BSF's "Winter's Tale": Mostly Cloudy

SHOW INFORMATION: Through April 27.  Friday and Saturday at 8PM, Sunday at 5PM.  St, Mary's in Hampden.  $20.00 - $25.00.  www.baltimoreshakespeare.org or 410-366-8596 for information.

 

◊◊ 1/2 out of five.  2 hours, 40 minutes, including intermission.

One of Shakespeare's lesser known comedies, The Winter's Tale, opened this weekend at Baltimore Shakespeare Festival's Hampden theatre space with considerable and well-deserved fanfare.  It seems the BSF is the recipient of a grant from the NEA's Shakespeare in American Communities/Shakespeare for a New Generation initiative, which translates into important and significant monies being freed up to give city and county school children access to live performances of the play.  Congratulations to the BSF on this important achievement.  Any exposure to the live art of theater, especially such classic works as those by Mr. Shakespeare is a worthwhile thing.  So it saddens me to report that The Winter's Tale, directed by Kathleen Akerley, is not the best vehicle for this momentous occasion.  While the production values are high and the performances of a few of the actors (including a star-turn by the lead actor) are nice, the production suffers from a dual personality and a deadly dull pace.  Will that be enough to excite the throngs of young patrons who will be seeing this piece all week?  I hope so, but I sincerely doubt it.

Perhaps the duality of the show's "personalities" is not entirely Ms. Akerley's fault; after all, she can only make do with what the Bard put to paper.  And perhaps the almost bipolar mood swing of the plot is what makes this one a lesser performed play from the canon.  Still, a director taking liberty in conceptualizing Shakespeare is almost required these days; playing it straight was not, apparently, the way to go.  You see, the first half of the production plays like one of the tragedies – a king overcome by jealousy and rage has his pregnant queen jailed, the child taken and hidden in a far off land.  There are scenes of high drama – the queen prostrate with grief pleads for her life in a lengthy soliloquy (she dies, anyway), later, her friend does much the same in an even lengthier speech (she doesn't die, but apparently has a statue of her friend erected).  There are flashes of "otherworldliness" (literally).  As staged, the visions of the king (I think) are revealed in flashes of light that reveal royal tableaux behind a gauzy curtain.  The entire thing, including the King's resultant grief and guilt, smacks of the great tragedies: Lear, Macbeth, Hamlet.  If the play were in fact a tragedy or a history, this review would be much different.

But, by far and away the most grievous thing about this deadly serious act is that it is played so low key it is mind numbing.  Yes, there are fluctuations in tone, but say, for example, the king is outraged for a scene or more.  Once the actor hits his highest level of "outrage," that is it.  He stays there until he is done.  To a person, every actor does this.  The result is a mind numbing series of monotone rants and rages.  Coupled with trying to cling to every word because, again, to a person, they speak neither loud enough or slow enough to be completely understood.  Were this a play we were familiar with, snatches of dialogue and the subsequent staging would be enough to guide us through the maze that Shakespeare lays out for us.  But it isn't, so you have to choose: do you concentrate so hard on the spoken word that you lose any nuance or staging?  Or do you try to follow it and let it wash over you?  I went with the first in order to better report on the acting, a bad choice it turns out.  I suspect that my companion for the evening chose the later because I could sense when she gave up trying to hear it.  Neither of us went away with a satisfying evening of theatre.  Ah, but what of act two?

