Sunday, October 14, 2018

Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead (A Noise Within 2018 Production) Theatre Review

production photo by Craig Schwartz
Hamlet is regarded by many as perhaps the greatest literary achievement of mankind. Most of the play’s characters, however, might have different feelings about it, as they do not make it to the end. Among those that die along the way are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, two guys who were once friends with Hamlet but come under the employ of the duplicitous, murderous Claudius. They aren’t in all that many scenes, but Tom Stoppard puts them center stage in Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead, the title of which acknowledges their demise from the get-go. When reading Hamlet, you sometimes wonder how Hamlet could have ever considered these two to be friends. They don’t seem to have any of his intellectual or philosophical curiosity. But in Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead, they do. Or, at least Guildenstern does. Or is it Rosencrantz? In Hamlet, the two are often viewed as interchangeable, and in Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead, several references are made to that, to the extent that they themselves often don’t know who is who. This idea of identity is one of the subjects the play delves into. But it is also about the question of how much power a person has over the direction or course his or her life takes. Sometimes it feels like we’re just driven along by events, by circumstances, by forces outside of ourselves, and it doesn’t matter what we do. But don’t worry – this is an extremely funny play.

A Noise Within’s new production of Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead is thoroughly enjoyable, and while it may cause you to ponder certain key elements of your existence, it will more often have you laughing aloud. The set is fairly simple, with two stone staircases, one on each side of the stage. A translucent scrim is upstage, behind which a ladder is visible. At the edge of the thrust stage is a series of electric candles acting as footlights, that also seem to act as a barrier to the play’s two main characters. When the play opens, Guildenstern (Rafael Goldstein) is seated center stage, casually tossing coins. Rosencrantz (Kasey Mahaffy) runs around, calling out “Heads” each time a coin lands. After a time, Guildenstern gets up, but continues tossing the coins. It’s interesting, because immediately a distinction is made between the two, as Guildenstern moves about as he desires, albeit in a limited space, while Rosencrantz’s movement seems, at least at this point, dictated by the coins’ movement. They are struck by the improbability of the coins always landing heads up. I love the joy with which Rosencrantz exclaims, “I’ve never known anything like it!” Guildenstern is more troubled by the phenomenon, and wishes to explore the meaning behind it. Rosencrantz is caught off guard by Guildenstern’s sudden command, “Discuss,” clearly not having expected a need to take part in Guildenstern’s rumination.

After Guildenstern suggests they move forward, they march side-by-side to the edge of the stage, stopping before the footlights. There is a sudden lighting change, as well as a magical sound, giving the impression that they are being toyed with by the fates, the universe or the gods. The lighting changes whenever other characters are about to enter, suggesting a change in their world is only brought on by other people. It is the group of actors, led by The Player (Wesley Mann), that first enter their sphere. Mann gives an excellent performance. His delivery of “We can give you a tumble if that’s your taste” is playful and saucy, getting a big laugh from the audience. Likewise, all the following dialogue that basically paints The Player as a sort of pimp receives laughter. When Rosencrantz makes the introductions, he gets his own name wrong, yet isn’t at all surprised by this strange lapse in his knowledge. The Player too contributes to the theme of chance and fate, saying “We have no control.” What’s interesting also is that, though Rosencrantz and Guildenstern seem to have no control over their exits and entrances, they are able to halt the players and keep them from leaving. And later we learn from The Player that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern did in fact leave them (while they were in the middle of a performance for them, no less), but the audience doesn’t see this. So though the two never actually leave the stage, other characters do see them as entering and exiting.

