Berkshire Bright Focus...

Antony and Cleopatra by William Shakespeare. Directed by Michael Hammond.

Reviewed by J. Peter Bergman

          Busy, also, is Tina Packer. Packer has created a world, controlled it and now, at last some might say, recreated herself in the person of Cleopatra in William Shakespeare’s bawdy tragedy about that Queen’s relationship with Antony. For one woman who is accustomed to having her own way to play the woman who was best at that is both alarming and alluring. For the rest of the summer you can see for yourself how Packer fares as Cleo.

          Here is an older woman, not a classic beauty, playing a younger one. Packer has, reportedly, lost 60 pounds in preparation for the role. She truly looks marvelous these days and that is a help in playing this part. There must be some way for us, the passive onlookers in this three hour tragedy, to believe that the Cleopatra we see before us has the power to control the men in her life, and her beauty is one of those ways. Even though she is at the end of her powerful youth, Cleopatra manages to hold on to the imagination and sexual dynamics of her man. She has inspired great love and that sort of emotional grip can, and does in this play, unbutton a man’s strength, remove his power to reason appropriately. That is what eventually proves the undoing of Marc Antony. Love has overwhelmed reason.

          Packer brings a great deal of charm and a load of experience at controlling men into her playing of the part. She is seductive when that is needed. She is bawdy, not unlike men in a pub over a tankard of ale, when it is right to be so. She is magisterial when she must be and humble when it is least appropriate. She does it all. In a strange way Cleopatra is the Shakespearean role Packer was born to play; she’s been playing it her whole life.

          As the object of her affection, Nigel Gore is only slightly less effective. Not the handsome, virile man we have come to know in the role, the Richard Burton face, voice and legs, but a common sort of soldier who has achieved greatness through his personality and military strengths, Gore’s Antony is a wonder to behold. In the opening of the play, in Michael Hammond’s inspired direction, the principals do not enter with their various courtiers, they are revealed in bed in the throes of lovemaking and they depart the room in a way that lets us know that lovemaking for the day is not complete. Here are folks engulfed in the animal magnetism they feel for one another. It is the keystone of this production, that lust/love combination that provides for wrong decisions and mis-direction of efforts. Gore handles this scene beautifully. We meet him not as a great man, but as a man, period.

          Gore does not fare as well in the fight scenes, but he has a command of language and emotion that allows him to show his feelings of betrayal, love, desire for power, and disdain remarkably well. He can convey the quixotic changes demanded by the script with a vocal quirk that instantly tells the tale. His face does not follow suit, however, and he seems all too often to be unable to physically express what his voice is conveying. He does move erotically, however, when the movement required by choreographer Susan Dibble demands it.

          Cleopatra’s minion, Enobarbus, who becomes a devotee of Antony’s is played with great power and emotional conflict by Walton Wilson. He is so strong a presence that this play could almost be called Antony and Enobarbus. Octavius Caesar is nicely brought to life by Craig Baldwin who makes the relationship with his sister Octavia into an almost overwhelmingly erotic one. Robert Gibbs is a touching Lepidus. Tony Molina’s Soothsayer is one more brilliant cameo part for him. Michael Solomon does very well with the role of Agrippa. A touch too modern in her playing is Christianna Nelson’s Charmian, but her final scene was touching and well played.

          Bill Barclay’s Roman and Egyptian music was stunning, so very much a part of the play that it felt like real music and not something for backgrounds. Carl Sprague’s set works brilliantly from beginning to end and Arthur Oliver’s most peculiar costumes add little to the sense of period but certainly catch one’s eye. His use of color was not specific enough to delineate who was fighting whom. His Cleopatra costumes ran the gamut from delectable to detritus. Les Dickert’s lighting added the right touches of place and time.

Then there is the requisite Dibble Dance. Frankly some plays could do well without one. In this play there are three battle scenes, one at sea, with movement by Susan Dibble. They are not required, frankly, but are added pieces where Shakespeare would just as soon talk about it as show it.

          Shakespeare was right.

          As bad as those three gratuitous moment are, there’s one that’s worse. Following the romantic suicide of Cleopatra (I hope I’m not spoiling this for any readers), the world around her comes to romantic life as the ghost of Marc Antony appears, she is revived by music and the Egyptian Gods and all promenade for three minutes, totally taking from Tina Packer and her ladies the most moving and emotionally satisfying finale this play could have, the one provided by the playwright. Lose the Dibble; regain the play.

          Packer is moving as the most inspiring woman since Helen of Troy and, frankly, she is not the youngster we might anticipate Cleopatra being, so why force her to rise from her recumbent position in full light only to prance. If this is tradition, let it die by the bite of this aspic of a critic.Give the actress and the play their due, please. They both work hard enough to achieve the best result.

Antony and Cleopatra plays in rep at Shakespeare and Company in Lenox, MA with A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Rough Crossing, and Blue/Orange through September 2. Ticket prices range from $20 to $57. For schedules and tickets contact the box office at 413-637-3353.