Bard on the Beach

Plays offer understanding, release

Dromio in The Comedy of Errors. Bard on the Beach runs into September. (photo by Tim Matheson)

Every day, we are bombarded with news about war, hate, crime, inflation, the list goes on. How to make sense of it all? Often, good theatre can provide deeper meaning and understanding of the world, or at least offer us a break from the world. Cue Shakespeare and his 400-year-old lens that is remarkably accurate in contemporary times…. And that takes us to Bard on the Beach.

Last issue, I reviewed Bard’s productions of Twelfth Night and Hamlet (jewishindependent.ca/bard-plays-with-tradition). This issue, I start with Measure for Measure, then move to The Comedy of Errors.

In Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure, the Duke of Vienna has enacted laws outlawing sex between unmarried couples. He then leaves the city in the control of puritanical Angelo and disguises himself as a friar to observe what happens. A young man, Claudio, is prosecuted for the crime of impregnating his girlfriend and is sentenced to death. When the condemned man’s virginal sister, Isabella, a novitiate in a local nunnery, comes to plead for his life, Angelo is smitten. He offers to save Claudio’s life if Isabella will sleep with him. What a great platform to explore the male hierarchy, corruption, sexual predators, coercion and authoritarian control.

photo - Tal Shulman as Abhorson in Measure for Measure — Tal Shulman as Abhorson in Measure for Measure. *(photo by Tim Matheson)*

In the Bard production, director Jivesh Parasram has taken the story and, in an absurdist twist, made premarital dancing the offence punishable by death. The setting: the disco-crazed 1970s and ’80s, in the glitzy Club Europa. Act 1 opens with hooded monks frenetically dancing on a neon-lit dance floor replete with a disco ball, presided over by a silver-clad, fox-head-wearing DJ (Jewish community member Tal Shulman, who later does duty as the black-hooded executioner, Abhorson). The Duke (a superb Scott Bellis) rips off his monk robes to reveal a sparkly suit as he dances his way over to Angelo (a staid, suspendered Craig Erickson) and hands him authority over the city. The edict is given – tansen verboten (dancing forbidden) – but that does not stop an erotic pas de deux between Claudio (Jeremy Lewis) and Julietta (Tess Degenstein), leading to Claudio’s arrest and imprisonment.

When Isabella (Meaghan Chenosky) is told of her brother’s fate by Lucio (Karthik Kadam), she rushes to Angelo’s office. At first, she is rebuffed but then Angelo offers her Claudio’s life in return for a dance. She grapples with the request, wanting to save her brother’s life, but refuses, threatening to expose Angelo’s hypocrisy. His response: no one will believe her. Sound familiar?

To save Claudio’s life and retain Isabella’s chastity, a plan is hatched to switch Mariana (Leslie Dos Remdios), Angelo’s previous lover, to dance with the cad. A huge panda bear head is part of the subterfuge.

Meanwhile, there is a side story of two “dance hall workers,” who are worried about the morality laws and the impact they will have on their “business.” The pair become involved in the plot to free Claudio. For how it all ends, you’ll have to see the play.

Throughout the production, the foxy DJ pops up to play the hit tunes as the cast busts out into various, often raunchy, dance moves. Kadam also plays Master Kevin Bacon and performs some impressive footwork to the theme song from the movie Footloose.

The set is fab (thanks to designer Ryan Cormack), the costumes hip (credit to Alaia Hamer), the dancing energetic (kudos to choreographer Krystal Kiran) and the oldies but goodies nostalgia-inducing. If the opening night audience reaction is any measure of its success, Bard’s take on Shakespeare’s “problem play” is destined to be the hit of the season. It certainly will bring in a younger crowd.

***

Playing on alternate nights with Measure for Measure (and with the same cast) is Shakespeare’s shortest work, The Comedy of Errors, about two sets of identical twins separated at birth in a shipwreck. Egeon (Bellis), a merchant from Syracuse and father of one of the sets of twins, has been arrested and sentenced to death in Ephesus for breaking a law that prevents people from traveling between the two cities. Seeking leniency, he tells the Duke (Degenstein) why he is there. Many years before, he had a wife and identical twin sons (both named Antipholus), who had identical twin servants (both named Dromio). During the shipwreck, he saved one son and his servant while his wife and the other son and servant were washed away. His Syracusean son, Antipholous, has taken Dromio to look for his lost brother. Now Egeon is looking for both his sons. A 24-hour reprieve is granted. Conveniently and unbeknownst to anyone, both sets of identical twins are in Ephesus. Of course, that sets the scene for confusion, mistaken identities, slapstick humour and hilarious miscues. There even is a goofy exorcism.

Director Rebecca Northan (who helmed last year’s Goblin Macbeth) has set the play in its proper period, ancient Greece. Once in the tent, you feel like you are in an open Mediterranean market with colourfully decked out vendors hawking their wares – silks, carpets, gold – mingling with the audience as they take their seats.

Northan has chosen to have one actor play both twins in a set, which can be confusing and will keep you on your toes. Lanky Antipholus (Lewis) wears a red and blue shoulder sash. When the red side is showing, he is from Syracuse; the blue, Ephesus. Meanwhile, diminutive Dromio (Shulman) also uses red/blue swatches to signal his identity. Shulman is very funny and his talent is evident as he frantically races around the stage, and in and out of the tent.

The main confusion surrounds the purchase of a gold chain that has yet to be paid for although money has been tendered. Where is the necklace? Who has the money? Who paid for what?

The second area of confusion is the relationship between Ariana (Chenosky), the wife the Ephesian Antipholus and her husband, who likes to “go out with the boys.” When she sends her servant to fetch him home and finds that he does not recognize her (wrong twin) and that he has fallen for her sister, Luciana (Cynthia Yusuf), she explodes. In all of this, Kadam, playing both a coquettish courtesan and an Urdu-speaking merchant, steals the show. I wish he had been on stage more.

As usual in any Bard comedy, all’s well that ends well and all becomes clear. Tying everything together is great behind-the-scenes work: the set (Cormack), costuming (Christine Reimer), sound design (Ben Elliott) and lighting design (Hina Nisihoka). My only complaint is that, as the actors did not have microphones, some of the dialogue is lost. And some of the shtick works and some does not, but it is in the name after all – a comedy of errors. Come early to take advantage of the artisan market set outside the performance venue.