Most of the play’s other characters enter from upstage, through a gap in the scrim. They come in like bright, powerful explosions into the world of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, accompanied by lighting and sound changes, and then leave. The real action is always elsewhere, and while Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are relieved to finally have something happen, they are even more relieved when the others exit. In fact, after meeting with Claudius (Jonathan Bray) and Gertrude (Abby Craden), as well as Polonius (Apollo Dukakis), the first thing Rosencrantz says upon their exits is “I want to go home.” Good instincts, eh? He seems to know he’s out of his depth. At times, the lines of Guildenstern and Rosencrantz seem to echo lines we know from Hamlet. For example, Guildenstern says “Words, words, they’re all we have to go on,” making us think of Hamlet’s “Words, words, words.” And when Guildenstern says “That is the question,” we can’t help but think of Hamlet’s most famous speech. By the way, the entire scene in which Guildenstern pretends to be Hamlet is hilarious. And, later, when Guildenstern asks The Player what the dumb show is for, he is likely speaking for many in the audience who have seen Hamlet.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern look out at the audience on the lines about hoping someone interesting will come along. Guildenstern asks, “See anyone?” Rosencrantz answers: “No. You?” Guildenstern says, “No.” Of course we laugh, and that laughter is aimed at ourselves, at the idea that none of us is interesting. But actually they don’t see us. Unlike some of the other characters of Hamlet, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern aren’t allowed soliloquys and asides. They aren’t given that avenue of escape, nor that element of control. They can’t bring others into their world. Or, for that matter, keep them out. At one point, Rosencrantz blurts out, “We have no control, none at all,” a sudden desperate realization. Before that, each asks if the other is hungry. Neither is, which is another hint that things aren’t real, or that perhaps they already are dead, as the play’s title suggests. And that dialogue, in fact, leads to questions about death. The Player seems to know the future, rehearsing the end of Hamlet before it happens (in what might be my favorite scene of the production), even indicating the number of corpses that will be seen on stage. It is almost has if he is a god, showing Rosencrantz and Guildenstern their futures, though perhaps also indicating that none of it is real. As The Player says, “Truth is only that which is taken to be true.”

There are no weak performances in this production, but there are some stand-outs, including of course the two leads, in rather demanding parts (hey, even Hamlet gets a few rather lengthy breaks in his play). And though other characters have trouble distinguishing between Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, we in the audience certainly do not. The third particularly remarkable performance is that by Wesley Mann as The Player. Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead was directed by Geoff Elliott. It runs through November 18th, in repertory with A Picture Of Dorian Gray. There are two brief intermissions, and the performance lasts approximately two and a half hours. Of course, the more familiar you are with Hamlet, the more you will enjoy this play. A Noise Within is located at 3352 E. Foothill Blvd. in Pasadena, California. There is free parking in the Sierra Madre Villa Metro Parking Structure at 149 N. Halstead Street.

Friday, October 12, 2018

Shakespeare Study: Miscellaneous Books

My Shakespeare study will likely never end, as there is so much to read, and there are always productions to go to as well as film adaptations to view. Here are a few Shakespeare books that I’ve read in recent months.

Pop Sonnets: Shakespearean Spins On Your Favorite Songs by Erik Didriksen  -   This delightful book presents modern pop songs in sonnet form, as if Shakespeare had written them. I received it as a gift for Christmas, and a while waiting for a concert to start, I read a few aloud to see if my girlfriend and brother could guess which songs were being adapted. It became a fun game. One of our favorites was the George Thorogood And The Destroyers’ “Bad To The Bone.” Here is a bit of it, in sonnet form: “The morning I was born, the midwives smil’d,/rejoicing o’er the cherub they help’d birth./The eldest cast a sharpen’d eye; the child/she new delinquent was, not cause for mirth” (p. 88). And here is a bit of The Clash’s “Should I Stay Or Should I Go”: “My dearest, settle thy uncertain mind/and tell me the conclusion thou hast reach’d!/Will I from here abscond, or shalt thou find/me fit to loiter ‘round here unimpeach’d?” (p. 49). Pop Sonnets: Shakespearean Spins On Your Favorite Songs was published in 2015 through Quirk Books.


