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| Puck and Oberon observe an unhappy Athenian; photo: Kevin Sprague |
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When it comes to the familiar in theater nothing seems quite so very familiar as A Midsummer Night’s Dream. We seem to have seen it a lot; starting in grade school and ending a few years after our own deaths, there it is. At Shakespeare and Company’s new production, during a matinee performance, a small child sitting behind me in a New York Yankees costume, said to his father at the intermission "I know the short version, but I’ve never seen this long one before." Later on, during the wedding sequence, he remarked, "Does this ever end?" No kid, it never does. Somehow there’s always a production of this play somewhere. When it is as interesting as this one, that’s a good thing and you just have to get used to that idea. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, written in 1595–96 between Romeo and Juliet and Henry IV, Part One, is here to stay.
The story, for anyone who doesn’t already know, is this. Theseus, Duke of Athens is about to marry Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. Hermia, betrothed to Demetrius, loves Lysander and their friend Helena loves Demetrius. The four run off into the woods one midsummer’s eve and are there met by Oberon, King of the Fairies, and his servant Robin Goodfellow or Puck. In trying to solve their love triangles, things become even more confused. At the same time Oberon tries to wrest control of a changeling boy from his estranged wife, Titania. He does this by confusing her emotions, causing her to fall in love with Nick Bottom, a carpenter, who has been bewitched into the form of a donkey. In the end, this being a comedy, everything comes out the way it should be.
Coming at the mid-point in the author’s career, the play is one of the finest ever written, with dozens of famous lines, quotable ones, that come and go rapidly leaving the audience feeling satisfied that they know this piece well. It takes an inventive director to bring out something new in a production and Holdridge does some very interesting things here, providing a greater physical comedy than most have allowed their companies. Hermia tackles Lysander in the woods. Helena drags Demetrius’ pants off of him in the Duke’s court. Bottom, performing the role of the lover Pyramus in an entertainment at the Duke’s wedding takes longer to die than any ham actor in history. Shakespeare has only given him five repetitions of the order, "die," but in Lenox he manages to turn that into a triple triple. It’s all delicious fun.
Bottom is played by Nigel Gore. His performance is key to the low comedy of the evening. He is puffed up, according to the writing, with pride in his potential. He is so sure of himself that not even his transformations surprise him nor disturb him. He is a man living his dream. As his co-star in the melodrama to come, Ryan Winkles imbues Francis Flute with a delicate nature so sweet he can pull off the drag role of Thisbe, the beloved of Pyramus with no sense of personal betrayal, but only the talent of the amateur who accepts his fate in casting. Their director, Peter Quince, is played with verve and an exasperation that causes giggles in the audience by Robert Biggs.
Theseus and Oberon, rulers of their own estates, are played by Michael Solomon. Less commanding a force than he might be, his tenor voice a shade too light for my ears, he is a visually striking King of the night and a commanding hand over his willful servant, Puck. Kevin Rich plays the latter. He is so wonderfully strident that his unencumbered masculinity is hysterically funny. More a satyr than other Pucks I’ve seen, his joy at making mistakes in following orders takes on an erotic tone. He is wonderful to watch, this wanderer of the night.
The lovers are young and talented and sometimes good, sometimes great and sometimes a bit off. Hermia, at the center of the conflict was played by Julie Webster, and her friend Helena by Christianna Nelson. Their swains were Justin Gibbs as Lysander and Craig Baldwin as Demetrius.
Tony Molina makes Tom Snout into an oaf, but that plays out well when he takes up his role in the entertainment as Wall. He was extremely funny and even a bit touching in his deep sincerity.
Molly Stuart Wright is an odd Hippolyta but a lovely Titania. That may be due, in part, to the physical concept for her roles. While the men at court are basically in Napoleonic attire, she is dressed in the Amazon costume we expect from a much earlier period. Most of the women are in Empire gowns, including Titania, but not this mortal Queen. She is right out of BC. The costumes have been designed by Jessica Ford.
This dichotomy in design is part of the concept brought to the play by Holdridge. Her sense of the universality of this play is a fine one, but hard to put across with visuals that confuse an audience.
The lighting by Les Dickert is divine, mood-enhancing, graphically right. It helped to create the gorgeous stage pictures the play needed, except for the portable electic footlights. Screwing out the bulbs to dim an area didn't enhance the "dream." Kris Stone’s sets work perfectly from the ephemeral to the concrete.
Unlike the little boy behind me I didn’t wonder when the play would end. I was having too good a time with it, growing used to the oddness of the acting and production styles gradually and eventually falling victim, yet again, to the magic of Shakespeare’s vision enhanced by the work of the modern magicians this company employs to make the familiar new again.
◊06/24/2007◊
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