Hoping a Limited Run Reappears with Joe Morton as Dick Gregory

Luckily for me, I caught Joe Morton in “Turn Me Loose” during its last week at The Westside Theatre. “Turn Me Loose” is “a play about comic genius Dick Gregory.” Based on how much I laughed for the 90-minute duration, I’d call that an accurate description.  Mind you, the play is as much about Dick Gregory the civil rights activist as it is about comedy, so there was plenty to ponder.

Joe Morton brought to vibrant and seething life Dick Gregory, a controversial comic who rose to fame just before and during the Civil Rights movement.  The audience was howling with laughter one moment, then particularly pensive as Mr. Morton enacted a dialogue between Mr. Gregory and Medgar Evers in the months prior to the latter's death.  The language, whether Mr. Morton was playing the young, the old, or middle-aged Gregory, was funny, provocative, angry, smart, and passionate. 

Joe Morton as Dick Gregory.  Photo Credit Sara Krulwich/NYT

Playwright Gretchen Law encapsulated Gregory’s extraordinary contribution to our nation’s conscience and comedy in a brief play (deftly performed on a practical, single set designed by Chris Barreca and lit by Stephen Strawbridge) with just two actors:  Mr. Morton giving a bravura performance as Mr. Gregory, and John Carlin doing captivating and imaginative work as a 60s stand-up comic, a heckler, a cabbie, and a radio interviewer, among others.  John Gould Rubin directs so that not a moment of raw, scathing wit is lost, nor is a moment of warmth for the man himself.

 

Morton as Gregory opposite John Carlin as a Radio Interviewer.  Photo credit Monique Carboni 

Every scene was engaging and thought provoking, every drop of sweat off Mr. Morton’s face endearing. 

The Westside Theatre’s downstairs performance space was an excellent venue for this penetrating production and I hope the play returns here or to another incarnation in an equally intimate space so those who missed this limited run might catch it next time around. 

Not only a fine evening of theatre at The Westside Theatre, but Dick Cavett was sitting in the row ahead of me!  Keep an eye out for a return or revival of Turn Me Loose.

~ Molly Matera, signing off to read a little not ancient enough history

Who is the Genius?

Genius is the rather ambiguous title of a film about Maxwell Perkins, who was the editor to the works of  several American literary geniuses of the first half of the 20^th century.  It’s based on the ambiguously titled biography of Perkins written by A. Scott Berg, “Maxwell Perkins:  Editor of Genius.”  Who is the genius Berg is talking about — this particular editor, or the authors whose work he nurtured to publication, novels by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and Thomas Wolfe, to name the three authors that appear in the film.  Who is the genius of the film’s title?  The writer Thomas Wolfe, or, as F. Scott Fitzgerald calls Max Perkins, the genius at friendship. 

Genius is a sweet little character study of a movie, visually convincing, gentle, welcoming the audience into its beautifully produced world (with the barest acknowledgment of the Depression).  Michael Grandage directed the script by John Logan based on Berg’s biography of the editor to Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Wolfe, and Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, to name a few. 

While Genius purports to be based on the biography, it’s only a taste, a dram, an excerpt covering the years between when young Thomas Wolfe walked into Maxwell Perkins’ office at Charles Scribner’s Sons Publishers and Booksellers on Fifth Avenue with an overlong manuscript that would eventually be whittled down to become the very long novel, “Look Homeward, Angel.”  The younger man’s death in 1938, just over a decade after he walked into Perkins’ office, ends the story of the film.  Not even a third, in fact, of Perkins’ 37-year career as an editor of some of the most remarkable American authors of the first half of the 20^th century.  But the period it covers provides a beautiful stage for Colin Firth as Perkins and Jude Law as Wolfe to play together and become men of another time. 

Colin Firth is astute, smart, and heartfelt casting for Maxwell Perkins.  Repressed yet passionate, loving and compassionate but oh so quiet that his gentle smile is always a delightful surprise.  Maxwell Perkins was a nurturer, and Firth embraces us all.

Jude Law did deep and detailed character work in bringing the volatile Thomas Wolfe to life, apparently barely recognizable to some members of the audience when I saw the film, with his dark curly hair and southern accent contributing to his bold portrayal of the volatile young writer from Asheville.

 

Colin Firth as Maxwell Perkins and Jude Law as Thomas Wolfe.
Photo Credit: Marc Brenner/Roadside Attractions

How much like Thomas Wolfe was fellow southerner F. Scott Fitzgerald in his youth and health.  Here we see Fitzgerald as a middle-aged man weighed down by responsibility and reality.  Ernest Hemingway seems a mature sportsman, subdued yet warm and friendly, and prescient of young Wolfe’s eventual betrayal of his father figure Perkins.

