.

Technically the play was beautiful; sets, lighting music and costumes were all just right. Performance-wise, it was brilliant. There wasn’t a single character that didn’t sparkle. Jayson Shanafelt’s intensity and fixity of purpose made for an excellently awful Angelo. Bonnie Auguston’s Isabella was a believable novice nun in an awkward and tight spot. And Chris Porter made an great if somewhat abrupt Duke Vincentio. Joe Healy’s Provost and Nathan Crosby’s Claudio were both wonderfully sympathetic, as was Clara-Liis Hillier’s Mariana. The whole production was well-paced, and Jason Maniccia’s comic timing as Lucio was hysterical. The bits with the executioner and his apprentice had me in absolute stitches – well done, Matt Pavik and David Burnett!

As I was watching I had a hard time thinking of any way the production could be improved. But as I thought more about it and eavesdropped to the responses of the audience, I think perhaps a little more emphasis on the mercy vs. justice theme would have helped. That, however, is really the only thing I can think of that would make it even better.

Measure for Measure is a powerful play, but not one that is necessarily accessible or even appropriate for everyone. It’s lesson, however, is one that bears repeating:

“For judgment will be merciless to one who has shown no mercy; mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:13).

Sonnets...

I feel I must apologize for my woeful neglect of this blog lately. All I can say is that June is an insane month. I've had several Shakespeare moments that I haven't had time to write up (finally saw Coriolanus, went to Hamlet in the cemetery, spent some time questioning the main point of the Tempest... stuff like that), and I hope to get some reviews done soon. But now for something completely different:

I stumbled on this happiness while doing research for my latest writing project. This is now my favorite way to enjoy the sonnets:

I had heard some of these before in a CD set called "When Love Speaks," but there's a few in this collection that aren't in that one... like...

Of course, some of these people could read the phone book, and I'd love it. How much more when it's beautiful poetry by my favorite author?