Shakespeare’s King Lear: The Relationship Between Text And Film by Yvonne Griggs  -  This is a volume in the Screen Adaptations series. Author Yvonne Griggs talks about some of the film versions and screen adaptations of King Lear, including some that seem a bit of a stretch, such as The Godfather. In doing so, Griggs of course offers some thoughts on the play itself. When discussing Peter Brook’s 1971 film of King Lear, Griggs writes: “It seems that until licensed by Lear to speak she has been a far more compliant woman. However, from this point onwards Goneril’s control of language increases in direct proportion to Lear’s diminished powers of rhetoric. Lear, resorting to ‘curses’ as his only means of expressing his fury, further emasculates himself in the wake of female challenges to his power. During the course of the opening scenes Lear’s language alters dramatically; the quiet commands of the patriarch, assured of his position and power, are displaced by the outraged curses of a man who has wilfully brought into question his own identity and sense of place within both familial and patriarchal systems” (p. 57). Regarding that same film, Griggs writes: “Lear goes against cultural expectation when he condones female speech and in so doing he wilfully engineers his own downfall. At some unconscious level he desires death and annihilation, and it is this self-inflicted abdication not only of control but of language itself that propels him to the ‘nothingness’ that consumes him in the blank screen at the close of the film” (p. 61). In the section on King Lear and the gangster movie, Griggs writes: “The urban underworlds of the gangster movie inevitably stand in ideological opposition to the values of the legitimate world and in this sense explore the same kind of juxtaposition of conflicting values realised in both the western and King Lear, the latter exploring the clash between an old feudal order epitomised by Lear, Kent and Gloucester, and the emerging new order characterised by self-interest and synonymous with Goneril, Regan, Cornwall and Edmund” (p. 118). Shakespeare’s King Lear: The Relationship Between Text And Film was published in 2009 by Methuen Drama.


Granville Barker’s Prefaces To Shakespeare: Love’s Labour’s Lost by Granville Barker; Foreword by Richard Eyre  -  This is obviously a volume in the Prefaces series. Regarding costumes for Love’s Labour’s Lost, Harley Granville Barker has this to say: “But these scrupulous young men would be purists in tailoring too. And a comedy of affectations, of nice phrases, asks that its characters should be expressive to their boot-toes, significant in the very curl of a feather” (p. 45). Regarding male actors playing female roles, and how that affected Shakespeare’s craft, Granville Barker writes: “It may influence his choice of subject; he does not trouble with domestic drama. Without doubt it determines what he will and will not ask woman characters and boy actors to do. Their love scenes are never embarrassing. They do not nurse babies. They seldom weep. He puts them, in fact, whenever he can, upon terms of equality with men; and women have been critically quick ever since to appreciate the compliment, not well aware, perhaps, how it comes to paid them” (p. 55). About Costard, Granville Barker writes: “Costard’s is a nimble wit; we must feel that for diversion he makes himself out to be more of a fool than he is. And the actor himself must be skilful of speech and light of touch, as good jesters and stage clowns were” (p. 71). This book was originally published in 1924. This paperback edition was first published in 1993. My copy is from 1995.

Makbeth adapted by Richard Schechner  -  This play is an adaptation of Macbeth, originating from workshops with The Performance Group. Richard Schechner, who wrote and directed the play, provides notes on the project at the beginning of the book. There is also a short piece titled The Makbeth Maze, written by Brooks McNamara. The witches in this adaptation are referred to as Dark Powers. Several characters are cut from Shakespeare’s work, and many lines are reassigned, creating different relationships. For example, Makbeth asks Duncan, not Banquo, “Ride you this afternoon?” And so Duncan speaks the lines that begin “As far as will fill up the time between now and supper” (p. 6). And interestingly Banquo speaks the line, “There’s blood on thy face.” And Makbeth responds, “‘Tis Banquo’s then” (p. 14). So Makbeth’s line is delivered as a threat. In Shakespeare’s play Macbeth says to one of the murderers, “There’s blood upon thy face,” and the Murderer responds, “‘Tis Banquo’s then.” It’s an unusual and interesting adaptation. The play opened in November of 1969. The book was published in 1978.
 