Like many people who suffer from bipolar disorder as the seasons change, so too does this perplexing staging.  Talk about a mood swing!  All of the hallmarks of Shakespearean comedy abound – nobles disguise themselves as common folk, the real common folk are duped, physical comedy (including Shakespeare's first fart joke, it seems) and high camp portrayals are the order of the day.  The pace picks up, the staging becomes interesting, and lo and behold!  The actors transform into loud, clear speaking folks with a twinkle in their eyes; they are having FUN!  I'll admit that after about ten minutes of getting used to this abrupt change and letting go of the fact that I was not entirely sure of what was happening or why, I started to really enjoy the performance.  It was funny, to be sure, even though a comedy of Shakespeare's needn't necessarily be, all he requires is that at the end, everyone ends up alive and well.  So, after the mirth and mayhem started wear thin – about 30 minutes of overplaying is all I can handle – I started to wonder just how all would end well, considering the heroine was already dead.  Enter mood swing number two.  As abruptly as act two started, all happy happy, it swiftly resumed being somber somber.  Monotones resumed, plot points tidied up, and minds numbed.  Through a crafty plot twist, Shakespeare does get everyone in a good place by curtain, but by that point I really didn't care anymore.

As always, the BSF has high production values.  The Winter's Tale features gorgeous scenery (save for that overly gauzy curtain that obscures more than it shows) designed by Elizabeth McFadden.  The set is dominated by a large wall with arched entrances and gigantic, beautifully painted faux stained glass.  Alexandra Pappas' lighting design matches the moods of the acts – deep, shadowy blues I act one, bright yellows and warm tones in act two.  Heather Lockard's costumes are simply beautiful, rich in texture and detail.  Perhaps the only drawback is that at least two of the actresses looked enough alike that they characters couldn't told apart (I heard that throughout the intermission, and wondered it myself).  Chief in Ms. Akerley's "concept" is a chair that is sometimes throne, sometimes wall, sometimes any number of things, as it is shoved and hauled around the stage.  Added to it is what I am sure is meant to be a highly stylized symbol of some sort, a large piece of blue cloth that is thrown over the throne in various ways, mostly awkwardly and frequently falling.  Despite its intended "meaning" it was more of a distraction than anything else.  I wanted to run up and snatch it down, it got so annoying.

The company, several of whom are Actors Equity members, are as uneven as the direction and staging.  Of the 13 member company, six made a lasting (i.e.: I remember them 24 hours later) impression.  The rest were a blur, ineffectual and dull.  Theo Hadjimichael, as Camillo, does a decent job navigating the "tragedy Camillo" and "comedy Camillo," and he is one of the few who seems to understand that being understood is paramount.  Teresa Castracane, as the unfortunate Hermione, does a superb job of bringing her character enough warmth to get us to care about her and even feel a twinge of outrage at her misguided fate.  Her impassioned speech just before her off stage death is strong and poignant.  Her near doppelganger, Kathleen Coons, delivers another fiery speech, almost worthy of applause, as she confronts the king about the grievous injustice. 

On the high comedy side, both Jay Hardee, as Florizel, betrothed to Perdita (the long lost daughter of Hermione) and Christopher Ross, as the Young Shepherd, ring every drop of comedy out of each line and bit of staging.  They represent the enormous boost of energy the play gets in act two.  They both tend to overdo just a tad, but at least they are interesting at all times.  It should be noted that both actors play several characters.

Fortunately, there is one element of this production that is superb from start to finish, and that is actor Steven Carpenter, who plays King Leontes.  His performance is amazing throughout, for its terrific range, broad strokes and finely tuned finesse.  For every grand gesture, there is, somewhere else, a subtlety to balance it.  The part requires a range of moods that most actors simply cannot convey in the space of one evening.  He also has to sing, do physical comedy, change personas frequently, and is onstage nearly the entire time.  I would hire this man to play any of Shakespeare's grand tragic figures or any of his bawdiest, most beloved comic characters.

Yes, the dichotomy of the play is Shakespeare's doing, but ultimately, it is director Kathleen Akerley who has to bring it to life for maximum understanding.  Maybe she is so familiar with The Winter's Tale that everything is crystal clear to her, but, and I know I'm not alone here, she seems to have forgotten to take the rest of us along for the unfamiliar ride.  As is, The Winter's Tale left me cold.

PHOTOS by Raine Bode, courtesy of Baltimore Shakespeare Festival.  TOP to BOTTOM: Steven Carpenter and Kathleen Coons; Steven Carpenter and Christopher Ross; Steven Carpenter.

 

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