STC's 'Othello' on the Jersey Shore

Ben Turner (Iago) and Wendell Pierce (Othello) in Othello, Shakespeare Theatre Company. Photo: Teresa Castracane

In Simon Godwin's new production of Othello, mounted by Shakespeare Theatre Company at the Harman Center and seen last week, the action has been updated to "a modern capital" and "the time is now." The Moor and his soldiers are not Venetian guards and sailors, but a general and his men in an American military unit. Clearly members of a lower class, they serve at the pleasure of their wealthy betters. Wendell Pierce, familiar from his television roles in The Wire and Treme, sports a blue beret and military uniforms. He woos and marries Desdemona (Olivia Cygan), the daughter of a wealthy family, and serves a Duke of Venice (Todd Scofield) wearing a suit like an American president. The war scenes, with explosions and warships firing, seemed to evoke the Iran conflict, although it is timed with that war only coincidentally.

Ben Turner, who had an affecting turn as Macduff in Godwin's Macbeth two years ago, makes a cagey, street-wise Iago. The backwards baseball cap and gangster attitude implied the Jersey Shore more than his clipped American accent, not particularly specific to any part of the country. Melanie Field reinforces the idea as his smart-talking wife, Emilia, costumed in somewhat trashy outfits (costumes by Susan Hilferty and Sarita P. Fellows). By the end of the play, she becomes the fierce defender of truth in a world of lies. Daniel Velez's Roderigo and an ensemble of misfit grunt soldiers break into hip-hop dances (choreography by Jonathan Goddard) and have a rowdy kegger in the drinking scene that disgraces Lucas Iverson's forthright, even goofy Cassio, who was a very funny drunk.

Melanie Field as Emilia in Othello, Shakespeare Theatre Company. Photo: Teresa Castracane
Turner had the strongest handle on the rhythm of Shakespeare's language, shifting effortlessly from prose to poetry and back again, in what is the play's longest role. He made savvy use of a soldier's barking tone at times, especially to show deference, real or ironic, to a superior. Pierce tended to roll too quickly through his lines, choosing words to punch and eliding others, but his transformation from loving husband to jealous murderer moved in a believable arc. Cygan's Desdemona, beautiful and heart-breaking though she was, felt overshadowed by Field's more raucous Emilia and Giovanna Drummond's bubblegum-smacking Bianca. Although Shakespeare's songs are cut from the drinking scene, the modernized rendition of Desdemona's Willow Song, with a sort of background vocal by Emilia (music by Shiloh Coke), worked remarkably well.

Othello runs through June 28. shakespearetheatre.org

RSC's "Hamnet" is the thing at Shakespeare Theatre Company

Kemi-Bo Jacobs (Agnes Hathaway) and Rory Alexander (William Shakespeare) in Hamnet, Royal Shakespeare Company, at Shakespeare Theatre Company. Photo: Kyle Flubacker

For the first time in Shakespeare Theatre Company's history, the company is hosting a production and cast from Royal Shakespeare Company. The British troupe's intriguing staging of Hamnet, Lolita Chakrabarti's adaptation of the recent novel by Maggie O'Farrell, opened this week at Harman Hall, seen Friday evening. Those who have seen the recent film adaptation of this story about William Shakespeare and his family, directed by Chloé Zhao, know that Shakespeare's wife, named Agnes Hathaway in the story (a version of her name found in some official documents), is depicted as a mystical figure adept at herbal cures and second sight. Chakrabarti adds the additional twist that she is black, and her children with Shakespeare bi-racial. (A program essay by Farah Karim-Cooper, recently appointed director of the Folger Shakespeare Library, examines the historical evidence of such multiculturalism in Tudor England.)

Though not historically accurate in terms of Shakespeare's family, neither is O'Farrell's basic premise, that Shakespeare wrote his play Hamlet as a way to mourn the death of his son with Hathaway, the twin named Hamnet. Shakespeare did have twins named Judith and Hamnet, and the latter died at age 11 during an outbreak of the bubonic plague. (Shakespeare scholar Jonathan Bate, who sees no connection between Shakespeare's son and his most famous play, has speculated instead that Twelfth Night, with its story of fraternal twins reunited after a tragic separation, has a more plausible resonance with the story of Shakespeare and his children.)

The cast in this production is uniformly excellent, beginning with the believable chemistry between Kemi-Bo Jacobs's proud Agnes and Rory Alexander's writing-obsessed William. The children, played by Ajani Cabey (Hamnet), Saffron Dey (Judith), and Ava Hinds-Jones (the elder sister, Susanna), add poignant and sometimes mysterious touches to the play. Some of the strongest performances came in the supporting cast, beginning with the fierce, even horrifying mothers of Penny Layden (Mary Arden, Shakespeare's mother) and Nicky Hobday (Joan, Agnes's stepmother). Nigel Barrett is imposing as Shakespeare's abusive father, John, but equally humorous as Will Kempe, one of the players in Shakespeare's company.

Appropriately this theatrical adaptation draws more connections to other Shakespeare plays than the movie. Another twin-centered play, The Comedy of Errors, made a hilarious appearance, as did a touching reference to the grief of Laertes, who crawls into the grave with the coffin of his sister, Ophelia, in Hamlet: Alexander's Shakespeare did something similar when Hamnet was buried in the play. A number of references to the horrors of acting indoors, with a crowd of people all on top of one another, got some solid laughs. The bare set of wooden beams, ladders, and upper levels (sets and costumes by Tom Piper) suggests both the various homes in Stratford and the structure of the Globe. Music and sound (designed by Simon Baker) and atmospheric lighting (Prema Mehta) helped create some of the story's more mysterious moments.

Hamnet runs through April 12 at Harman Hall. shakespearetheatre.org

Shakespeare Theatre hunts down rarely performed "Wild Duck"

(L to R) Alexander Hurt (Gregers Werle) and Nick Westrate (Hjalmar Ekdal) in Ibsen's The Wild Duck at Shakespeare Theatre.
Photo: Gerry Goodstein

When a production of Henrik Ibsen's dark play The Wild Duck comes to a theater near you, you should go see it. Ibsen mined some of the complex relationships of his own family to explore the concept of the "life-lie," as it is described in the play. These personal illusions, which make life bearable for the people who hold them, are torn away repeatedly due to the self-righteous interference of a vengeful character named Gregers Werle. Shakespeare Theatre Company's production, directed by artistic director Simon Godwin and seen earlier this fall at Brooklyn's Theatre for a New Audience, made for a compelling evening in the theater at a viewing on Wednesday evening at the Klein Theatre. Fair warning: as the regular groans and sounds of outrage from the audience witnessed, this play, as adapted by David Eldridge, is not for the faint of heart.

The family at the heart of the play, the Ekdals, has a number of skeletons in the closet. Old Ekdal, played with eccentric mannerisms by David Patrick Kelly, was cheated by his former business partner, Håkon Werle, the head of a prosperous family among whom Ekdal's son, Hjalmar Ekdal, was raised. To expiate his sense of guilt, Håkon has given Old Ekdal a regular pension and supported Hjalmar financially so that he could start a career as a photographer and marry and have a family. He has even put a potential wife in Hjalmar's path, his one-time maid Gina, but to cover up his own indiscetion instead of being solely for Hjalmar's good. Håkon's son, Gregers, who has long resented his father and is now determined to rip away Håkon's pious falsehoods, destroys the lives of everyone in the process.

Alexander Hurt brought a steady, almost maniacally calm pacing to the disruptive character of Gregers, whose case of "virtue-fever," as one translation put it, drives him to all of his misguided honesty. (The cadence of Hurt's voice and his still stage presence did bring to mind at times the acting style of his famous father, William Hurt, a connection that is not mentioned in the program.) Nick Westrate's Hjalmar, a bundle of enthusiasm and self-delusion, impressed more than his Victor Frankenstein last season, while Melanie Field brought the same sort of long-suffering steadfastness to his wife, Gina, as she did with Sonya in Uncle Vanya. Robert Stanton made a tall, quite insufferable Håkon, realizing him as a man who cannot accept that his attempts to make things right, without really accepting fault, convince no one around him.

Maaike Laanstra-Corn gave Hedvig, Hjalmar and Gina's daughter, a convincing teenage awkwardness, although her emotional excesses in the play's tragic ending rang false at times. The versatile Matthew Saldivar proved an exemplary foil to the wrong-headed Gregers as Relling, the doctor who befriends Hjalmar and tries to see him through these troubles, while Mahira Kakkar's Mrs. Sørby (the housekeeper who will marry her employer) and Katie Broad's Petterson filled out the Werle household with self-serving smugness.

The scenic design (Andrew Boyce) and costumes (Heather C. Freedman) anchor the action in the play's original late 19th century of candles and oil lamps. An interesting aspect of Eldridge's adaptation is the character of Jensen, the hired waiter at the (truncated) opening dinner scene at the Werle household: Alexander Sovronsky, music director of the production, plays him as a violist who then strolls in and out between scenes to link the play together with musical excerpts, including pieces by Norwegian violinist Ole Bull, for atmospheric effect.

The Wild Duck runs through November 16. shakespearetheatre.org

STC's Merry Wives of Harlem

Nick Rashad Burroughs (center), Felicia Curry, Jordan Barbour, Sekou Laidlow, and JaBen Early in The Merry Wives of Windsor at Shakespeare Theatre Company. Photo: Teresa Castracane

No one is likely to claim that Shakespeare's The Merry Wives of Windsor is sacrosanct. Few would complain about updating the play's action to our era; in fact, freshening up this somewhat homely farce could be an improvement. Playwright Jocelyn Bioh has moved the action from the town of Windsor, outside London, to 116th Street in the midst of Harlem, with the Fords running a laundromat and the Pages a hair-braiding salon. Bioh, who grew up in Washington Heights as the daughter of immigrants from Ghana, jettisons much of the original text in favor of authentic evocation of various black dialects. Shakespeare Theatre Company has brought this version to Washington, seen Friday evening.

Leading a cast of mostly company debuts, Oneika Phillips and Felicia Curry play Madam Ekua Page and Madam Nkechi Ford, respectively, the former of Ghanaian origin and the latter of Nigerian descent. Like Shakespeare's wives, they rule the roost, but Bioh has soft-pedaled or eliminated most of the original sexist language. While the women proved consistently funny and entertaining, Nick Rashad Burroughs's over-the-top jealousy as Mister Nduka Ford, stole the show with his antic bluster. His alter-ego as Brook, costumed as a dreadlocked Rastafari with an outlandish Jamaican accent, was a highlight. JaBen Early’s more sedate Mister Kwame Page receded into the background as a result.

Last week, STC announced that the originally cast Falstaff, Lance Coadie Williams, had to withdraw from the production for personal reasons. Happily, Jacob Ming-Trent, who created the role in the New York premiere, recorded and broadcast on PBS's Great Performances, and is familiar from Watchmen and other television shows, stepped in. A sort of Fat Albert with a propensity for crooning like Barry White, his Falstaff seemed more absurd than abhorrent, which helped to lighten the often mean-spirited vengeance of Shakespeare’s play. Bioh reduced the fat knight’s trio of henchmen to just one, Pistol, played with confidence by Bru Aju, a strong contradiction to his dual role as the cowardly Slender.

The Welsh parody of Sir Hugh Evans becomes a Liberian pastor (the genial Sekou Laidlow), while the foppish Doctor Caius, given to self-important French affectations, is ingeniously transformed into an eccentric doctor of Senegalese origin. As strongly hinted at through the fey characterization of Jordan Barbour, he is only too happy to end up married to a man in the final scene in Windsor (Morningside?) Park.

Kelli Blackwell’s fast-talking Mama Quickly did her best to advance the causes of all three suitors for the hand of the Pages’ daughter, Anne (Peyton Rowe). Fenton, cross-dressed as a woman and played earnestly by Latoya Edwards, won this competition only by subterfuge but was welcomed into the family. Howard University-trained Rebecca Celeste earned the evening’s broadest laughs as the laundry worker who had to push the cart of foul clothes in which Falstaff escaped Ford’s jealous rage.

Anchoring the musical part of the ensemble was Shaka Zu, who led some call-and-response improvisations with the audience, aided by a conga drum. The Windsor Park fairy scene was memorably transformed into an African masquerade, complete with colorful masks and raffia skirts (choreography by Ashleigh King). The sets, designed cleverly by Lawrence E. Moten III, evoked a row of Harlem shopfronts, with colorful African-inspired costumes designed by Ivania Stack to divert the eyes even more.

The Merry Wives of Windsor runs through October 5. shakespearetheatre.org

Forget if Frankenstein was the scientist or the monster - it's all about Elizabeth

Rebecca S'manga Frank as Elizabeth in Frankenstein, Shakespeare Theatre Company.
Photo: DJ Corey Photography

Emily Burns is familiar to theater-goers lucky enough to experience last spring's Macbeth, starring Ralph Fiennes. After adapting Shakespeare's text for that production, the London-based playwright has updated Mary Shelley's Gothic novel for her own direction at Shakespeare Theatre Company, seen Saturday evening at the Klein Theatre. Adaptations of Frankenstein abound, as recently as last year's uneven film version, Poor Things. Burns has also pursued a feminist reading of the work, not by feminizing the monster but by viewing the entire story through the character of Elizabeth, given "the agency of a contemporary woman," as the program note put it.

If it's been a while since you read the novel, Elizabeth is the girl adopted by Victor Frankenstein's parents. Mary Shelley made changes to the character as she revised the book: in the original version, Elizabeth and Victor were cousins, but in later versions she was an unrelated foster daughter. In both cases she is betrothed to her step-brother, but their wedding night turns bloody when the monster that Victor brought into the world, in a fit of jealousy, murders Elizabeth. (The character, who never knows her biological mother, has much in common with Mary Shelley herself, raised by a stepmother not as kindly disposed to her at all.)

(Spoilers ahead) Burns centers the action in the Frankenstein family home, near the end of the novel. Victor Frankenstein has returned from his studies in Ingolstadt, but he is not being at all truthful about what happened there or why his father had to nurse him back to health. Disaster strikes when Victor's younger brother, whom Elizabeth raised almost like a child, is murderered, and the family maid, Justine, is arrested and executed for the crime. Burns alters the ending significantly: rather than the monster murdering Elizabeth, there is a somewhat nonsensical story about her and Victor's child, left to an orphanage and somehow raised by the monster.

Rebecca S'manga Frank made a striking STC debut as Elizabeth, a 19th-century waif transformed by a modern sense of independence and frankness. As the downtrodden Justine, Anna Takayo made an equally worthy debut, bringing a remarkable range of emotion to the role, from outrage to tragic resolve. As a fast-talking Victor with a malleable sense of the truth, Nick Westrate never quite convinced, although Burns's adaptation was perhaps more to blame for making him a far less sympathetic character. With his entrance delayed to the final scenes, Lucas Iverson had even less of a chance to make an impression as the Monster, frightening only in a few flashbacks and voice-overs.

The decidedly 21st-century idiom of Burns's language in the adaptation is off-putting, given the 19th-century setting established by the shadow-filled Gothic set (scenic design by Andrew Boyce, lighting by Neil Austin) and romantic-period costumes (Kate Voyce). Music and sound, designed and composed by André Pluess, are responsible for most of the chills, such as they are. The most faithful parts of the novel to be reproduced are the voice-overs, mostly taken verbatim from Shelley's text.

Frankenstein has been extended through June 29. shakespearetheatre.org.

STC gives "Uncle Vanya" contemporary feel, swearing included

Hugh Bonneville in Uncle Vanya, Shakespeare Theatre Company.
Photo: DJ Corey Photography

Any of Anton Chekhov's plays can make for an engaging night in the theater, but Uncle Vanya is a perennial favorite. For his latest production at Shakespeare Theatre Company, where he is artistic director, Simon Godwin has reworked this classic play--equal parts tragedy, comedy, and melodrama--in a grittier, updated coproduction with Berkeley Repertory Theatre, where it played in February. The new translation by Irish playwright Conor McPherson stays close to the original in most ways, with a few unexpected twists and a lot more vulgarity.

English actor Hugh Bonneville, likely most familiar to American viewers for his starring role in Downton Abbey, works a sort of miracle with the title character, tempering Vanya's bitterness and cynicism, which can be overpowering, with drunken charm and plenty of humor. The comic timing of the whole evening, not just from Bonneville, moderated what can be a severe experience. Disheveled, unshaven, slovenly, Bonneville's Vanya is a mess, but he endears himself to his family and to the audience in other ways.

Vanya's world is thrown into chaos when Professor Serebryakov, played with wooden pomposity by Tom Nelis, moves into the country estate with his young second wife, Elena. Vanya and Serebryakov's daughter with his first wife, Sonya (a sincere and affecting Melanie Field), have faithfully run the estate for years since the death of Serebryakov's first wife, sending most of the profit to support Serebryakov's career. Now retired and seeking more money, the professor upsets the equilibrium of the place, setting all the family's accustomed routines off-kilter. Gone are Chekhov's sonic touches of the Russian countryside, like the rap of the watchman's rattle, the tinkle of sleigh bells, and the sung and strummed folk songs, but a subtle background soundtrack of crickets and other rural sounds gives the impression of a rundown house in a forest somewhere.

Ito Aghayere proved the element out of place in an otherwise well-suited cast: her Elena felt too rooted in the 21st century and seemed to have no connection to Serebryakov. John Benjamin Hickey, another television actor making his STC debut, made a self-deprecating, charismatic Astrov. Two veteran actresses, STC favorite Nancy Robinette and California-based Sharon Lockwood, delighted as Nana (Marina) and Mariya, respectively. Craig Wallis, himself an STC regular, entertained as a bumbling, forgetful Telegin ("Waffles"). An understudy for two of the roles, Kina Kantor, provided moving transitions playing solo pieces on the cello, adding an intense, atmospheric touch to the evening.

Uncle Vanya runs through April 20 at Harman Hall. shakespearetheatre.org