For tickets to any of the four Bard productions, visit bardonthebeach.org or call 604-739-0559.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

Bard plays with tradition

Nathan Kay as Sir Andrew in Bard on the Beach’s production of Twelfth Night. (photo by Tim Matheson)

Summer is here again and with it comes that perennial favourite, Bard on the Beach. This year, the BMO Main Stage hosts Twelfth Night and Hamlet, well into September.

First up, Twelfth Night, from Shakespeare’s later period, was written to provide light entertainment for the close of the 12 days of Christmas. Director Diana Donnelly’s adaptation for this comedy is to set it in a carnival-like atmosphere in Illyria, to take advantage of the chaotic shenanigans served up in the narrative (including a fight scene using table tennis paddles). As stated in the show notes, “Illyria is peopled with a bizarre mix of characters: a ringmaster, strongman, rocketman, clowns, pirates and several fortune tellers.”

In Twelfth Night, twins Viola (Kate Besworth) and Sebastian (Charlie Gallant) are separated after a shipwreck. Viola washes up on the shores of Illyria into the midst of the circus. Thinking that her brother has perished, she disguises herself as a man (Cesario) to work for magician Count Orsino (Aidan Correia). Meanwhile, the Count is trying to woo circus star Countess Olivia (Olivia Hutt) and sends Cesario out to do the deed. However, Olivia is not interested in the Count, being preoccupied with other tragic events in her life, and falls for the messenger while the messenger falls for the Count, making for an interesting love triangle.

Add to the mix Olivia’s drunk-but-well-meaning uncle Sir Toby Belch (Marcus Youssef) and his foolish sidekick Sir Andrew Aguecheek (Nathan Kay), cunning maid Maria (Evelyn Chew), the Fool (Anton Lipovetsky, doing double duty as musical director) and, in a gender reversal, the Countess’s puritanical, let-there-be-no-fun manager Malvolia (Dawn Petten), who secretly pines for the Countess, and the mayhem takes off. Amid all this, Sebastian reappears on the Illyrian scene, leading to comical mistaken identity scenarios.

You might as well call this Bard iteration Twelfth Night: The Musical, as cast members often burst into song – terrific original ones by local composer Veda Hille – giving credence to a famous line in the play, “If music be the food of love, play on.” While I found the first act somewhat disjointed and confusing, trying to figure out what was going on when and with whom, the second act saved the day and the enthusiastic cast/music made up for any shortcomings in this adaptation.

To that end, kudos to understudy Besworth, who got the call a day before opening night to step into the shoes of Camille Legg and, without the benefit of rehearsal, gave a sublime performance. Hutt is charming as the Countess, Youssef is as good-humoured as you can get and Gallant does able double duty for the musical bits with guitar and drum work. Bard veteran Andrew Wheeler is the Ringmaster and controls the pace of the circus (when he can). Petten is a standout and takes the concept of emoting to new heights in a sparkly yellow cat suit when she is spun around on the “Wheel of Misfortune,” while being punished by Belch and his cronies for her kill-joy attitude. Very much an ensemble cast, special mention has to be made of the two Jewish community cast members, Kay and Lipovetsky, whose comedic timing and antics will keep you in stitches.

Costumer Mara Gottler has scored a home run with costumes that can only be described as fabulous – particularly Hutt’s colourful sequined frock and a flowing, white, asymmetrically hemmed wedding dress (I want this dress!) complemented with black suede stiletto boots. All the costumes are suggestive of a carnival and set designer Pam Johnson gives the audience a multi-hued circus with colourful games, ladders, balls and banners.

Purists may wince at the liberties taken with the original script but this production will be a hit with those in the summer crowd who are looking for a Shakespeare Lite experience.

For something completely different, there’s Hamlet. I loved, loved, loved it! I have seen many productions of Hamlet but this one is by far the one that gave me the most clarity in understanding the story. This is Shakespeare at his finest.

Stephen Drover, adapter and director, in a brilliant twist of chronology, starts the play off with Hamlet on stage orating the suicide soliloquy (usually in the third act). Right away, we see the angst of the prince as he grapples with life and death (“to be or not to be”). His life is a mess – his uncle Claudius kills his father, the king of Denmark, and takes the throne; his mother, Queen Gertrude, marries Claudius; his best friends from university, uildenstern and Rosencrantz, betray him; and his girlfriend, Ophelia, kills herself. What’s left to live for? It is the dread of what might come after death that “makes cowards of us all” and so Hamlet chooses life on this “mortal coil.”

photo - Nadeem Phillip Umar Khitab as the title character in Bard’s Hamlet — Nadeem Phillip Umar Khitab as the title character in Bard’s Hamlet. *(photo by Tim Matheson)*

Hamlet is set on his fateful path by an eerie visit from the ghost of his father, who describes his murder most foul and importunes his son to avenge his death. Feigning madness, Hamlet sets off to right what is rotten in Denmark amid the wealth and power of the royal court.

The action includes a foray into a graveyard where actor Lipovetsky injects some moments of lightness into an otherwise dark tale with his comedic take on the gravedigger. We also are privy to the funeral of Ophelia and, in the finale, an epic fencing duel culminates in multiple deaths, including a poignant farewell for Hamlet. Kudos to fight director Jonathan Hawley Purvis for his choreography of this sequence. Choreographer Lisa Goebels also provides some stunning freeze frame dance moments showcasing some fancy footwork by the older royals.

In another interesting staging twist, the original play-within-a-play device, which mimics the king’s death (poison in his ear), becomes a song from traveling performers, played by Christine Quintana and Lipovetsky.

Pam Johnson’s set is a cavernous library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and secret doors that allow the actors to enter and exit the stage seamlessly. A huge crown hangs from the ceiling and plays a critical role in the final scene. Being set in the present time allows for contemporary costumes – tattered jeans, T-shirts for the young, fitted dresses and pant suits for Gertrude and double-breasted suits for the older gents, courtesy of costume designer Barbara Clayden.