Hamlet Globe To Globe by Dominic Dromgoole  -  This book recounts the tale of the theatre company that took Hamlet to basically every country on Earth in a two-year period. It not only relates interesting anecdotes, but contains plenty of information about the play itself, and it what it means to us today. About iambic pentameter, Dominic Dromgooles makes this observation: “There was a warm, happy energy in the room, and I noticed for the first time what lurks within the iambic rhythm – a hidden hope. As each gentle upturned stress occurred and passed from person to person, it pulsed a discreet energy into the speaker and listener, and beyond into the room. It gave a lift” (p. 47). Regarding actors touring Europe in the late sixteenth century, Dromgoole writes: “Amongst that list of actors are some distinguished names, including Ben Jonson and (from Shakespeare’s company) Will Kempe, George Bryan and Thomas Pope. The last two both spent time working in Kronborg Castle in Elsinore, which is a substantial clue as to how Shakespeare knew so much about the tide-splashed rocks without and the cold stone gloom within. Many question how Shakespeare knew so much of the places he wrote about, while forgetting the most powerful transmitter of information in history – conversation” (p. 55). About the narrowing focus of Hamlet (as well as other Shakespeare plays), Dromgoole writes: “When Ophelia rushes from character to character handing out rue and rosemary and columbine, it is not only the flowers she is dispersing, but also the burden of her excess of sensibility. No one is immune. Claudius disintegrates from a wise, sophisticated politician to a clumsy murderer. Laertes casts aside all niceties, social and religious, even before he jumps into his sister’s grave. Families, political groupings, conspirators… All, if set on the wrong path, twist and contort each other into instability” (p. 91). Regarding Shakespeare’s “antic disposition,” Dromgoole writes: “Hamlet knows he is in psychological trouble, and knows he needs a disguise to conceal his pain. The solution is to create a mask that is both true and not true, to create a role that fits the self” (p. 92). About Polonius, Dromgoole writes: “The world of Hamlet gets darker after Polonius’s death. For Ophelia and for Laertes catastrophically, and their grief is a measure of the emotional value of their father. In the world of the play, without Polonius’s fussy, theatrical scheming, the door is opened for the harder-nosed brutality of Claudius. Much of the wit and the comforting human smallness is bled out of Elsinore with Polonius’s passing” (p. 120). Regarding the time when the play was written, Dromgoole notes: “Hamlet the play was born at the moment when chivalry was flailing its last histrionic limbs (the Ghost is in many ways the emblem and the echo of that chivalry) before giving way to a new world of trade and globalisation” (p. 268). About the moment when Hamlet hold’s Yorick’s skull, Dromgooe writes: “In that moment he stares death, actual and bony and hollow-eyed, straight in its fleshless face, and he feels not fear, but peace and understanding. It is a peace that is accessed through history” (p. 320). Hamlet Globe To Globe was published in April, 2017. The copy I read is an uncorrected proof, so it possible there are slight changes.


Twisted Tales From Shakespeare by Richard Armour; illustrated by Campbell Grant  -  This humorous volume recounts the plots of several of Shakespeare’s plays, including Hamlet, Macbeth, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Romeo And Juliet, The Merchant Of Venice and Othello. There is also a brief biography of William Shakespeare at the beginning. In the chapter on Macbeth, Armour writes: “The witches hear some dear friends calling, and depart. ‘Fair is foul, and foul is fair,’ they comment philosophically as they leave. This must have been pretty upsetting to any moralists, semanticists, or baseball umpires who chanced to overhear them” (p. 47). Armour plays with language, which I love, even cleverly using phrases coined by Shakespeare. For example, in that chapter on Macbeth, he writes, “But the witches, perhaps not liking the way he refers to their elocution, vanish into thin air, making it slightly thicker” (p. 49). The term thin air was coined by Shakespeare in The Tempest. He also writes: “Anyhow, he is too upset to put the bloody daggers by the guards, and Lady Macbeth takes over from her lily-livered husband” (p. 52). The term lily-livered was also coined by Shakespeare, in Macbeth, though it is actually Macbeth that uses the term to describe a servant. The book also contains several humorous footnotes, such as this one, regarding the two murderers in Macbeth: “Later joined by a third, thought by some scholars to be Macbeth in disguise, but more likely an apprentice murderer, getting experience” (p. 55). (Though, actually, my copy contains a typo: “Macbath.”) In the chapter on A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Armour writes, regarding Lysander: “Then an idea comes to him. He has an aunt who lives in a town some distance away, where the marriage laws are more lax than in Athens. The town isn’t named, but it’s probably somewhere in Nevada” (p. 71). And in the chapter on The Merchant Of Venice, Armour writes: “On the scroll is written ‘All that glisters is not gold.’ The Prince is chagrined. All these years he has been saying ‘glistens’” (p. 115). In that same chapter, he writes, “‘One half of me is yours, the other half yours,’ she tells him cryptically, hoping he can add” (p. 116). By the way, in the chapter on Romeo And Juliet, Armour uses the Q1 reading, writing “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet” (p. 95). At the end, there is a short section on the sonnets, and also a bit poking fun at those people who think someone other than William Shakespeare wrote the works attributed to him. Twisted Tales From Shakespeare was published in 1957.

