"Shakespeare without Tears"
Since the theatre season can roughly be considered to run from May through April, it’s a pleasure to report that my first review of the 2015-2016 season is of the Fiasco Theater’s sweetly charming revival of THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA (possibly Shakespeare’s first play), at Theatre for a New Audience’s Polonsky Shakespeare Center in downtown Brooklyn. The production, co-directed by Jessie Austrian and Ben Steinfeld, which premiered last year at Washington, D.C.’s Folger Theatre, is in the spirit of those bare-boned interpretations of Shakespeare (like the Peter Sarsgaard HAMLET now at the CSC) in which a minimal number of actors (six in this instance) play all the roles, only the most essential props are employed, the actors wear some familiar version of modern clothing, and a simplified unit setting is used. In the case of Fiasco, you can add the casting of actors who can also play musical instruments and sing.
Stars range from 5-1. |
Since the theatre season can roughly be considered to run from May through April, it’s a pleasure to report that my first review of the 2015-2016 season is of the Fiasco Theater’s sweetly charming revival of THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA (possibly Shakespeare’s first play), at Theatre for a New Audience’s Polonsky Shakespeare Center in downtown Brooklyn. The production, co-directed by Jessie Austrian and Ben Steinfeld, which premiered last year at Washington, D.C.’s Folger Theatre, is in the spirit of those bare-boned interpretations of Shakespeare (like the Peter Sarsgaard HAMLET now at the CSC) in which a minimal number of actors (six in this instance) play all the roles, only the most essential props are employed, the actors wear some familiar version of modern clothing, and a simplified unit setting is used. In the case of Fiasco, you can add the casting of actors who can also play musical instruments and sing.
From left: Zachary Fine, Noah Brody. Photo: Gerry Goodstein. |
At the insistence of his father, Antonio (Mr.
Grotelueschen), who thinks the experience will prove beneficial, Valentine moves
with his servant Speed (Paul L. Coffey) from Verona to Milan, where Valentine
falls in love with Sylvia (Ms. Young), daughter of the Duke (Mr.
Grotelueschen). Proteus follows Valentine to Milan, falls in love at first
sight with Sylvia, and turns traitor to his friend, pulling low tricks to win
Sylvia, not only from Valentine, but from another suitor, the foolish but
wealthy Thurio (Mr. Coffey), the Duke’s choice. Julia, meanwhile, dresses as a
boy, Sebastian, to follow the unfaithful Proteus (whose name implies his
changefulness), and, following an adventure in the woods with Outlaws (Mr.
Grotelueschen, Ms. Young, and Mr. Brody), the play concludes with what many
find its biggest weaknesses—Valentine’s instant forgiveness of his treacherous
friend, his offer to give the uncomplaining Sylvia to Proteus (as if she were a piece of
property), and the reconciliation of Proteus with the girl he so callously
abandoned. The knowing way in which the actors good humoredly manage to gloss
over these problems helps deter any cries of foul from disgruntled critics.
Derek McLane’s set consists of a platform of
grayish-white planking on which sit two massive pillars, like those of the
Elizabethan theatre, with benches at either side where the actors often wait
for their next scene. Barely an furniture figures in the action, the floor usually being all that's needed when people sit. Surrounding
all and hanging overhead are a black backdrop and canopy to which are attached hundreds
of what at first seem floral blossoms but are actually crumpled letters. Various
written messages are constantly used, time after time being torn up and strewn
about by distressed characters. A program note points out the company’s belief
that the play, being about the characters’ exploration of their “selves,”
reflects the way in which our early relationships with lovers and friends are
drafts of the relationships we will have later in life, “So we crumple up those
first attempts and start again.” The letters on the backdrop suggest, perhaps,
those early drafts we discard in the process of maturing, although most of us
would never know that without being told.
Simple as the set is, it takes on exquisite life under
the enchanted lighting of Tim Cryan, which creates an endless spectrum of
delicately colored effects. The simplicity of the scenic concept is especially
notable late in the play when an autumnal feeling is evoked by both reddish
lighting and the tossing of reams of red paper in the air, where, like falling leaves,
they drift to the floor and fill the stage with one of the few bold splashes of
color the show provides.
Whitney Locher’s costumes are similarly unaffected,
the men in casual, mid-20th-century collegiate gear, a vest here, a v-neck there, everything in pale pastels or beige, while the women wear modest
but attractive, form-fitting dresses. Except for when Julia dresses as a boy, a hat,
scarf, or other identifying feature allows those who play multiple roles to
differentiate one from the other. Appealing as the look is, the persistent tastefulness
and minimalism of the costumes eventually fall victim to the law of diminishing
returns; one begins to wonder whether, without necessarily providing more
elaborate costumes, bolder color choices could not have been made occasionally to heighten
visual interest and sharpen the character differences.
The actors (who chat casually with the audience before
the show begins, and again before the second act) are uniformly appealing; they
speak clearly, their motivations are precise, they move well, sing nicely
(including a version of the familiar “Who Is Sylvia?”), demonstrate quality musicianship,
and manage to express the play’s mostly gentle, if sometimes strained, humor.
The cute way Mr. Fine plays Crab, of course, has nothing to do with
Shakespearean acting, or with Shakespeare’s intentions, but it serves the
production effectively without damaging its mood. My personal favorites among
the humans are Mses. Austrian and Young, each of whom offers multiple levels of humor, affection, and strength.
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From left: Zachary Fine, Andy Groteleuschen, Emily Young, Paul L.Coffey, Noah Brady. Photo: Gerry Goodstein. |
The most memorable production I’ve ever seen of THE
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA was the 1971, hippy-oriented, musical version starring
Raul Julia (as Proteus) that began at the New York Shakespeare Festival and moved to
Broadway. Despite providing the early forms of characters and situations for much of the bard's great work, this is one
of Shakespeare’s thinnest plays; Galt McDermott’s score, with lyrics by John Guare, was as much a factor in making show a hit as Shakespeare's plot and whatever dialogue of his remained in Guare and Mel Shapiro's adaptation. The Fiasco’s more orthodox approach to Shakespeare's text brings out deeper values, and while I don’t think it has the makings of a commercial success, it’s perfectly suited to the intimate TFANA
environment, where it’s kicking the new season off to a promising start.
Theatre for a New Audience/Polonsky Shakespeare Center
262 Ashland Place, Brooklyn
Through May 24