production photo by Jenny Graham |
The set is fairly simple, with a raised platform in the
center, upon which is a wood desk and chair. Behind that is a set of
bookshelves, with the scales of justice in a central position. The play, of
course, deals with the concept and execution of justice, and how it may be
tempered by mercy. As the performance begins, the Duke (Paul Culos) takes his
position by the desk, but before he can speak, there is a sudden clamor, as
several others enter below him, rowdy citizens displaying licentious behavior
and attitudes, wild and undisciplined. Vincentio watches in dismay. It is good
that we get this moment and this sense of how he views the citizens, for this
helps us understand why he is temporarily giving his powers to his deputy,
Angelo. Angelo (Ramón de Ocampo) is understandably confused at suddenly being
given the position to rule, and at first does not desire such a position. The
play’s opening scene moves quite quickly, which works well for Angelo’s sense
of surprise. This production includes quite a bit of doubling up of roles, and
the actor who plays Angelo also plays Claudio, Isabella’s brother. It is
interesting that the same actor plays the one condemning and the one condemned.
When Claudio enters, he is paraded in front of the audience, leading to his
line “why dost thou show me thus to th’
world?” He is shackled, and a sign around his neck reads, “Lechery.”
When the Duke explains his plan to Friar Thomas (Paul
Eiding), the Friar does not immediately take to it, which is a really nice
moment. The Duke’s role in this play is often the toughest to defend, for he
seems to take delight in trickery, and so it is great that this religious man
doesn’t at first think too kindly of his plan to pretend he is one of their
order. At the end of that scene, Friar Thomas silently hands the Duke his Bible
as a way to indicate he will comply with the Duke’s wishes, which to me seems
to show a reluctance and a mild reproof of the Duke’s scheme, which again is
wonderful. Paul Eiding also plays both Elbow and Barnadine. While he is quite
funny as the somewhat bumbling constable, where he really shines is as
Barnadine, the prisoner who does not consent to being executed.
Isabella (Carolyn Ratteray) has a sweet and kind air
about her when we first meet her, and is immediately likeable. When she first
speaks to Angelo in the hope of saving her brother’s life, she nearly breaks on
the line “I had a brother then,”
which is incredibly moving. And so when Lucio says that she’s too cold, we feel
for her. She does begin to turn away again when Angelo says “be gone,” and might have given up but
for Lucio’s stern look at her. It is clear that her eloquence then is what
impresses Angelo and begins to stir his interest. When Angelo states his own
case, he pulls out several books, and opens them to show her the laws that he
is enforcing. He speaks almost as passionately as Isabella, his passion being
for the law. When Isabella’s speaks the line “O, it is excellent/To have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous/To
use it like a giant,” Lucio pipes in with “That’s well said,” and he is clearly speaking for all of us in the
audience. That is a line for all times, isn’t it? Both Isabella and Angelo are
fantastic in this scene. Angelo is troubled, even shocked, by his own desire,
which is great. After Isabella and Lucio exit, Angelo plainly and honestly asks
us in the audience, “What’s this? What’s
this?” And it feels like he truly is hoping one of us will provide him an
answer. His distress seems true, and he drops to his knees and uses his belt to
whip himself, perhaps as punishment for his thoughts, or perhaps in the hope
that the act will cleanse himself of them. It is a powerful and unexpected
moment.
And before their second scene together, Angelo is clearly
nervous, but then steels himself when Isabella enters. On his “if you give me love,” he steps to block
Isabella’s way. When she threatens to make public what has transpired in his
office, Angelo says, “Who will believe
thee, Isabel?” That is the question, isn’t it? And that it is how we end up
with someone like Brett Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court. This is an intense
moment in the play, for now Angelo is unleashed, and Isabella is clearly in
danger. Angelo steals a kiss from her, and even that feels like rape. When
Angelo exits, Isabella is left alone on the stage, and she has taken his words
to heart, now asking herself and the heavens, “Who would believe me?” And it is this image of Isabella alone that
we are left with as the first half of the performance ends. Interestingly,
during intermission a board is placed in front of the bookcase, so the scales
of justice are no longer visible.
While Ramón de Ocampo is phenomenal as Angelo, he is also
quite good as Claudio. I particularly like his expression during the Duke’s
speech about life and death, which reads as “What the hell is this guy talking
about?” And Claudio’s fear of death is believable, especially when he says “to die and go we know not where.”
Indeed, that is a fear most have, and it causes us to side with him, at least
momentarily. Isn’t his life worth more than his sister’s virginity? And when
she shouts at him in anger, that is the moment when she seems coldest. But when
soon thereafter Claudio begs to be allowed to ask his sister’s pardon, we feel
for them both, and again find ourselves seeing things from Isabella’s perspective.
Bo Foxworth is outstanding as Lucio. He is hilarious in
the scene where he asks Isabella to speak to Angelo on her brother’s behalf.
But what is more remarkable is that he conveys the seriousness of the situation
equally well. It is a joy to watch his layered performance. In the scene where
he speaks to the disguised Duke (which in this production happens before Act II
Scene iv), when he asks “What news,
Friar, of the Duke,” we get the sense that he knows the Friar’s identity.
His delivery is delicious and pointed. He then raises his voice on “what a ruthless thing is this in him,”
his anger seeming to be directed at the Duke as well as at Angelo, a nice touch.
But when he pulls a blade out, we in the audience are forced to think twice
about his awareness of the Friar’s identity. Foxworth also plays Juliet, and
his appearance as that character gets an initial laugh from the audience. Aaron
Lyons also turns in a good performance as Pompey, a character who takes great
joy in himself and in his questionable traits. I love the way he adjusts his speech
and his voice depending on whom he is addressing. For example, his “The valiant heart’s not whipped out of his
trade” speech is delivered directly to the audience, and the change in tone
shows he is taking us into his confidence.
The ending of Measure
For Measure presents some problems. The Duke is devious in letting Isabella
continue to believe her bother to be dead, and it is impossible to like him in
that moment. Yet when he returns to reclaim his position, it is supposed to be
a joyous moment, one of relief, that all things will be righted. And it turns
out that he, like Angelo, is attracted to Isabella. And while he doesn’t try to
force himself upon her, he does propose marriage, which means he doesn’t take
Isabella’s devotion to her faith all that seriously. Shakespeare provides no response
for Isabella. And so how are we to take her silence? Is it a joy not needed to
be expressed in words? Is it acquiescence to the desire of someone in position
of authority, something she had done her best to avoid throughout the play? In
this production, it is neither. Isabella steps back from the Duke when he
proposes marriage, and the Duke, understanding, nods at her, accepting her
rejection. It is a much stronger and daring position for her to take. And, as
at the end of the first act, Isabella is left alone on stage at the end of the
performance.
This production of Measure
For Measure runs through April 6th. Visit the theatre’s official website
for the complete schedule. There is one fifteen-minute intermission, which
comes at the end of Act II. Antaeus Theatre Company performs at the Kiki & David
Gindler Performing Arts Center, located at 110 East Broadway in Glendale,
California.