Thursday, October 11, 2018

Ken and Barbie as Romeo and Juliet

I was going through some stuff at my parents' house, and found the fall 1998 FAO Schwarz catalogue (it was under some tissue paper in a box that once contained Star Wars figures). Page 30 shows a special Ken and Barbie set, in which the famous dolls are dressed as Romeo and Juliet. The collector gene is undeniably part of my genetic makeup, and I've switched from collecting Star Wars toys to collecting Shakespeare books and DVDs, and yet even I don't want these dolls. Still, I thought it worth noting here. Also, a hundred dollars? Are you kidding me?

Monday, September 24, 2018

Shakespeare References in If I Should Die Before I Wake

If I Should Die Before I Wake, Michelle Morris’ moving novel about a girl suffering abuse at the hands of her father, contains several Shakespeare references. The first is to Hamlet: “I want to reach out to you, but first I must build my courage. Until I do, I will probably be like Hamlet, agonizing my life away” (p. 12). There is another reference to Hamlet later in the book: “And perhaps the slings and arrows of our outrageous relation to each other can be quantified” (p. 117). There is also a reference to The Merchant Of Venice: “What kind of payment this time, Daddy? You Shylock of my freedom. What pound of flesh will you exact so I may earn a breath of precious air?” (p. 52). And there is a reference to Romeo And Juliet: “When I opened the window he was standing right outside in the moonlight, and I could see his hands clasped together like Romeo’s, only he was saying, ‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair’” (p. 70).

The novel contains a couple of references to Macbeth. The first comes in a passage that the girl addresses to her father: “Innocent sleep, that ‘balm of hurt minds’ Macbeth speaks of, is not possible for us” (p. 139). She then continues: “We murder sleep” (p. 139). These lines are of course references to Macbeth’s speech after he has murdered Duncan. The second reference to this play comes just a few pages later: “A smell that cannot be extinguished. My body as hopeless of cleansing as Lady Macbeth’s blood-drenched hands” (p. 142).

There are also references to Othello, after Dean hands Carla his handkerchief. Carla tells him: “All right, Dean, but let’s make it a real romantic thing then. I’ll embroider some strawberries on it and give it back to you. Just like in Othello” (p. 150). Dean replies that she’ll have to explain the reference, adding “Our class read Julius Caesar” (p. 150). Carla obliges: “Well – Othello gives his wife this handkerchief embroidered with strawberries. It was one his father had given his mother years before. So to Othello, of course, it is a treasure. He gives it to Desdemona when they’re first married – as a pledge of his love” (p. 150). Dean then replies: “That means you’re Othello then. And I’m Des-mona, or whatever her name is” (p. 151). Michelle Morris then writes: “But it did seem right for us, because I understand Othello. And Dean is as beautiful as Desdemona ever was” (p. 151). Dean asks how the story turns out. Carla says: “The play? Oh. Well, it’s a tragedy, of course. So you can’t expect… I mean. Well – uh, he kills her actually” (p. 151). Dean responds: “Othello? Kills Des-mona?” (p. 151). Carla explain that Othello does love Desdemona, right to the end, to which Dean replies, “Sick.” Carla then says: “No, no. You don’t understand. It was because of Iago. And all the lies he kept telling” (p. 151). There is then a reference to Shakespeare himself: “There I was, Jessie – do you believe it? Making excuses for Shakespeare!” (p. 151).

If I Should Die Before I Wake was published in 1982. The copy I read was a first edition.

