Buttons and bows
by Michael Dresdner
Front row: Sabrina Ebengho, Ben Stahl, Isaac Gutiereez photos by Kate Paterno-Lick
Re-imagining Shakespeare into different time periods and settings
is part of the grand tradition of theatre, and that’s what opened last night at
Lakewood Playhouse. This time around director Kristie Worthey has plunged A Comedy
of Errors into the present day Pacific Northwest, with the two lost pairs of twins
hailing from Seattle and Portland respectively.
First, a quick recap of the highly confusing story line, just
to refresh your memory. Egeon (called Aegeon in this version) and his wife had
twin boys, both named Antipholus, for some reason. The parents bought a poor
woman’s twin boys, born the same day, to be slaves for their boys. Both slaves
are named Dromio. Perhaps there was a name shortage.
The family was riven in a shipwreck and divided as such: Aegeon
raised one Antipholus and his Dromio, who are now “away” searching for their
siblings. Meanwhile, the other pair were separated from their mother. The
searching pair arrive in, well, Portland, in this case, unaware that their
father and their mother, now an Abbess in the town, are both there, but unaware
of one another. They are also unaware that the orphan twins they seek live
right there in town, as a well-know, highly respected, and wealthy married man
and his slave.
L to R: Ben Stahl, Frank Roberts
As they make their way through the day, all four of the
twins, in pairs and alone, are constantly mistaken for one another by townspeople,
wives, and even each slave to his master. What ensues are inexplicably locked homes,
seemingly illegitimate debts, lost gifts and money, confused sexual liasons, an
arrest; you name it, whatever can go wrong does, until all parties are comically
aggrieved and thoroughly confused. Eventually, all is revealed; the Abbess reunites
with her long lost husband, Aegeon, and the two sets of twins discover each
other, and their parents, for an all-around happy ending.
Worthey chose to set the play in a Portlandia version of
Portland, OR, one chock full of weirdness in both behavior and dress, and even
more odd, one where there are no long lines in front of Voodoo Donuts (named
Zombie Donuts here.) The townsfolk cavort, joke around, make balloon animals, and
generally act out with unfettered frivolity. They also trot out and play a variety
of instruments , including flute, guitar, recorder, and saxophone, a nice
tribute considering yesterday was the 201st birthday of inventor
Adolphe Sax.
Naturally, this conceit gave Worthey the chance to add local
references, timely gentle insults, and regional jokes to the text, some quite
good. (Note to the community at large: “Deja Brew,” the punch line of one such
gag, is actually a damned good name for a barista kiosk, and certainly
appropriate for a Java Tacoma installment.)
As for the play itself, the original still shines through,
relatively unaffected and largely unharmed by this local and modern treatment,
with one minor exception. I was sorry to see the famous and outrageous “spherical
like a globe; I could find out countries in her” rant get truncated.
And the actors? With all Shakespeare, the most important challenge
for the actors is twofold; they must truly understand what the language is saying
(since, after all, it is not in present day English), and they must make sure,
with expression, delivery, and body language, that they somehow convey that
meaning clearly to the audience.
On that score, the leads did an excellent job. A tip of the
hat to Ben Stahl, who played both Antipholus parts superbly, to Frank Roberts,
who likewise did an outstanding job of the two Dromios, to the flashy and
brazen Jodie Chapin for a delightful Adriana, the wife of the local Antipholus,
and to Cameron Waters, who not only played a wonderful Aegeon, but then morphed
into the second Dromio for the final reveal scene. Stahl, in comparison, does
the reveal alone, playing both Antipholus brothers via rapid onstage costume
changes reminiscent of the train scene in The 39 Steps.
The set and lighting design by Brett Carr was simple and
unobtrusive, which is, at least in my opinion, exactly what works best for most
Shakespeare. Skyline and bridge cutouts let us know where we were, but
otherwise the stage contained merely ramps, a platform, and hiding spots for
the actors to create settings. Costumes by Nena Curley were, I assume, meant to
be intentionally haphazard, and were. Clothing ranged from a “hey, look what I
found in my closet” top hat and tee shirt pairing, to the “let’s raid the
costume shop for something improbable” harlequin top dress sported by Balthasar.
So now it’s time to ask the big question, the one that will
tell you whether this version of the classic will delight or vex you. Since we’re
so near Christmas, I’ll pose a seasonally themed version of the querry.
When you look at a stately spruce tree, do you think it is majestic
and perfect as is, or just waiting to be made special with drippings of tinsel
and brightly colored ornaments? Answer that and you’ll know whether what awaits
you is an unbridled treat or well-executed burr beneath your saddle.
A Comedy of Errors
Nov 6 to Nov 29, 2015
Lakewood Playhouse
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