By Yvonne Flack
For the Real Critics Blog
As a veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom, “Much Ado About Nothing” director Kit
Fugrad had the perfect inspiration for his adaptation of the Bard’s classic comedy—a personal, but equally universal, experience in an ongoing military conflict.
It is 2009 and Don Pedro, played by Christopher Vienna, and his troops have returned home from tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. The scene is a common one—a
barbeque with friends and family, beer, jests and budding love between Don Pedro’s right-hand man Claudio, aptly played by David Caldwell, and the young and beautiful Hero, played by
Shanti Ryle.
Doing a concept piece with Shakespeare is a tricky balancing act between fidelity to the Bard’s original and the need to fully carry out the adaptation and produce a coherent piece of theatre.
This balancing act becomes even more crucial when adapting comedies, as they always center around one or more marriages—a tricky thing to do post-women’s lib, as Shakespeare’s heroines are often jostled around by the men who control their lives.
Fugrad’s adaptation of the script was an honorable one, though it sometimes did not go far enough or failed to overcome some of the play’s inherent ties to the period in which it was written.
Most of the possessor-like control over Hero was removed from the character of
Leonato, and Todd Meyer portrayed a convincing concerned contemporary father in the role. This contemporary concern crumbled into the 17
th century, however, in his harsh reaction to Hero’s denouncement in the second half of the play where, as mandated by Shakespeare’s original, he laments that he would rather see Hero die than have her live as a sullied and impure woman—an unrealistic reaction in the 21st century.
Not only were the traditional Shakespearean male/female hierarchies removed, but, for the most part, the class and royalty hierarchies were removed as well. Don Pedro, a prince in
Shakespeare’s original, became a captain in
Fugrad’s adaptation, though the adaptation was inconsistent in that he was also referred to as “the Prince” on occasion. Don John was, however, still referred to as “the bastard” in a way that evoked the Early Modern belief that children born out of wedlock were somehow less than their legitimate siblings. This conundrum could have easily been avoided through the inflection of the actors and the simple replacement of the word “the” in describing him to “a” or “that.” In the 21st century, the difference between the brothers should not have been one of legitimacy, but rather one of character.
Other
contemporizations helped round out the adaptation and bring about the reality of the world that the actors, director, and technicians were creating. The incorporation of live contemporary music, and the utilization of Caldwell’s musical skills, both vocally and as a guitarist, were a welcome addition to the show, though one of the song choices left me a bit perplexed. America’s “Horse With No Name” opened the second half of the play, and despite the references to a desert, here presumed to be the deserts of the Middle East, I could not help thinking about the long-held belief that the song is about the experience of being on heroine. Either way, it seemed to be an odd thing to be thinking about the night before one is going to get married; perhaps a love song would have been a more appropriate choice.
But the best musical numbers and references were yet to come. In Caldwell’s best musical performance of the night, Claudio lamented at Hero’s tomb with “The Other Side,” a song that seems as if it could have been written specifically for Much Ado. And as Benedick tries to compose a sonnet to his new-found love, Beatrice, played by Laurel Mueller, he inadvertently comes up with the lyrics for “L.O.V.E” beginning with, “L is for the way you look at me,” to the obvious enjoyment of the crowd.
Benedick’s turnaround from sworn bachelor to pining poet is often the comedic highlight of the play. As bachelor, Benedick, played by Justin
Girard, was a slightly inebriated, man’s man, swearing off love to any woman. This swaggering Benedick was a clever character choice, offering a level of excuse for his many misogynistic monologues and anti-love ramblings. But as soon as Don Pedro, Claudio, Hero,
Leonato and Ursula contrive to bring him together with the sworn
bachelorette, and his mental equal, Beatrice, he crumbles into a man hopelessly in love.
By speaking of Beatrice’s fictitious love within earshot of the sworn bachelor, the men engineer the entrapment of Benedick. This scene is generally the peak of Shakespeare’s comedic genius, as the audience can visibly see Benedick crumble from his bachelor ways into stubborn, but undeniable love. But this audience could not see the majority of Benedick’s reactions as he hid behind a chair in the audience for nearly the entire scene. While the plotting of Don Pedro, Claudio and
Leonato is funny, the real humor in the scene lies in Benedick’s reactions to what they are saying and their obvious enjoyment as they see him fall into their trap. This scene simply focused on the conspirators and missed the potential for rolling laughter that can be found through Benedick’s part in the scene.
Likewise, the Beatrice entrapment scene fell flat compared to its great potential to entice
uproarious laughter in the audience. Beatrice was blocked peeking around a pole and, again, what was being said about the supposed love that Benedick bore her took the foreground of the scene. The source of the humor in this scene should, as in the scene with Benedick, build off of Beatrice's reaction to her newfound knowledge and budding love for Benedick.
While Mueller had an obvious understanding of what she was saying, and delivered her lines in a clear and appropriately contemporary way, her reactions in this scene were, like much of her character throughout the play, so casual, that they failed to entice a large enough reaction from the audience to make the scene memorable.
The real side-splitting comedy of this production came, surprisingly, amidst the tragedy of the second half with the well-meaning, but slightly dangerous, bumbling of
Dogberry and his band of not-so-merry men (and woman). Recent high school graduate, Patrick Bailey, emerged as a star
of this production in the narcoleptic, red-plastic-bat-toting role of
Dogberry. In his battle to fight the crime and corruption of
Borachio and his cohorts,
Dogberry’s men frequently fell victim to the wild flailing of his plastic bat and
Dogberry’s right-hand woman Verges, played by Chelsea Cohen, was seen with more and more bandages from the many injuries she sustained in his service. From the ridiculously official use of his childish prop, to the narcoleptic fits that left him falling to the floor as dead weight, this
Dogberry was a character to remember.
The delicious wines of the
Frangipani Winery, the starry summer evening sky, the quaint sound of coyotes in the distance, and, of course, the production itself, made Shakespeare in the Vines’ “Much Ado About Nothing” an enjoyable experience, despite some of the pitfalls in the adaptation.
Up next Shakespeare in the Vines presents "The Comedy of Errors," Aug. 13 through 29 at Frangipani Estate Winery. Check out www.shakespeareinthevines.org for details.
Yucaipa Little Theatre’s production of “School House Rock, Live” was respectable. The cast appeared to have a lot of fun at the Sunday, Dec. 13, closing performance. But perhaps they were tired from the run of the show because there was a lack of energy.