Monday, September 10, 2018

Shakespeare References in Translating LA: A Tour Of The Rainbow City

Peter Theroux’s book about Los Angeles, Translating LA: A Tour Of The Rainbow City, contains a few Shakespeare references. The first two come together in a section about a certain teacher: “They were both in her eight-grade English class, which was doing Shakespeare. ‘I’m Juliet – he’s Mercutio’” (page 159). The other references are to Hamlet, and appear in a section on the cemeteries of Los Angeles. Theroux writes: “The sarcophagus, engraved DOUGLAS FAIRBANKS 1883 – 1939, has a backdrop of marble columns and a portico with a portrait of Fairbanks in copper bas-relief. The sarcophagus is inscribed: Good Night Sweet Prince, and Flights of Angels Sing Thee to Thy Rest. Tyrone Power’s grave nearby – it is a marble bench – displays three quotations from Hamlet: ‘There is a special providence in the fate of sparrows…’ and ‘If it be now, ‘tis not to come,’ plus the ‘Good Night Sweet Prince’ passage” (pages 188-189). I haven’t been to Tyrone Power’s grave, but I have to wonder if it says “fate” rather than “fall,” for the line is “There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.” Also, the “If it be now, ‘tis not to come” line comes directly after the line about the sparrow, so that is really just one passage.

Translating LA: A Tour Of The Rainbow City was published in 1994. The copy I read was a first edition.

Troilus And Cressida (Long Beach Shakespeare Company 2018 Production) Theatre Review

Each year the Long Beach Shakespeare Company chooses a theme for its season. The theme for this season is “Seldom-Seen Shakespeare,” focusing on works not often produced. The season began with King John, and continued with All’s Well That Ends Well, and now with Troilus And Cressida. The theme was chosen by Helen Borgers, the company’s previous artistic director who passed away at the end of 2017, her vision carried out by current Artistic Director Brandon Alexander Cutts, who also directed this production of Troilus And Cressida. The company performs at the intimate Richard Goad Theatre, which seats only forty-three people. (There is now an effort underway to rename the theatre in honor of Helen Borgers.)

When the audience is let in, approximately ten minutes before the scheduled performance time, the cast is already on stage, frozen in tableau. Ten minutes is a long time to hold a pose, but they somehow manage it. The space itself contains one raised platform in the upper right portion of the stage, with two sets of stairs leading from it, and three separate entrances upstage. Just before the play begins, the stage goes dark. Then, as the lights come up, one or two actors at a time break their poses and exit, leaving just a few soldiers who engage in a brief battle scene. Agamemnon (Chadwick J. Bradbury) steps forward, unmoved by the battle that happened in front of him, and speaks the first line of the production: “Princes/What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks?” This is in fact the first line of the third scene, as this production does a bit of re-ordering of scenes, and cuts the prologue entirely (the tableau taking its place). Agamemnon finds Ulysses’ speech about Achilles and Patroclus humorous, which leads Ulysses (Brando Cutts) to turn his speech onto Agamemnon himself, which then raises the Grecian general’s ire, a nice moment. Brando Cutts is excellent here, and delivers one of the production’s best performances. I particularly like the exchange he has with Nestor (Andy Kallok).

This production then goes to the first scene of the text, in which Troilus (Aaron Joseph) tells Pandarus (Kevin McGrath) of his love for Cressida. It is interesting that this production decides to introduce the audience to the Greek camp first before getting into the story of the title characters. Troilus speaks gently, with a voice of kindness and love, in contrast to some of the more aggressive tones of other characters (and might that be part of the reason for the re-ordering of scenes?). Kevin McGrath is delightful as Pandarus, particularly in the scene where he and Cressida watch the parade of men. Probably the best performance of the production is that by Amanda Swearingen as Cressida, made all the more remarkable by the fact that she came in just four days before the play went up, after the original Cressida took ill. When we first see her, she is adorable, with a coquettish and playful air. Each man that Pandarus describes enters from the audience and takes a spot on the platform, as if they are players on a team being introduced before a championship game, a nice and fun touch. Aeneas in this production is female, played by Ryanna Dunn, who also interestingly plays Helen (so she gets to play on both teams). So Pandarus’ lines about her are changed slightly. But it is after the men exit that Cressida and Pandarus really shine. And later, I love the pleasure Pandarus takes in getting Troilus and Cressida together, even leading them off stage to the bedroom.