While this is Hamlet’s story, it really is only made possible through the teamwork of a very skilled cast. Nadeem Phillip Umar Khitab is the quintessential Hamlet, with his physical presence and determination palpable as he undertakes his filial task of revenge. (Starting Sept. 2, Hamlet will be played by Chirag Naik.) Besworth is an ethereal Ophelia who sees no option but to take her life when both her brother, Laertes (Kay), and her father, Polonius (Wheeler), forbid her to have anything to do with Hamlet. Munish Sharma plays Claudius; Jennifer Clement, Gertrude; Ivy Charles and Aidan Correia, Guildenstern and Rosencrantz; and Youssef, the Ghost.

For tickets to any of the Bard productions, visit bardonthebeach.org or 604-739-0559. Comedy of Errors and Measure for Measure run on the smaller Howard Family Stage.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

Treatise on war, peace

Left to right: Tom Pickett, Advah Soudack, Kate Besworth and Karthik Kadam in Bard on the Beach’s production of Shakespeare’s Henry V, which runs to Aug. 13. (photo by Tim Matheson)

Bard on the Beach rarely presents Shakespeare’s history plays. The last time Vancouver audiences were treated to one of the House of Lancaster trilogies was in 2011. Like Julius Caesar, currently playing on the Mainstage, Henry V is a timely production, based on world events. Unlike Julius Caesar, which is set in modern times, director Lois Anderson has envisioned the setting for Henry V as an indeterminate time in a wartorn future.

In Henry V, there is a device Shakespeare often used – a play within a play. A traveling troupe of nine actors, seeking shelter from a raging storm, suitcases in hand, arrives in an apocalyptic time to present their version of Henry V. Their ultimate message: make love, not war.

When Henry IV died, his 16-year-old son, Prince Hal, ascended to the throne of England. His father had, on his deathbed, made it clear to his son that, to take on the crown responsibilities, he had to give up his profligate lifestyle and his association with the lower-class tavern set, including his mentor Falstaff. Once on the throne, and taking government matters seriously, Henry V is surrounded by ambitious advisors who encourage him to invade France as part of the ongoing Hundred Years War between the two countries. Reluctant at first, the arrival of an emissary at his court with a “gift” of tennis balls (analogous to a slap in the face) from the cocky French Prince, the Dauphin, convinces Henry to go to war.

On the battlefield, Henry comes of age, transitioning from an impressionable youth to a fierce leader of men. Although vastly outnumbered, the English are ultimately successful in the 1415 Battle of Agincourt, spurred on by Henry’s rousing now-iconic call to arms: “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.”

As part of the boy-to-man transition, Henry takes a hard line with his tavern pals, who have also joined the fight for king and country – condemning one to death for stealing a loaf of bread and eschewing the pleas for reconciliation from a dying Falstaff.

The audience is guided through the story by a narrator, the Chorus, who welcomes us to “the show” and provides numerous asides that give context and meaning to what is happening on stage, both in the action and in Henry’s mind (manifested by flashbacks to his carefree days of youth).

All the cast, save for the eponymous lead, play multiple roles and Anderson has chosen to always keep the actors on stage. When not involved in a scene, they sit off to the side. Costume changes take place right in front of the audience. The intimate Douglas Campbell Theatre allows for this up-close-and-personal action.

The women in this production are standouts. Jewish community member Advah Soudack not only acts, doing double-duty portraying Mistress Quickly (one of the tavern denizens) and the emissary Mountjoy, but also has a chance to show off her vocal skills with a haunting solo. Newcomer Marlee Griffiths is simply delightful as the French princess Katharine, especially as she practises English with her maid. Emilie Leclerc is both the narrator and French Queen Isabelle, and makes her Bard debut with a strong performance.

Kate Besworth plays Henry V in a gender reversal. Anderson’s vision encompasses the insecurity and angst of a teenager suddenly placed in charge of a country at war, who must make decisions with far-reaching consequences. Yet that same youth can be painfully shy when it comes to wooing, winning and wedding Princess Katherine (a strategic alliance that helps broker peace between the warring nations). Diminutive Besworth ably portrays these two sides of Henry’s character.

Among the male actors, Billy Marchenski is a tough Exeter; Craig Erickson, Henry IV; Tom Pickett, the King of France; and Karthik Kadam, the Dauphin. Munish Sharma gets to play with the role of portly Falstaff.

However, the real stars in this rendering are the designers. Kudos to all of them, starting with Jewish community member Amir Ofek in charge of the set design. In the program notes, he writes, “Director Lois Anderson and myself reimagined this production as an immersive audience experience that starts from the moment you enter the performance space.” He certainly accomplished this goal. When you step through the front tent flap, you are transported into a futuristic sepia-and-earth-tone world, chairs haphazardly stacked, looking like they are about to fall over (a metaphor for the chaos of the world), and an inner tent made of burlap sacks stitched together (scavenged from various local coffee shops), all atop a cracked, parched dirt floor. You really do feel like you are in a tent in the middle of a battlefield. The chairs are used to represent everything from beds to thrones to canons to barricades to weapons.

Mara Gottler’s costumes reflect the “anytime and no time” design mandate she was given and lend themselves to the quick on-stage changes. She wanted to “convey a visual narrative of war and love,” and accomplishes this with different colour palettes for the French and English courts and the tavern gang. Sophie Tang’s lighting, together with Joelysa Pankanea’s musical score, complete the effect. Original songs for the troupe add a novel layer to the production and choreographer/fight director Jonathan Hawley Purvis deserves a mention for the clever battle scenes.

Anderson’s vision is certainly a treatise on the evils – and inevitability – of war, yet still holds out a glimmer of hope for redemption through love.

Henry V runs until Aug. 13. For tickets, visit bardonthebeach.org or call the box office, 604-739-0559.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

Bard masters comedy, tragedy

Oscar Derkx (Orlando) and Chelsea Rose (Rosalind) in As You Like It. (photo by Tim Matheson)

What do you get if you mix a Shakespearean comedy with 23 Beatles hits from the 1960s and set the whole thing in Vancouver and the Okanagan? An unforgettable night at Bard on the Beach, which opened its 34th season with a remounting of its 2018 hit As You Like It.

Various nips and tucks to the original script have been made. While purists may not appreciate the surgery, the Bard version still follows the convoluted saga of four pairs of young lovers who cross paths as they work through obstacles in their quests for true love. After all, all you need is love.

