Shakespeare & then some
To say nothing of the dog, either.
The Hideout had a little ad for a production of Two Gentlemen of Verona. Figured, it was free, sure, nothing better on a Friday night. Maybe two or three people would show up, and we’d be entertained then I could write a scathing review of how badly mangled the words were, and what poor production qualities were employed, and just being back from “over yonder,” I’m sure nothing would be worth mentioning.
Okay, a little history, see, in real Elizabethan Theatre, back in Shakespeare’s day, the plays were more a set of crib notes, scattered fragments that each actor was given, at times, right before going on stage. No real script. All in the head of the prompter, or director. Or play write. So, Poor Tom Productions did a version of Two Gentlemen of Verona just like that.
I’d be tempted to use words like “amazing” and “wonderfully entertaining,” but after some thought, the best way to describe it? Spirited.
With more than a passing nod to the historically correct version, allegedly just supplying the actors (and actresses) with nothing more than their fragments, the play comes together in a slightly halting fashion. Maybe a half-dozen times, some one asked for a line. After the intermission, the prompter acknowledged that maybe a beer on the break wasn’t the best idea, as he was completely lost. Which just lead to a more intimate feel, and each production is probably a little different. To be sure, the crew certainly seemed to have fun.
The diction, I got lost in the story and action, and I never noticed if it was right or not, which would lead me to suspect that the diction and speech was done properly. Go see what Hamlet has to say about how an actor is supposed to let the words fall trippingly or whatever, and not sawing the air with hands.
Then there was the dog. Launce rails mercilessly at the dog, and real dog was used. Not a prop, but a very sweet critter named Achilles. The dog hammed it up, and he actually stole the show at one point, licking an errant photographer, much to the delight of the audience.
The musical interlude, the piece that lead into the intermission? “Dude looks like a lady,” (Aerosmith) – which was even better because one of the girls in the story was dressing as a man, and now we’re back to history, when, in Elizabethan times, it would’ve been a boy dressed as a woman, dressed as a man. Funny.
The costumes, if that’s what they were, looked like thrift store material as much as anything. Except for the woman playing the Matrix-look-alike. The character was some kind of bad-ass, and she did the black overcoat, and she was armed with two guns. Water guns. Scowling, she did dampen the audience a little. Didn’t dampen the enthusiasm, though.
Costumes, lighting, stage direction, it was all okay, but nothing can replace the sheer excitement that the players brought to the stage. Spirited.
One of the two gentlemen of Verona, Valentine, was bemoaning his fate, and he started to cry on the prompter’s shoulder, snuffling big tears.
I’m not sure it’s in the text, but at the point, the prompter was prompted to say, “There are no more lines in this act.”
Very, very funny.
The whole thing was good. I judge a play based on how sore my butt gets. I was a little sore on the thin theater seats during the first half. I never noticed any pain for the second half.
The spokesperson and ticket taker (it was free – work with it) came out before the second half and suggested, “That it all gets crazy now.” Oh yeah.
Sometimes a performance is carried by a single star, but if there was but one star on that stage, it was the dog. Other than the dog? It was an excellent production, and rather even-handed. I would wonder if the dropped lines were rehearsed for their comic timing seemed to fit. Might just have been a good show.
Two more performances this weekend, at the Dog & Duck pub, check listings for details.
The best part? The dog. Maybe it was the guys playing the two gentlemen. Maybe it was the girls playing the girls. Or the girl playing the boy. Or maybe it was the two servants, or even the supporting roles, they were good, too. In fact, there wasn’t a weak bit in the play.
Me? I want a job as a prompter: no lines to memorize, just stand there and follow the script. That would be good, about my speed.
Or the dog.