Thersites (Leonardo Lerma) enters like a great explosion of color and sound and movement, followed by Ajax (Beau Nelson), in great contrast to him, a pouting brute. Both turn in wonderful performances and are fun to watch. I love that Ajax raises an eyebrow when beginning to consider Ulysses’ words of praise. And I love in a later scene when Thersites does a humorous impression of Ajax, lowering his voice. In Shakespeare’s text, there is some hint that Achilles and Patroclus might be lovers (like in Ulysses’ line “With him Patroclus/Upon a lazy bed the livelong day”). In this production, their relationship is not left in any doubt. When Achilles (Robert Watson) says “no man is beaten voluntary,” Patroclus (Alexander James Salas) coughs, indicating that he likes to be beaten, and Achilles hushes him. The two men then embrace, and there is absolutely no question but that they are lovers. Patroclus is played as a rather doting, admiring and overly effeminate young lover, and not at all like a soldier. The problem with this portrayal is that when the other characters ridicule Achilles, it seems to be in part because he’s gay, and not because of his proud and lazy nature. After all, the others are upset with Achilles because he is avoiding the battlefield, not for his romantic choices; Achilles is supposed to be a tough warrior. I prefer the slightly more subtle indications of the relationship, and there are those too. For example, when Ulysses says to Achilles, “‘Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love,” he happens to be facing Patroclus; but he quickly turns back to Achilles to finish the thought, “With one of Priam’s daughters.” But then Patroclus’ speech lacks the power it would have if he weren’t playing the character so effeminately. There are also some odd choices with regards to the playing of Agamemnon. On the line “Pride is his own glass,” he seems to mimic the act of taking a sip from a cup, when the word “glass” in this case means “mirror,” not something to drink from.

I love Cressida’s playful delivery of “O foolish Cressid, I might have still held off,/And then you would have tarried.” At the end of Act IV Scene ii, after Cressida says “I will go in and weep,” she and Pandarus freeze upstage while Paris and Troilus enter below for that brief Scene iii, an interesting way to do it, for in a sense they are then present while Troilus tells Paris he will deliver Cressida to Diomedes. Once Paris (Courtney Sims) and Troilus exit, Pandarus and Cressida begin Scene iv. Though this production does not do much in the way of set dressing changes, there are two curtains which are used for certain scenes. At the beginning of Act III, a blue translucent curtain is pulled across the stage, and Pandarus, Paris and Helen play the scene behind it. So it is as if we are peeking into their private chamber, uninvited, an audience of voyeurs. On his line “To a hair,” Paris rubs his shaved pate. Later, for the first scene of Act V, the curtain is drawn across the stage again, this time with the actors on the same side of it as the audience is, so it is like we are within Achilles’ tent now. Then a white curtain is drawn across the stage, with Troilus and Ulysses on the far side of it, and Cressida and Diomedes on the closer side. This is interesting, for we are now literally on the side of Diomedes rather than Troilus, as he begins to woo Cressida. Garret Martinez is much, much too young to play Diomedes. You need someone with some power, someone that Cressida would actually be attracted to, in that role. After all, she does sleep with him, despite her professed love for Troilus. Amanda Swearingen is absolutely fantastic in this scene when Diomedes demands a token from her. And I love how Ulysses opens the curtain to reveal Troilus’ face staring in the direction that Cressida exited, a wonderful moment.

Troilus And Cressida was directed by Brandon Alexander Cutts. There is one ten-minute intermission, which comes at the end of Act III Scene i (use the intermission to meet a pig named Hamlet). The play runs through September 15th, so get your tickets soon for this seldom-seen play. By the way, in 2010 I began seeing as many Shakespeare productions as possible, with the hope of seeing all thirty-seven plays (no, I’m not counting The Two Noble Kinsmen). Troilus And Cressida was number twenty-eight for me.