The action starts in Vancouver with a zany pre-show bout of Superstar Wrestling – make sure you get into the tent 15 minutes before curtain time. Ringmaster Touchstone introduces Charles 2 Guns Leibowitz, a narcissist on steroids, who takes on all comers for cash prizes. Orlando, who has been denied his inheritance by older brother Oliver, decides to go for it, although the underdog in size and confidence.

During the match, Orlando catches the eye of Rosalind, and it is love at first sight (“she loves you, ya ya ya!”). However, Rosalind is banished from Vancouver by her aunt, and runs off to the Okanagan with best friend Celia and faithful servant Touchstone. To do this safely, Rosalind uses one of Shakespeare’s favourite ploys and disguises herself as a boy (Ganymede), with Celia playing her sister.

Orlando, with his devoted servant, Adam, also heads to the Okanagan when his brother threatens to have him killed. As expected, he crosses paths with Ganymede/Rosalind and her entourage.

Add to the mix a lovelorn rube and the object of his affections, a shepherdess who becomes enamoured of Touchstone, a commune of back-to-earthers headed by Rosalind’s mother, who also was banished, and the plot twists and turns through secret notes, trysts, actors hiding behind trees (it is Shakespeare after all), strange picnics and more. Every scene morphs smoothly into a Fab Four moment through songs like “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” “Can’t Buy Me Love” and “All you Need is Love,” high-energy, fancy footwork (a shout out to choreographer Jonathan Hawley Purvis) and toe-tapping music from a five-piece band helmed by musical director Ben Elliott (who also acts in the play).

This is a real ensemble piece and every cast member seems to give it their all. I was particularly impressed with Chelsea Rose’s vocals, as Rosalind. Oscar Derkx (Orlando) is boyishly charming and can also belt out a song. Elliott (Silvius) showcases his comedic chops in a raunchy pas de deux with Alexandra Lainfiesta (Phoebe). Finally, Scott Bellis, as Jacques, movingly delivers the iconic soliloquy “All the world’s a stage,” where the Bard explores the circle of life in seven stages, from babe to senile senior. Clad in a black turtleneck sweater and corduroy bell bottoms, Bellis is the quintessential beatnik. He also gets one of the best lines of the night – “I can suck melancholy out of a song as a weasel sucks eggs.”

Director Daryl Clonan can be proud of this latest iteration, which has toured through parts of Canada and the United States. The production values are top rate, starting with the glitzy set including a psychedelic VW parked at the back of the stage. Kudos to costume designer Carmen Alatorre for capturing the essence of the era – paisleys, acid-wash jeans, fringed vests, bell-bottoms, granny glasses, headbands and beads for the Okanagan granola set with Jackie O pillbox hats, white gloves, two-piece suits, chinos and polyester shirts for the urban crowd. And Gerald King’s lighting works wonders with a rainbow palette projected against Plexiglas panels that illuminate the tent backdrop of ocean and mountains.

***

In something completely different, the cast members of As You Like It also star in Julius Caesar, which plays alternating nights on the BMO Stage.

Bard on the Beach last produced Julius Caesar in 2007. This summer’s adaptation by Stephen Drover, set in modern times, brings novel perspectives to the classic tragedy of political ambition, jealousy, tyranny, treachery, mob rule, murder and revenge, and will resonate with contemporary audiences.

Despite the title, the real protagonist is Brutus, who grapples with his loyalty to Caesar and what he believes is the greater good of Rome, when approached by a group of senators to help assassinate Caesar. Hesitant at first, he ultimately joins the other senators in plotting Caesar’s demise – to take place at a meeting on the Ides (15th) of March. Though Caesar has been warned by a local soothsayer to beware that day, he ignores that warning and the pleas of his wife to stay home.

Caesar (an impressive Andrew Wheeler) arrives at the senate resplendent in a white business suit, topped off with a jaunty fedora, to the cheers of his people. Once there, Brutus and his fellow conspirators surround Caesar and, one by one, stab him, the final thrust coming from Brutus. In this viscerally haunting scene, Caesar falls to the ground, his white suit covered in red blood, as he utters his last words, “et tu, Brute,” surrounded by the conspirators, their hands dripping with blood.

At the state funeral, Brutus tries to convince the crowd that Caesar had to die for the good of Rome, but Mark Antony – a loyal friend to Caesar and a skilful orator – gives the “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears” speech, over a ghoulish glass coffin containing Caesar’s bloodied body. The crowd turns against the conspirators, who are forced to flee. Antony then summons Caesar’s nephew, Octavius, to raise an army to hunt down and kill the conspirators so that Caesar’s death can be avenged. This leads to a civil war, with the action coming right into the audience.

In the penultimate scene, Brutus, having been visited by Caesar’s bloodied ghost and surrounded by his fallen comrades, realizes that defeat is at hand and implores his trusty servant to kill him. Andrew McNee’s performance as Brutus in this scene is compelling.

The final scene is eerie, as Caesar’s ghost slowly walks off the stage into the sunset amid wisps of smoke.

Director Cherisse Richards has chosen to reverse many of the roles so that most of the conspirators are female, as is the role of Mark Antony, played by Jennifer Lines, who is simply sublime.

In another twist, Caesar’s wife, Calpurnia, and Portia, Brutus’s wife, appear more prominently in the adaptation, providing insights into the private lives and feelings of their husbands.

The stark set showcases a mix of old and new – jagged concrete columns evoke ancient Roman architecture, which morphs into tables, desks and even a wardrobe, against a backdrop of multimedia screens.

Jessica Oostergo’s warrior costumes are metaphors for good versus evil – Octavius’s allies clad in light khaki fatigues while Brutus’s side roams the stage in black and grey, looking like SWAT team members.

Video designer Candelario Andrade’s projections – spanning the spectrum from Joan of Arc, to Napoleon at Waterloo, to the Jan. 6, 2021, riots at the U.S. Capitol – accompanied by sound designer Kate Delorme’s ominous scores contextualize the action.

For Bard on the Beach tickets and the full schedule, which also includes Henry V and Goblin: Macbeth, visit bardonthebeach.org.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

Romeo & Juliet sublime

Ghazal Azarbad and Daniel Fong in Bard on the Beach’s Romeo and Juliet, which runs to Sept. 24. (photo by Tim Matheson)

William Shakespeare’s tragic love story, Romeo and Juliet, about teenaged lovers who come together despite the objections of their families, resonates with contemporary audiences as much as it did with the Elizabethan crowd.

Since it was written in 1595, ˆ has spawned countless adaptations, including the musical West Side Story, the animated feature Gnomeo and Juliet, and even a Palestinian girl meets Israeli boy version. So how do you present this well-known tale from a different angle? You do what director Anita Rochon did for this year’s Bard on the Beach production – start at the end, when Juliet wakes up in the family crypt next to dead Romeo, and flash back to the beginning. As well, tell the story from Juliet’s perspective, as she grapples with the question of how this situation came to be.

Rochon has taken some creative liberties with Shakespeare’s text, nipping and tucking here and there, and leaving out the characters of Lord Capulet and the Montague parents. Purists may not appreciate that surgery but will like that the play is set in its proper era. However, if you don’t know the story, the time line is a bit confusing, as the scenes jump around a bit, unlike the linear unfolding of the original text, so you should read the program summary beforehand.

From the minute you walk into the small tent and are met with the sight of the set, you know you’re in for a treat. Front and centre is an elevated marble-like tomb surrounded by 300 skulls strategically stacked around the macabre crypt, all bathed in flickering candlelight. The crypt’s massive iron doors open and close on an ever-changing backdrop as actors make their entries and exits. The tomb disappears into the ground on scene changes while a balustrade rises from the ground for the iconic balcony scene. Kudos to set designer Pam Johnson for a job well done.

The acting in this production is also first rate. Each and every one of the nine actors gets the job done. Daniel Fong as Romeo, Ghazal Azarbad as Juliet and Jennifer Lines as Lady Capulet are particularly strong in their roles. Fong nicely portrays the naïve confusion of the young swain while Azarbad shows strength of character and resolve not normally seen in depictions of teenage girls. The chemistry between the eponymous duo is palpable.

But it is Lines – morphing from gracious and charming party host to ferocious tiger mother when she gives Juliet the disinheritance ultimatum – who captures the essence of the play’s unspoken dilemma: Do we marry who our parents/families pick for us or do we marry who we love, no matter the consequences.

In a nod to role reversal, which seems to be the flavour of the season for Bard, Andrew McNee plays Juliet’s nurse, Sara Vickruck does double duty as the doomed Mercutio and the Apothecary and Anita Wittenberg plays Friar Laurence. McNee is one of the best comedic actors this city has, and his antics on the boards inject much-needed comic relief into an otherwise dark script.

Raising the production to sublime are the costumes (richly coloured, textured gowns for the ladies and sexy doublets and britches for the men), the dramatic lighting and the trio of choreographed sword fights – all backgrounded by the haunting tones of handheld bells that herald scene changes.

As Rochon points out in the program notes: “We know how their story ends and, in a way, we know how all our stories will end. The way we get there is where the mystery begins.”

You don’t have to be a hopeless romantic to appreciate the beauty of this production, which runs to Sept. 24 on the Howard Family Stage at Vanier Park. For tickets, visit bardonthebeach.org or call 604-739-0559.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

Dreamy Midsummer’s Night

The company of Bard on Beach’s production of Midsummer Night’s Dream. (photo by Tim Matheson)

The thespian delights of Shakespeare set against the glorious backdrop of mountains, sea and sky have been missed. But now, after a COVID-induced two-year hiatus, Bard on the Beach at Vanier Park is back with a bang, based on the audience buzz on opening night.

The comedy A Midsummer Night’s Dream, a perennial crowd pleaser, will occupy the BMO Mainstage all season. Harlem Duet, a tale of Black life spanning three periods in American history, runs until mid-July on the smaller Howard Family Stage, with Romeo and Juliet taking over that stage in August through to September.

This is the seventh time Bard has produced A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and this rendition has “hit” written all over it. It is one cheeky dream.

Set against the backdrop of the upcoming marriage of Athenian Duke Theseus (Ian Butcher) to foreign Queen Hippolyta (Melissa Oei), three stories weave their way through a mélange of mistaken identities, unrequited love, feuding fairy royalty and would-be actors, riotously intersecting in the enchanted wood outside of Athens.

Four young lovers, Hermia (Heidi Damayo), Lysander (Olivia Hutt), Helena (Emily Dallas) and Demetrius (Christopher Allen) dash through the woods in a mad, “looking for love romp” replete with a WWE-worthy cat fight and zingy insults.

Meanwhile, in the sylvan wonderland, Fairy King Oberon (Billy Marchenski) and his queen, Titania (Kate Besworth), are in the midst of a custody battle. Oberon sends his trusty servant, the mischievous Puck (Sarah Roa), to exact revenge on his queen with a potion meant to make her fall in love with the first thing she sees when she awakes.

Finally, we meet a troupe of bumbling tradesmen who seek refuge in the forest to rehearse Pyramus and Thisbe, the play they have written in honour of the duke’s pending nuptials. It is during this rehearsal, that one of them, Bottom (Carly Street), morphs into an ass, both literally and figuratively, and becomes the love interest of Titania.

In a nod to diversity and gender fluidity, director Scott Bellis (who knows this play from top to bottom, having performed in five of Bard’s previous Midsummer productions) has cast lovers Hermia and Lysander as a lesbian couple, while two of the tradesmen, Bottom and Snug (Jewish community member Advah Soudack), are played as females.

Bellis has also incorporated some interesting staging devices. Oberon arrives on stage on stilts, towering over his subjects. Bottom makes numerous asides to the audience and takes forays up the aisles. And the Mechanicals characters, at one point, move in a shuffling turntable motion around the stage.

Street steals the show as Bottom, the know-it-all of the working class group. Although given the lead of Pyramus, she wants to play all of the parts, thinking she can act better than the others. In her quest to prove this, she gives whole new meaning to the concept of emoting. It generally works and the audience loves it, although she often upstages her castmates.

Roa provides a refreshing spin on her impish character and Soudack, although in a minor role, is hilarious as the timid lion in Pyramus and Thisbe, as is Flute (Munish Sharma) as Thisbe, the reluctant object of Pyramus’s affection. Many of the actors are making their Bard debut and it is good to see new blood in the Vancouver theatre scene.

Jewish community members are prominent behind the scenes in this production. Amir Ofek’s set, backed by two leaded glass windows framing the view of the North Shore, easily transitions from the staid royal Athenian court to the warehouse of the tradesmen to the whimsy of the Oberon realm. Mishelle Cuttler, as sound designer/composer, provides original music that complements Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg’s ethereal choreography, as performed by students from the Simon Fraser University School of Contemporary Dance. You don’t usually get to see Shakespeare with so many dance elements, which adds an interesting layer to the mix.

Christine Reimer’s costumes are a delight – earth-toned, tailored day suits and cloche hats for the women, a white bejeweled gown for Titania, frothy candy-coloured tutus for the fairies and silky evening frocks for the final scene. Gerald King’s lighting – the greens, the purples, the reds – all work in harmony with the sun as it sets behind the stage.

To escape into the Bard’s fantasy world and enjoy the dream, visit bardonthebeach.org.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

To do or not to do (the Bard)

Bard on the Beach’s Done/Undone, written by Kate Besworth, co-stars Harveen Sandhu and Charlie Gallant. (photo from bardonthebeach.org)

Throughout COVID, Vancouver’s Bard on the Beach has been unable to mount its popular summer festival at Vanier Park. However, it is easing its way back into the hearts and minds of Shakespeare fans with its innovative film production Done/Undone, written by Kate Besworth and starring Bard veterans Charlie Gallant and Harveen Sandhu, who take on multiple and diverse roles. The creative team includes community member Mishelle Cuttler as sound designer.

The film raises many probing questions. Is time up for Shakespeare’s works in the #metoo, woke, cancel culture era? Is there room today for plays written 400 years ago that can be interpreted as misogynist (The Taming of the Shrew), racist (Othello) or antisemitic (The Merchant of Venice)? Are the Bard’s works not just the reflections of a white, privileged male, written for colonial audiences to glorify British mores and culture? Or was English writer Ben Johnson, who died in 1637, right when he said Shakespeare was “not a man of his age, but a man for all times?” Should any form of Bardolatry continue or should Shakespeare and his folios be laid to rest as we move forward with contemporary artists telling contemporary stories?

To answer these questions, the film, set against the backdrop of a working theatre, uses snappy vignettes to showcase the pros and cons of the debate with interesting and perhaps unexpected results.

It opens as the two actors arrive at the theatre to prepare for a production of Hamlet, and the question first arises. Sandhu appears as Shakespeare to state that the purpose of writing is to “hold a mirror to humanity,” as she lists off the myriad subjects that the Bard explored – the sea, star-crossed lovers, a donkey in the arms of a fairy queen, an exiled warrior, an emperor of Rome, a triumphant king, how choices matter, and how governments fail us.

We then are spectators to a battle of wits between dueling professors, explaining and emoting from their respective lecterns. Gallant emphatically argues that Shakespeare is a product of a white, patriarchal society, using words as a tool of cultural imperialism written, originally, for white men to perform (women were not allowed to act in Shakespeare’s times, so male actors would take on the female roles) and that there is no place today for his work. Sandhu counters that Shakespeare’s texts still evoke emotions that resonate within the contemporary world – his topics of love, hate, greed and lust are timeless and embedded in the human character, she argues. She sees Shakespeare as remarkably progressive, with many of his characters in gender-fluid roles and with his portrayals of strong women – Rosalind, Cleopatra and Lady Macbeth, to name a few. His works can provide teaching moments, says Sandhu, giving the examples of Taming of the Shrew to show the harm that misogyny causes, King Lear, the scourge of elder abuse, and Othello and Merchant as vehicles to elicit tolerance and empathy in society.

Other vignettes in the film include a Bard board member – a neurosurgeon – who, during an opening night audience address, poignantly recounts the solace he found in the dark spaces of the theatre during a production of King Lear after the loss of a patient. He says that darkness was the escape from the reality of his grief.

Another scenario depicted is a couple taking in a performance of Romeo and Juliet, where the woman is clearly more into it than her male partner, who finds the Shakespearean language highbrow and difficult to understand.

Then there are the gothic, spectre-like creatures who denounce the Bard’s portrayal of women and Blacks in a macabre pas de deux; a talkback session after a Measure for Measure performance, where the female actor embarks on a scathing indictment of colour-blind casting; and the finale, in French, as the two actors attend an inventive Shakespeare festival in Montreal.

Shakespeare’s influence is global. At any given time, somewhere on the planet, one of his plays is being produced, either in its original form or as an adaptation. Do we judge him with our contemporary lens or should we remember the times in which he wrote and appreciate his genius? Done/Undone is a thoughtful and intelligent production that seamlessly blends the worlds of cinema and theatre, and considers some difficult questions. It leaves you to draw your own conclusions.

Done/Undone, with a run time of 76 minutes, is available for streaming online until Sept. 30. Tickets can be purchased at bardonthebeach.org or from the box office at 604-739-0559.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

Bard’s strong summer lineup

Jennifer Lines and Andrew McNee in The Taming of the Shrew. (photo by Tim Matheson)

Bard on the Beach celebrates its 30th season with an eclectic, nontraditional mix of three Shakespeare plays – a western Taming of the Shrew, a Bollywood All’s Well that Ends Well and Coriolanus, a political drama with gender reversal – and a stage version of the Oscar-winning movie Shakespeare in Love.

A Western-style Shrew

How do you present Shakespeare’s tale of a strong-willed woman brought to her knees by a tormenting husband in today’s #metoo world? Can you justify staging a misogynistic play in the 21st century? That was the dilemma facing director Lois Anderson, who played the female lead in 2012. Her solution? Take some liberties with the script – nip it here, tuck it there, add in some role and speech reversals, set it in the American Wild West of the 1870s. While purists may bemoan the surgery, there is a lot to like about this production.

In Shrew, Lucentio (Kamyar Pazandeh), the son of a wealthy merchant from Pisa, comes to Padua to study and is smitten by Bianca (Kate Besworth), the lovely younger daughter of Madam Baptista (Susinn McFarlen). He is resolved to marry her but the good Madam insists that her older daughter, Katherine (Jennifer Lines), must be married off first. Unfortunately, Kate has the reputation of being an über shrew and none of the local men sees her as wife material. Enter Petruchio (Andrew McNee), a down-on-his-luck Veronan who has come to Padua to “wife it wealthily” and sees Kate (and her dowry) as both a challenge and an answer to his prayers.

Their first meeting is a fiery battle of evenly matched wits and an insight into things to come as the “taming” journey begins from a spontaneous marriage proposal, through the outlandish wedding to the honeymoon in a canvas tent on the range. The scene with Petruchio’s men lounging around the campfire singing in harmony about tumbleweed is a harbinger of Kate’s metamorphosis from the shrew to the good wife.

Meanwhile, back in Padua, now that Kate has been married off, Bianca’s admirers are set to woo her. Lucentio and Hortensio (Jewish community member Anton Lipovetsky) disguise themselves as tutors to vie for her affections. Lucentio wins the battle of the swains, the couple elopes and Hortensio consoles himself by marrying a wealthy widow. Kate and Petruchio return to Padua to celebrate the nuptials and a wager is made among the three grooms as to which wife will be the most obedient and come when called. Although Kate is the one who appears to obsequiously respond, she makes her final exit with a bang.

Lines is stellar as Kate. We see her feisty side when she lassoes her sister Bianca and drags her around the room, when she throws a flowerpot out of a window onto a mocking crowd below and when she breaks a lute over Hortensio’s head – Lipovetsky plays the part with great comedic timing. We also see Kate’s more vulnerable side, as she sits alone contemplating her spinsterhood and what is, in essence, the bullying she endures from the townsfolk.

Petruchio’s character has been made into a kinder, gentler soul, more palatable to today’s sensibilities, but the nice guy doesn’t always mesh with the mean one Shakespeare wrote. That said, McNee is strong in his portrayal and you cannot help but like him. It helps that the chemistry between the two leads is palpable – their characters are outsiders who have finally found their soul mates and revel in the discovery.

The production values are high for Shrew. Mara Gottler has done a stellar job with the costumes, the colourful frocks worn by the women, the cowboy dusters and the urban togs of the localites. Cory Sincennes’ set is simple, with the opening scene of Padua City’s main street readying for a summer fête easily morphing into the Baptista sitting room or a saloon. Gerald King’s lighting design and Malcolm Dow’s western sound design, replete with sounds of galloping horses in a very funny pony express scene, complete the theme.

This Shrew is certainly worth seeing but it would have been better with the original script, acknowledging the culture of the Elizabethan period regarding the treatment of the “fairer” sex and opening the dialogue about how far women have come in the past 400 years and how much further there is to go. After all, you don’t take the antisemitism out of Merchant of Venice or the elder abuse out of King Lear – and you should not take the misogyny out of The Taming of the Shrew. Shakespeare’s works, warts and all, should be looked at through a 16th-century lens, not a modern one.

The Bard in India

photo - Edmund Stapleton and Sarena Parmar in All’s Well that Ends Well — Edmund Stapleton and Sarena Parmar in All’s Well that Ends Well. *(photo by Tim Matheson)*

All’s Well that Ends Well defies classification into one of Shakespeare’s genres – comedy or tragedy. Bard on the Beach plays it as the former and it pays off, with an audience-pleasing feast of colour, music, bhangra dancing and swordplay.

The setting is 1946 India in a country on the cusp of independence from British rule prior to the partition with Pakistan, which divided the country into Hindu and Muslim nations. The story revolves around Helena (Sarena Parmar), an upper-class Hindu physician’s daughter and ward of the aristocratic British Countess (Lucia Frangione), who falls in love with the Countess’s soldier son, Bertram (Edmund Stapelton). Bertram is dismissive of Helena, considering her beneath his station.

However, Helena is determined to have him. The Viceroy (Bernard Cuffling) is ailing and near death. Helena, remembering her now-deceased father’s various remedies, offers to treat the Viceroy in exchange for the right to marry any man of her choosing. But, while she gets her wish and Bertram is forced to marry her, he abandons her to go to battle. He leaves behind a letter stating that he will not live with Helena as her spouse until she retrieves a ring he is wearing and bears him a child.

In Delhi, Bertram meets virginal but coquettish Diana (Pam Patel) and seduces her (so he thinks) but Helena has previously met with her and made plans to trade places with Diana in the bed chamber. This deception allows her to meet Bertram’s conditions and finally convince him that she is worthy of him – although why she would want such a cad is beyond comprehension.

Helena’s journey of self-discovery is symbolized by her sartorial choices, as she changes from Western garb to a traditional sari by the end of the play, paralleling the Indian journey from colonization and British rule to independence.

It is nice to see the diversity of cast in this production and the use of Hindi dialogue, particularly by Diana’s mother, the widow (Veenesh Dubois). Parmar is lovely as Helena, Cuffling a grouchy but avuncular Viceroy. David Marr as Lafeu, the minister, is hilarious and Jeff Gladstone as Parolles, one of Bertram’s military mates, steals the show with his slapstick antics. Newcomer Patel as Diana is a breath of fresh air. The ensemble dancers under the direction of choreographer Poonam Sandhu and the two Gurkha guards, Munish Sharma and Nadeem Phillip, bring authenticity to the onstage movement.

This show is all about the visuals – the set, the costumes, the dancing and the lighting. Kudos to costume designer Carmen Alatorre for her stylish choices and to set designer Pam Johnson for the stunning terracotta arched set, which transitions from a palatial Delhi home to a Punjabi marketplace brimming with colour and activity. Co- directors Rohit Chokhani and Johnna Wright, with their talented cast and crew, have created a gem. This fusion of East meets West is a winner.

Fall for Shakespeare

photo - Charlie Gallant, left, and Anton Lipovetsky in Shakespeare in Love — Charlie Gallant, left, and Anton Lipovetsky in Shakespeare in Love. *(photo by Tim Matheson)*

As director Daryl Clonan – who helmed last year’s hit, As You Like It, Beatlemania-style – said to the opening night crowd of Shakespeare in Love, this play is a love letter to the theatre. Not only that but it is great fun. The costumes, the acting, the set, the ambience, all do honour to its namesake 1998 film starring Joseph Fiennes and Gwyneth Paltrow. The movie took the cinematic world by storm, winning seven Oscars, including best picture, and this summer’s stage version is set to wow Vancouver audiences.