Each famous writer is nicely played as a human being, not a famous author whose books we all read in high school.  Dominic West excels in his brief appearance as Ernest Hemingway.  Guy Pearce is a heartbreaking F. Scott Fitzgerald whose glory days are past, and whose wild and vivacious wife Zelda has sunken into mental illness.  In his exquisite sadness, it occurred to me Fitzgerald might have been glad the television series Endeavour did an adaptation of “The Great Gatsby” in a recent episode.

This shot appears several times in the film with the more modern buildings edited out!

Nicole Kidman did fine work as Wolfe’s paramour and sponsor, Mrs. Bernstein. She looked the part of the “older woman,” without vanity, which contributed to her believability. Some of the audience didn’t recognize her, either, until they saw her name in the credits, always a compliment to an actor.

Laura Linney was superb as Perkins’ wife Louise, aghast and downtrodden when Wolfe denigrated playwriting, her passion.  She was not merely someone’s wife or mother, she is a fully developed character, loving to her husband and children, angry when he chooses his work over a family vacation, rather judgmental of the married Mrs. Bernstein while still sympathetic.  Ms. Linney has grown into a remarkably sensitive actor whose every feeling is subtly offered to us. 

There are many pieces creating the whole of a film, and each element of Genius was of its time, the late 1920s through 1930s in New York City.  Music by Adam Cork was emotive without intruding, at one with fine cinematography by Ben Davis of a timely production design by Mark Digby.  In my mind’s eye the film is almost in black and white, although I know that it wasn’t.  Art direction by Alex Baily, Gareth Cousins, and Patrick Rolfe was complemented by costume design by Jane Petrie.

 

Firth as Perkins and Law as Wolfe commuting to Connecticut
Photo Credit: Marc Brenner/Roadside Attractions

John Logan, on the advice of biographer Berg, sensibly put the oft-read book aside to write the movie.  I read an article by a fellow who had read the excellent book and was very upset with all that was left out.  The biography of Max Perkins was about his life and his 37-year career.  Such things are difficult to cover in their entirety in a theatrical film.  Logan chose an dramatic segment with a volatile writer, and did a good job of it.

Much as I was captivated by the film, when I walked away from the theatre I felt something missing, only realizing what I missed as I wrote this.  I missed that whole story, which can only be apprehended by reading A. Scott Berg’s biography of Perkins and the works of Perkins’ authors.  If you want more, read the books.  If you want to stop in for a visit to 1930’s New York City and the fascinating people who lived and worked there, see the film, Genius.

~ Molly Matera, signing off to read….so many choices….

Austen’s Story of Lady Susan Translated by Whit Stillman into Film

Love & Friendship is a pretty bit of film.  Generally, it is the British — with a few notable exceptions — who make fabulous renderings of Jane Austen novels as feature films and television miniseries, and we know that the great lady’s stories and characters are as much at home in the 20^th and 21^st centuries as they were in the 18^th and 19^th centuries.

The thing is, I’ve never been a big fan of Kate Beckinsale or Chloë Sevigny and the film Love & Friendship did nothing to dispel my indifference to them as “actors.”  In the scenes in which they appeared, I wavered between boredom and annoyance.  They were not amusing.

When, however, they were either minimal accessories to a scene or entirely absent, those scenes were far more enjoyable and witty.

Xavier Samuel was quite at home in Jane Austen’s England as Reginald DeCourcy, son and heir to Sir of the same name, and brother to the wife of Lady Susan's brother-in-law.  Reginald is a gentleman with a stick up you know where — until he falls in love with the right young woman, that is, the sweet and soulful Morfydd Clark as Frederica Vernon.  Which I suspect is not a spoiler.

 

Kate Beckinsale as Lady Susan, Xavier Samuel as Reginald DeCourcy.

Emma Greenwell embodies the sweet character with sense and sensitivity, a totally Jane Austen heroine, Catherine DeCourcy Vernon.  Her husband Charles Vernon is that favorite of Jane Austen characters, a stodgy, not terribly bright, but loving and kindly husband, who was simply and beautifully played by Justin Edward. 

Jemma Redgrave and James Fleet were flawless as Lady and Sir Reginald DeCourcy.

Jenn Murray was delightfully horrid in a marvelous Jane Austen concoction, Lady Lucy Manwaring.

Tom Bennett was naturally and appropriately silly as Sir James Martin.

Ireland substituted marvelously for Kent and Surrey, just gorgeous.

Benjamin Esdraffo’s music was just right, as was Eimer Ni Mhaoldomhnaigh’s costume design.

All in all, the film Love & Friendship was fun, but not special.   Or perhaps just not as special as I had hoped it would be.  Making a film of an epistolary novel is quite a challenge, so the screenwriter /director Whit Stillman gets points for his taste and for even trying.  However, it does not quite work, not just because of the dull leads in Ms. Beckinsale and Ms. Sevigny (although it might have been an entirely other film with actors better suited to the roles of Lady Susan and Mrs. Johnson, respectively), but because...well, perhaps it was just those two miscast actors.  Or it may just be that letters to script work better on stage than on film…  perhaps the reading of the letters with scenes described being played behind the letter-reader until they take over the scene might work nicely onstage.... Good Jane Austen characters will not be kept down.

What this film did best was inspire me to re-read the great Jane Austen’s little-known novella, Lady Susan. In fact, why not the entire canon….

~ Molly Matera, signing off to read books…on paper and in hardcover….

Shakespeare – 400 years on

I am behind my time to write about Shakespeare, about the plays, about “what Shakespeare means to me.”  I am way behind in my writing in general, so this blog for Will is, perforce, short but I hope sweet.

W is for the Wily Words he made up  

I is for his Imagination beyond compare

L is for the Laughter he showed us all around

L is for the Love he loved to describe

S is for his Shaky historical accuracy

H is for his Heroes and Heroines

A is for the Annual count of the Shakespeare plays, films, adaptations, and books I’ve enjoyed...or not....

K is for the Kaleidoscopic range of characters, places, and times he brought onstage

E is for the Energy he creates in me

S is for the Sentimental love Songs

P is for his Perspicacious Psychological insight long before Freud and Jung 

E is for the Emotions his characters juggle in the plays and poetry

A is for the Alliance of Airy Sprites and Articulate Dames….

R is for the Remarkable and Ridiculous…..words words words

E is for the End….

We all know Will’s words are in our daily talk, chats, tweets.  In the year leading up to this, the 400^th anniversary of Shakespeare’s (or Willm Shakp, William Shaksper, Wm Shakspe, William Shakspere or Willm Shakspere) death (and possibly birth), he moved from my unconscious to conscious in the following ways:

The Theatre for a New Audience (“TFANA”) production of Pericles, Prince of Tyre  — http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/2016/03/pericles-island-hopper.html

Also at TFANA, the Fiasco Theatre Company’s delightful, brisk, sharp and smart production of Two Gentlemen of Verona —

http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/search/label/Austin%20Pendleton

Daniel Sullivan’s production of Cymbeline at the Delacorte last summer —

http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/2015/08/cymbeline-or-imogen-and-false-reports.html

Which followed the early summer production of The Tempest directed by Michael Greif —

http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/2015_06_01_archive.html

Last spring, I saw a play not by Shakespeare but rather about him.  Sort of:  Something Rotten.  What a lot of fun that was on Broadway —

http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/2015_05_01_archive.html

This spring I’ve just see the Royal Shakespeare Company’s “King and Country:  Shakespeare’s Great Cycle of Kings,” comprising Richard II, Henry IV Part I, Henry IV Part II, and Henry V, playing in repertory at the Brooklyn Academy of Music.

Kenneth Branagh’s eponymous theatre company broadcast live his production The Winter’s Tale from London to New York —

http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/2016/01/branaghs-return-as-actor-and-director.html

And Hamlet at London’s National theatre, broadcast live to Queens, NY, with the ubiquitous Benedict Cumberbatch —

http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/2015/11/a-little-shakespeare-less-pinter.html

No matter how many Shakespeare plays I’ve seen, I’ll see them again in time to come.  Some will disappoint, some will exhilarate.  The plays, the good ones (no, they’re not all good) can weather all manner of interpretations, edits, stagings and filmings. I rejoice in them.

My recent breakfast reading is The Year of Lear: Shakespeare in 1606 by James Shapiro, about the events in England the year preceding Shakespeare’s writing of King Lear.  Fascinating background reading that put me in mind of last summer’s production of The Tempest in Central Park as I read Shapiro’s description of Ben Jonson’s Masque…everything’s connected.  Also reading Bill Bryson’s Shakespeare: The World As Stage, just for fun.

As always, thanks, Will.  The world would have a paucity of wondrous, witty words without you.

~ Molly Matera signing off to write about the Great Cycle of Kings playing in repertory at BAM until April 30^th.  And after that, to watch The Hollow Crown with the same four plays on film.

The Van Hove version of Arthur Miller's THE CRUCIBLE

Ivo Van Hove likes to deconstruct texts onstage, putting his stamp on other people’s ideas.  This typically means that a 2-hour play will run 3 or even 4 hours because of the extra bulk.  The “stamps” don’t necessarily add anything, but may rather detract from the original piece.

For instance, in his current version of Arthur Miller’s The Crucible playing at the Walter Kerr Theatre, he adds “supernatural” effects.  If you know Mr. Miller’s play ,or American history, you know the girls in Salem never saw a witch or a spirit.  A group of adolescent girls in Salem were trying to get themselves out of trouble for getting caught dancing in the woods in the dead of night — dancing at any time was forbidden in their culture — by pointing accusatory fingers at others.  If you don’t immediately understand (and it was quite clear in this production) that the girls were lying, you must have nodded off halfway through the first act.  So when Mr. Van Hove adds interludes of a girl levitating and the wrath of God in the way of a lightning storm with high winds blowing singed paper into the schoolroom as if there’d been an explosion in the next county, he confuses the issue.  He creates a lie on top of the lie that does not help get the point across.  At least not the point of Arthur Miller’s play.  He gives an excuse to the adults who go along with the girls and their lies and the hell they create in Salem village.  And there is no excuse for the actions of the “righteous” adults in Salem in The Crucible.

First Van Hove brings the action forward to a more modern time.  The classroom the curtain rises on had a generic bland look, the hard chairs occupied by girls in their 'tweens and teens.  They wore conservative private school pleated skirts, knee-highs and white blouses.  Modern and neat.  The scene designed by Jan Versweyveld is open and light, with a large blackboard at the back of the stage covered in drawings and occasionally words.  The greatest flaw to this scenic design is its freedom.  There is no ceiling, and the walls reach out to the edges of the stage.  It’s wide open and bright.  Salem was neither bright nor open. Just as importantly, Mr. Van Hove’s loosey goosey staging uses all the corners of the set, so the audience sitting house left or right cannot see what goes on there.  I’ve written about this issue in the past, when directors ignore the audience viewpoint by staging action where only those who can afford front and center can see it.  This is the responsibility of the director along with his designer.  This problem would not have arisen had Mr. Van Hove 1) considered the claustrophobic society that trapped his characters and 2) walked the auditorium to see what parts of his staging needed to be adjusted to the theatre.  Not everyone sits orchestra center.

The action starts on that banal classroom disrupted, desks and chairs overturned — perhaps to give the actors something to do later.  Van Hove (with his costume designer Wojciech Dziedzic) makes the Reverend Parris look like a modern Jesuit in a sloppy sweater.  The adult women wear something like loose gaucho pants with baggy tops, the men somewhat deconstructed business suits.  Once the play begins, the girls’ white blouses come untucked.  Hardly fitting for an overly restrictive society.

Abigail vs. Mary in the foreground surrounded by, L  to R, Hathorne, Parris, Danforth, Proctor.
Photo Credit 2016 Sara Krulwich, NYTimes

Jason Butler Harner as Reverend Samuel Parris did fine work, showing us the preacher’s desires for monetary recompense and the respect he believes should come with his position, revealing him to be an articulate but weak man.  It is impossible to trust that he ever truly believed the girls, but maybe that’s as it should be.

Tina Benko does her job as Ann Putnam, but still doesn’t make that hard-hearted character come to life, any more than Thomas Jay Ryan does for her husband Thomas Putnam.  Brenda Wehle does not embody Rebecca Nurse when she enters, seeming to rely too much on her age to appear a village elder.  She does not reflect the strength of character Goody Nurse has that makes the whole village respect her.

Everything was rather dreary and stiff in not-old Salem with not-old-fashioned people speaking Mr. Miller’s lines intended for 17^th century characters, until Ben Whishaw entered the playing space.  He cast the perfectly competent Mr Harner into the shade.  Whishaw, while not physically imposing, took over the stage and the theatre, with his dark voice and straightforward talk.  He embodied John Proctor, the voice of reason from an imperfect man in a world gone mad.  For the rest of the play, we only wait for him to return to the stage.  He did have a rather unfortunate habit of jumping on people, which became distracting in his penultimate scenes.  I get it.  I just don’t think it worked.

The greatest disappointment of this production was Saoirse Ronan, whose film work I quite like.  As Abigail Williams, the teenaged seductress, she was shrill, stiff, “johnny one note” throughout.  She clearly had no vocal training or prior stage experience, which is unfortunate if her film experience led her to believe all would be fixed in the editing room.  It’s easy to see why the other girls fear her, hard to see why anyone would feel “softly” toward her.

As for the other girls:  Jenny Jules’ turn as Tituba, the Reverend Parris’ slave from Barbados, is grounded and appropriately amusing until threatened into submission. Elizabeth Teeter as Betty Parris has fine powers of concentration as she’s mauled about while “sleeping,” Ashlei Sharpe Chestnut as Susanna and Erin Wilhelmi as Mercy Lewis were barely noticeable.  Standout here was Tavi Gevinson as Mary Warren.  Initially Ms. Gevinson rather annoyed me as she seemed to be attempting to channel Scarlett Johansson.  By the second half, though, she’d gathered her strength and wits and did fine work as the torn participant in the travesty that was the Salem witch trials, suffering through her dilemma:  To be a part of the in crowd and do evil is one thing.  To step outside of that crowd and do good is dangerous. 

Elizabeth Teeter, Saoirse Ronan, and Tavi Gevinson

Jim Norton played the litigious Giles Corey with heart and humor.  It was easy to believe this man was a friend of many in his community, making that community’s betrayal and murder of him and his wife all the more appalling. 

The revered Reverend Hale entered Salem full of pomp and confidence and left broken.  His blind arrogance had a great deal to do with the growth of this ridiculous story told by guilty children into an all-consuming monster.  Bill Camp was competent enough in the role but neither deep nor varied. 

By the time we met Francis Church, his wife Rebecca was already falsely imprisoned so Ray Anthony Thomas had only the opportunity to plead for justice for his wife, his friends, and himself.  His performance was on the mark for the scene that leads its hearers to assume the play is really about the McCarthy hearings and naming names.  This is echoed at the end of the play by John Proctor when he retracts his false confession because his name is all he has left.  Nicely done, Mr. Miller and Mr. Thomas.

Sophie Okonedo was rather dull as Elizabeth Proctor offering us none of the character’s layers.  I expected more of Ms. Okonedo.

Ben Whishaw as John Proctor with Tavi Gevinson as Mary Warren, and Ciarán Hinds as Deputy Governor Danforth..

I looked forward to the entrance of Ciarán Hinds as Deputy Governor Danforth in the second act, and was not disappointed.  Mr. Hinds can command a stage and every other person on it as if he were born to that power.  His embodiment of Danforth assured us that the real Danforth is still burning in hell.  The only fault was that he seemed too intelligent to be so easily taken in by Abigail Williams, especially Ms. Ronan’s Abigail.

Teagle F. Bougere as Judge Hathorne postured and recited lines, as did Michael Braun as Ezekiel Cheever.  Those characters had beliefs and flaws, but these actors did not seem to know it.

Philip Glass music underscores the story, rarely overpowering it.  Favorite scene (that Mr. Miller did not write) gave us a wolf examining the stage.  A nifty scare.

Two final points about Mr. Van Hove’s direction.  First, the staging was clumsy, the playing space overlarge.  Bring the set in a little tighter or don’t stage scenes in the far corners.  Finally, I must wonder:  Are the dull performances of some of the secondary and tertiary characters the fault of the actors or the director?  Does Mr. Van Hove prefer the characters who are not primaries to fade into the background like chairs?  Does he not bother to work with those actors to develop their performances?  If all his focus was on Ms. Ronan, he surely failed.

Somehow despite the three hours it took Mr. Van Hove to tell this tale, his production did not tell the story of the play.  It is an important story and always relevant, and this lost opportunity is a shame.

In short, I prefer Mr. Miller’s version of his play to that of Mr. Van Hove.

~ Molly Matera, signing off to re-read a play I first read when I was 12 years old.  Full disclosure:  Decades ago, I played Abigail Williams in a touring production of the play with far fewer actors and a portable set.  It was one of the joys of my life as well as an extraordinary education. Maybe it’s better to not have as big a budget as Mr. Van Hove clearly had.  Kudos to the imaginative director of that past traveling production, Eric Hoffmann.  And R.I.P. to its fine Reverend Parris, the late Michael Graves.

Pericles: The Island Hopper

Pericles, Prince of Tyre, sort of by William Shakespeare, at Theatre for a New Audience (“TFANA”), Polonsky Shakespeare Center

I haven’t seen Pericles, Prince of Tyre in decades, and when I saw the Michael Greif production downtown at the Public in the nineties, I enjoyed it as a lark.  Perhaps because of the old-fashioned theatrical effects they used, like a rumbling sheet of metal for thunder…ah the good old days.

This time around it’s directed by Trevor Nunn, whose credentials are pretty darned good.  And yet…. perhaps too good.  Pericles must surely be Shakespeare’s oddest and even most doubtful play.  Certainly it’s doubtful that Shakespeare had a hand in the first “half.”  Occasionally the verse sounds like Shakespeare — the second half of the play, for instance, flows much better than the first.  The first, however, is rather like a jiggly early black-and-white film being rolled manually.  It moves in starts and stops, so the story jumps and starts as well.

Don’t get me wrong.  This production has quite a few good points.  I’m guessing that the play’s the thing that gets my goat.  It has old stories linked together only by Pericles, with no call to think the stories are from the same eon.  Most importantly, if I captained or owned a ship and I saw Pericles coming, I’d ban him from my boat.  The man is bad luck.

The focus of the stark set was a striking bronze disk at the back of the stage.  While it reminded us of the poorly used bright disk used to blind the audience in last year’s Antigone [http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/search/label/Antigone] at BAM, this one was used to much better effect.  The bronze disk looked battered, then patterned, then glowed around the edges, then opened at center, sometimes into a doorway, large or small, sometimes to appear a porthole to view the play’s storms at sea.  All sorts of worlds and images live behind the bronze disc, including one that allows old Gower the storyteller to materialize, seemingly a ghost in another dimension, by stepping into our dimension and onto the stage. Raphael Nash Thompson’s practiced voice booms out telling the tale from days gone by, an old tale, of Prince Pericles.  Often he sings it — there’s a lot of singing in this production, and it is very fine.  Gower is amused and amusing although at times pushing the lesser language a bit too hard.

  

The next to enter the thrust stage is Pericles, Prince of Tyre, as depicted by Christian Camargo.  Full disclosure:  I am not a fan of Mr. Camargo.  I find him superficial, line-driven instead of character driven.  In short, I typically do not believe him to be the character he purports to be.  His performance as Pericles was not atypical.

The cast of Pericles at TFANA (Photo: Richard Termine)

Pericles is a foolish young prince, ready to follow in the footsteps of other foolish princes who vie for the hand of a king’s daughter in Antioch.  This is the story with a shocking riddle.  Since it’s perfectly clear what the answer to the riddle is, and only Pericles has solved it, one wonders if the other princes were too afraid to say it out loud.  Their skulls, perched on poles seen through that wonderful portal at the back of the stage, are a clear warning to any princes who want the king’s daughter.  The King of Antioch, in a rather operatic performance by Earl Baker Jr., isn’t willing to give up his daughter to marriage, since he is committing incest with her.  His daughter, nicely played by Sam Morales, is not as enamored of her father as he is of her, so earns a bit of sympathy.  But not from Pericles.  The scenes in Antioch set the tone of the play in which royals are clothed richly, but the style is dependent on the character.  The King of Antioch is in a billowing and shiny fabric in a rich jewel tone.  His daughter is in a translucent version. Costume designer Constance Hoffman does a fine job differentiating the island nations in dressing the characters. 

The last particular person we meet in Antioch is Thaliard, whom the peevish King orders to find and kill Pericles for guessing the riddle and becoming a threat to the king’s standing in the world.  Reputation, reputation.  Thaliard is marvelously played by Oberon K.A. Adjepong, who reappears in Tyre without achieving his goal.

The scenes in Tyre are perhaps the dullest with the most tangled language.  Here is where we cannot blame the actors or director but rather the sloppy transmission of the play through the ages.  Philip Casnoff as Helicanus is stuffy and pompous and rather monotonous, so I was never really sure if he was loyal to Pericles or not.  Pericles and Helicanus decide the safest thing for the former to do is to travel until Antiochus gets tired of chasing him or, preferably, dies.  This is not merely to protect Pericles’ life — Antiochus is not above making war against Tyre in order to punish Pericles, based upon an alleged slight.  To avoid involving his kingdom in his troubles, Pericles loads his ships and travels.

The beautifully designed theatre allows for many entrances so the actors in famine-devastated Tarsus crawl moaning onto the stage from the rear of the house.  Will Swenson is very effective here as Cleon, Governor of Tarsus, although he often relies too heavily on his beautiful voice.  As his wife Dionyza, Nina Hellman goes from grateful to villainous through the course of the play and excels at both (and then takes a turn as an unrecognizable Goddess Diana).  Pericles’ arrival with food for the starving nation makes him a beloved hero in Tarsus, but he continues his travels.

Pericles’ first shipwreck lands him alone on the beach at Pentapolis, where apparently the people are very nice and generous.  In a tedious scene, three fishermen talk about nothing on the beach until the bedraggled shipwreck victim comes upon them.  They help him to enter a jousting contest for the favor of the King of Pentapolis, Simonides, who is warmly and wittily played by John Rothman.  The various young men jousting are also vying for the affection of the king’s daughter, Thaisa, a lovely young woman who is as kind as her father, played by Gia Crovatin.  In his battered armor and torn clothes, Pericles (still utterly charmless as he is still played by Mr. Camargo) wins her heart, the king approves, and the couple is married.  It is in Pentapolis that Pericles learns of the death of his father, whom we did not meet when we were in Tyre, so he must take upon himself the yoke of leadership.  He and his now pregnant wife Thaisa head back to Tyre.  Which, alas, must be accomplished by boat.

 

Christian Camargo, Gia Crovatin.  (Photo:  Henry Grossman)

The second storm at sea is enacted onstage by actors swinging on ropes, and Thaisa screaming as her time comes near.  She is accompanied by her servant Lychorida, well played by Patrice Johnson Chevannes.  Thaisa’s child is born healthy, but the mother apparently dies in childbirth.  Thaisa’s body is placed with ritual, jewels, and gold into a coffin and sent overboard as the sailors try to save the ship.  Pericles names his daughter Marina and lands next back at Tarsus, where he leaves the upbringing of his now motherless daughter to his old friends Cleon and Dionyza.  They are delighted to take in the beautiful child, particularly since Dionyza has her own daughter and can bring them up together.  Pericles leaves his wife’s old nurse Lychorida with his daughter and goes off to Tyre.

Meanwhile, on another island nation, Ephesus, a coffin washes ashore and is brought to the local lord, Cerimon, who is a physician.  Earl Baker Jr. reappears in this much less showy role, and does very nice work as he inhabits this primitive physician.  Cerimon discovers that the body in the coffin is not dead after all.  Thaisa, believing her husband and daughter dead in a shipwreck, goes off with Cerimon to the temple of Diana where she will live her life as a votaress of that order.  

As in The Winter’s Tale, 16 years pass so that the baby will be a young woman for the second half of the play.  Marina, still in Ephesus with Dionyza and Cleon, has grown to be perfect and beautiful and virtuous.  Marina’s nurse Lychorida has died, leaving her alone with Cleon and Dionyza, whose daughter, while sweet, is a clod next to Marina, which is demonstrated onstage as the dear friends dance together – Sam Morales reappears in the silent role of Dionyza’s daughter, and is delightful.  All the boys fall for Marina, so Dionyza decides she must die.  She calls upon Leonine (well played by Zachary Infante), a servant who clearly is infatuated with Marina, to kill the girl.  He fails, and pirates come and take her away to Mytelene, where they sell her to a bawd, who is hilariously played by Patrice Johnson Chevannes. 

Earl Baker Jr., Christian Camargo, Lilly Englert, Gia Crovatin, and Raphael Nash thompson.  (Photo: Henry Grossman) 

Lilly Englert plays Marina.  I’ve seen her work before and enjoyed it, but this time I just could not fall for her virtuous Marina.  Physically she was all she should be, fearful, proud, disdainful.  But Ms. Englert could not convince me that this girl could convert the pander and the customers to just sit and listen to her talk or sing or dance.   Tough role, Marina.

Meanwhile back in Tarsus, Cleon berates his wife but can do nothing as they all believe Marina is dead.  When Pericles returns for his grown daughter, he is shown her gravestone.  Devastated, he vows to never change his clothes, cut his hair, or bathe and goes off in another ship, this time with his buddy Helicanus.  They arrive in Mytelene, and the converted Governor hopes that Marina can convince the man to speak, eat, live again.  Marina sings with a friend, gets no response, talks to him, touches him.  She gets a response to that, and it is rage.  They discover themselves to one another and all is well — this scene should be magical, and while Mr. Camargo is a bit more believable than usual, the scene falls flat and feels forced.  Pericles is transformed to a man who must take revenge on his old friend Cleon, but first must make a sacrifice to Diana, which means going to Ephesus, where, you guessed it, the father and daughter are reunited with Thaisa. 

At last, it’s almost over.

Director Nunn has cast a threesome of divergent actors as the threesomes that appear in the many locales of the play:  In Tyre, they are three unnamed lords, in Pentapolis three unnamed fishermen, and the three reappear in Ephesus and Mytelene individually.  These actors include one of my favorites at TFANA, John Keating, another who is not my favorite Zachary Infante, and a third with whom I am not yet familiar, Ian Lassiter.  Each one does his best work when not part of a threesome — Keating funny and touching as the pander in Mytelene, Infante very good as the reluctant murderer in Tarsus, and Lassiter grown to a three-dimensional human as the converted Governor Lysimachus in Mytelene. Keating is fine in all his roles, clearly the most experienced Shakespearean actor of the three.

Robert Jones’ scenic design is marvelous, in concert with Stephen Strawbridge’s lighting design.  Fights by J. Allen Suddeth were rather disappointing, but the choreography by Brian Brooks was pleasing, as were music and songs by Shaun Davey.  The evening begins with music, string instruments and percussion, all very well done by Pigpen Theatre Co., with John Blevins, Philip Varricchio, and Jessica Wang beautifully accompanying the action of the play from the mezzanine level of the theatre.

All in all, a pretty good production of a difficult and rather nonsensical play.  The designers, director, and performers all used the space of the Samuel H. Scripps Mainstage to its fullest extent and did their best with a “mouldy tale.”*  If you’ve seen Pericles, you needn’t see it again.  If you haven’t, this production at TFANA may be worth your time, if you’ve got 2 ¾ hours to spare. 

  

*Ben Jonson on Pericles, “Ode to Himself” (1631)

~ Molly Matera, signing off....not to re-read Pericles.

Branagh's Return as Actor and Director: This Time I Could See It All

Kenneth Branagh Theatre Company (Live) broadcast of William Shakespeare’s “The Winter’s Tale”

The Kenneth Branagh Theatre Company’s inaugural season plays Shakespeare’s “The Winter’s Tale” in London’s Garrick Theatre, a little jeweled box of candy.  The heavy, dark red curtain rose on a wintry scene – a sparse set given warmth by the Victorian Christmas tree surrounded by wrapped gifts and eventually members of a happy court.  As always, no one addresses God in Shakespeare, but Apollo is the god they pray to, and who freely shows his displeasure when disrespected.  

As ever, kudos to Christopher Oram for his thoughtful scenic and costume designs, as well as Neil Austin‘s beautiful lighting design.  Christopher Shutt’s sound design seemed to stutter a bit in the opening moments when the actors appeared to be in overly full voice and far from subtle.  Within a few moments, however, the sound evened out and was thereafter so well done that one did not note it.

Happily, the Garrick Theatre has a proscenium stage.   Some readers may recall that the last time I reviewed something directed by Kenneth Branagh I was rather annoyed with him and his co-director/ choreographer Rob Ashford.  [If you’ve forgotten, see http://www.mollyismusing.blogspot.com/2014/06/sound-only-signifying-nothing-or.html].  The advantage of a proscenium stage production is that Messrs. Branagh and Ashford can actually stage the play so that everyone in the auditorium can see everybody on stage.  Nice.

With regard to Mr. Branagh the actor, I must say that this is the first time (of three or four) I’ve seen “The Winter’s Tale” and given a damn about Leontes.  Every time that horrible man is unforgiveable, which makes the final sappy scene unbearable.  Kenneth Branagh is such a good actor that he delved into the man and found his heart and showed it to us.  Well done.

Dame Judi Dench in The Winter's Tale.

Dame Judi Dench is a powerful Paulina, here immediately introduced as an intimate of the family playing with the King’s son Mamillius (in a scene not penned by Shakespeare).  While Paulina is usually the same generation as Leontes, here she’s clearly a friend of his granny’s.  This is not a complaint:  Judi Dench can do anything as far as I’m concerned.  It’s just not how I generally think of Paulina, since everyone in the play ages 16 years between Acts I and IV.  Except those who die, of course.

Michael Pennington does fine comedic work as Paulina’s beleaguered husband Antigonus, loyal to his king and to his princess to the very last. Miranda Raison is a serene, confident and loving Hermione, well matched to Branagh’s Leontes.

Miranda Raison as Hermione and Kenneth Branagh as Leontes

In the opening scenes we see a convivial gathering of Leontes’ court, to which his childhood friend Polixenes, King of Bohemia, has been visitor for almost 9 months.  Hadley Fraser’s wide-ranging portrayal of Bohemia in the opening to a man some years older in the latter part of the play was always on the mark.  We also meet Camillo, Leontes’ loyal subject who is too good to do his king’s bidding.  John Shrapnel portrays the conscience of both kings he serves excellently. 

John Colgrave Hirst was a very tall, very funny Clown, Tom Bateman a fine Florizel, the young prince in love with the shepherdess Perdita, who is charmingly played by Jessie Buckley.  There were no sour notes in this cast, and I wish I were in London to see the entire season played by this company.

Extra:  During the intermission (a.k.a. the Interval) Rob Brydon spoke “The Shakespeare Poem” by Bernard Levin to illustrate how often in our daily discourse we quote Shakespeare.  Delightful.

My one gripe was not with the production itself but rather the filming of the production.  The “cinema broadcast” was directed by Benjamin Caron, who has also worked with Mr. Branagh on the PBS series Wallander.  Clearly he likes to photograph Mr. Branagh, unfortunately to the detriment of the production, Ms. Dench, Mr. Shrapnel, and the audience.  We want to see Paulina when she is haranguing Leontes, not only Leontes’ reaction.  Reactions are important and Mr. Branagh does them very well, but widen the shot.  We want to see Camillo as we hear him plead with Leontes, not merely Leontes’ reaction.  Widen the shot.  Show us the excellent staging by Branagh and Ashford.  This is not television.

The “film” of the play aside, this was a fine production of a difficult play, and I look forward to more from this company.
 

~ Molly Matera signing off and belatedly wishing you all a Happy, Healthy New Year.