Fame or Famine

This past Friday, June 24th, Andy and Charlie and I moseyed down to the Oak Park Festival Theatre to see their rendition of Shakespeare’s The Comedy of Errors, directed by Jack Hickey.

Despite my very best efforts to be a hideous crank and judgy about everything I could get my hands on, I found very little to dislike about the show. It was a concept piece, but only in the barest of bones, and the simplistic set and casual costuming made it easy to look past the convention to the performances. There was a minimalist element to the production that did a great job of highlighting the language, and, let’s face it, the strongest element of any Shakespearean production is the Shakespeare. I despise heavily concepted Shakespeare, so excellent job stifling the impulse to over-create, Jack!

It certainly didn’t harm the production to be set in the middle of a gorgeous park on a beautiful summer evening. The setting of the play was the Caribbean, which jived nicely with the surrounding ambiance. The music was complementary without being overwhelming, and the sound system was superb. Despite the frequent airplanes overhead, I caught every gorgeous word.

The performances were a mixed bag, generally speaking, but I thought each performer juggled their respective balls with decent aplomb. There was some initial over-excitement that translated badly, but as the play progressed and the various individuals settled in to the rhythm of the piece, characters began to fall into place. Some notable moments and characters:

Dan Rodden as Antipholus of Syracuse was energetic and talented, if a little accustomed to his own grandiosity. I knew that he was particularly gifted at comedy, you see, because early on in the performance he paused joyfully after a raunchy joke to wait for the laughter. Or maybe applause. How will you know if the audience wants to throw roses unless you give them an opportunity? Fortunately, it was a classic actah mistake that wasn’t repeated, and as the show went on he relaxed into the role well and was enjoyable to watch.

Kelly Clark was surprising as Adriana. At first I was determined not to like her. The performance began with lots of walking back and forth on the stage and such egregious hand-wringing; I thought that she’d started on number nine and could only get to ten. Luckily, we found out that Kelly’s Excitement-O-Meter goes up to eleven, and while I couldn’t understand why anyone would be in love with Adriana (a classic problem with the role) and her heaving, tortured bosom, I thought that Kelly made her never-ending dramatics at least consistent, if not exactly believable.

Katherine Banks played Luciana very well, and her version of the character was one of the highlights of the show. Luciana is written to be a temperate foil to Adriana’s drama queen tendencies, but it’s relatively easy for the actor playing Luciana to absorb all the wailing. Instead, Katherine managed to hold her own on stage with both Kelly and Dan and remain grounded but interesting to watch. Her scene with Dan, in particular, was attention-getting and delightful in its relative calm.

The Dromios Esteban Cruz and John Marco, always together, did a more than passable job being believable as brothers. However, I have to say that Esteban did a better job at making the jokes without making them as cartoony as they could have been. Frankly, both Dromios could have relied upon their audiences a little more to get the jokes. Most of the people drawn to a performance of The Comedy of Errors aren’t likely to be totally unfamiliar with the necessary vernacular to get fat jokes. It smacked of a directing error to me.

In fact, generally speaking, while aNUNciating the RrrrrOLE is important, I thought that for some reason most of the performers had mixed success with feeling comfortable in the language. I wanted to see more of Dan and Stephen in the Antipholi; more of Esteban and John in the Dromios. The extensive posturing that is the trap of Shakespearean acting took attention away from more than one scene. More imagery, kids, less stumping around.

On the other hand, more blocking, please. Walking from one corner of the stage and back again, if you do it eleventymillion times, is more monotonous than simply standing still and talking. Look for motivation in your movement. Don’t just move because you’re nervous. Take that nervous energy and put it in your voice, dammit. Again, sloppy blocking smacks of a directorial deficiency to me.

A few quick notes, in case someone mentioned above reads this, and because I’m a compulsive picker: