It's generally a sense of duty that compels parents to attend theatrical performances that involve their offspring. However, we didn't suffer at all this evening by attending A Comedy of Errors at the Young Lady's school (she helped design and build the set and was the Usher Captain for all four performances). This performance was distinguished by colorful Greek/Mediterranean costuming (ca. maybe 1800), a sun-drenched set that appeared to be white stucco building fronts (with many doors) around a town well, resolutely colorblind casting, solid acting in the key roles, and comedic pacing that many professional troupes might envy.
A Comedy of Errors (review)
The play opened with a pre-show carnival, that involved juggling, belly-dancing (quite good), street vendors giving out scarves and dried roses, and face-painting for the younger attendees. When the show actually started, the audience was primed to be amused. Egeon's long tale in the first scene might have snapped them right out of that mood - but a trio of puppeteers wandered down by the footlights and proceeded to act out his story with comically primitive hand-puppets, both prolonging the silly mood and making the tale more understandable to those not at ease with Shakespearian language.
Having avoided a slow start, the young cast proceeded to make merry with boundless energy - and lots of female-to-male cross-dressing. Both Dromios were played - and well-played - by female students, as were the various merchants. Luciana was African American, her sister Adriana Caucasian, and the same reversal was true of the two Antipholi (and was, incidentally, accurately portrayed in the puppet show). None of it mattered: all four handled the difficult lines skillfully, with good diction and excellent projection, as well as on-the-beat comedic timing. Delightful touches included a wandering violinist from the opening carnival who kept reappearing to underscore Adriana's self-pitying monologues (much to her annoyance), flamboyant gesturing and pantomime by the Dromios (one of whom was suddenly doing the Macarena at one point), the four hunky (and well-oiled) palanquin bearers who brought in the Courtesan (possibly an equal-fanservice answer to the belly-dancers), and an Antipholus leaning out of a window after a hectic chase scene to intone wearily "Dromio, Dromio, wherefore art thou Dromio?" - causing the freshmen audience members who are struggling through Romeo and Juliet this semester to lose it entirely.
Audience involvement was so complete that when Egeon was re-united with his long-lost wife - now the Abbess - in the last scene, and they embraced, the audience as one exclaimed "Awwwwww! "
A merry time was had by all!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-15 11:56 pm (UTC)Yes .. and with me, it's a big nostalgia kick, too. I was also on stage crew in high school!
We actually saw it in its most finished form, at closing night. Apaprently opening night did have a few glitches.