The story is set in period, the early 1600s. The Bard (dashing Charlie Gallant) is suffering from writer’s block as he works on a new play, Romeo and Ethel and the Pirate’s Daughter. His inspiration ultimately arrives in the form of muse Viola De Lesseps (Ghazal Azarbad), the daughter of a wealthy merchant, who dreams of acting on stage. However, as women were not allowed thespian careers at that time, she has to disguise herself as Thomas Kent in order to audition for Shakespeare’s new play. As Kent, she gets the part of Romeo.

Meanwhile, Shakespeare meets Viola and falls for her – and she for him, although she has been promised to Lord Wessex, a nasty fortune-hunting aristocrat who plans to whisk her away to his family’s Virginia tobacco plantations.

This show has something in it for animal lovers (the dog Spot is a scene stealer), movie buffs and, of course, Shakespeare mavens, who will delight in identifying the various lines from the Bard’s repertoire, the play-within-a-play, mistaken identities, swordplay, a balcony scene, an in flagrante delicto moment and more.

The ensemble cast is terrific and Gallant and Azarbad are sublime in their portrayals of the two lovers, who enjoy some steamy moments behind the bed curtains. Jennifer Lines has a small but memorable role as a regal and stately Queen Elizabeth I. Mention must also be made of newcomer Jason Sakaki, who plays Sam, the young boy who plays Juliet until opening night, when his voice changes, giving Viola a chance to tread the boards without hiding her gender. Kit Marlowe (Austin Eckert), one of Shakespeare’s competitors, has been given an enhanced role in this rendering and he helps Shakespeare muddle his way through Sonnet #18: “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day….”

Four Jewish community members are involved in this production. Warren Kimmel – last seen at Bard as Shylock in The Merchant of Venice – plays Fennyman, a local impressario who takes a share in one of Shakespeare’s plays and, while it is a small role, Kimmel plays it to the comedic max. Anton Lipovetsky makes the unctuous groom Lord Wessex utterly repellent, Mishelle Cuttler provides a potpourri of baroque melodies as sound designer and musical director, and Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg’s work as movement coach adds energy and playfulness, as it does in The Taming of the Shrew.

Set and costume designer Cory Sincennes once again keeps the set simple, a stark sepia-coloured Globe Theatre, but goes all out on a colourful feast of costumes.

This will likely be the hit of the season.

Three of the four Bard productions are up and running; Corialanus opens Aug. 21. For the schedule and tickets visit bardonthebeach.org or call 604-739-0559.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

Eclectic mix of plays at Bard

Left to right are Jennifer Lines, Quelemia Sparrow and Marci T. House, who form part of the cast of Lysistrata. (photo by David Cooper)

At Bard on the Beach this summer, there is an eclectic mix of plays. There is Macbeth, set in its proper period, which runs in repertory on the BMO Stage with a Beatlemania version of As You Like It. On the more intimate Howard Family Stage, there is an experimental gender-role reversal take on little-known Timon of Athens and Lysistrata, a somewhat X-rated farcical romp through an ancient Greek tale, with a contemporary twist.

For Lysistrata, University of Victoria professor Jennifer Wise (Canadian Jewish Playwriting Competition winner) collaborated with director Lois Anderson to adapt Aristophanes’ 411 BCE comedic protest play about a group of Athenian and Spartan women who, tired of their husbands’ endless war-mongering, reluctantly decide to withhold sex until the men vow to give up fighting and stay at home with their families. You can probably guess what ultimately happens. But, to get there, the audience is led through a Monty Python meets Saturday Night Live series of misadventures replete with double entendres, an interesting use of plastic pool noodles and plenty of rollicking action.

The play’s backstory is Bard’s scheduled production of an all-female Hamlet that morphs into a dramatis interruptus as the company decides, at the last minute and with profuse apologies to the audience and artistic director Christopher Gaze, to stage Lysistrata this one night only to protest the pending rezoning of Vanier Park to make way for a shipping terminal. This leads to a lot of backing-and-forthing through ancient Greece and modern-day Vancouver interspersed with the ever-sublime Colleen Wheeler, as Hamlet, trying to get her “to be or not to be” soliloquy in, despite the change in plans, as she hauls “poor Yorick’s skull” around the set.

This is truly an ensemble cast and every member shines, but special mention must be made of Luisa Jojic’s role as the eponymous ring leader, Jennifer Lines as Mother Earth and Quelemia Sparrow’s poignant performance as an indigenous actor.

Mention must also be made of the two male artists (Sebastien Archibald and Joel D. Montgrand) who, as uniformed police officers, “stop” the performance to arrest one of the actors – who has defaced the rezoning signs and plastered graffiti all over the crab sculpture in front of the Planetarium – for public mischief. It all seems very real and is very funny, especially since one of the cops plays Wheeler’s husband, Ross.

In addition to Wise, other Jewish community members play prominent roles in the production. Mishelle Cutler makes her Bard debut as music director and one-woman orchestra. She uses 1930s Weimar cabaret-style music for the contemporary scenes, and opera and choral works for the more classic Greek theatre bits. Choreographer Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg takes that music and provides novel dance moves, especially for the quirky geriatric men versus women Athenian reel.

In keeping with the environmental theme of the night, the costumes and accessories are simple, to give credence to the improvised nature of the show. Head gear is made of hand bags, recycled water bottles and paper toilet rolls, a Starbucks cup does double duty as a wine chalice, costumes made from curtain rods and drapes (à la Carol Burnett’s iconic Gone With the Wind outfit) mix in with the actors’ own street clothes.

Ultimately, this mélange of Shakespeare, Greek theatre and contemporary activism should resonate with all of us, as we grapple with the reality of development in this city and its impact on our heritage and our way of life. While this show is a lot of fun, it may not be suitable for children under the age of 13.

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Sometimes, you have to take risks with Shakespeare and director Meg Roe certainly does so with this adaptation of Timon of Athens. She admits in her notes that it is a “difficult play” and that it may not have been written solely by the Bard. It is the tale of a wealthy Athenian who wines and dines his friends and showers them with expensive gifts until he gets into financial difficulty. When he approaches those friends for help, they refuse. This sends him into a rage and, ultimately, to his death.

In the original version, the cast is predominantly male. In this adaptation, it is 2018, the set is a high-end condo in Vancouver and the cast is reminiscent of the Real Housewives women – uber wealthy, stiletto-heeled and shallow, constantly on their pinging/chirping phones.

Wheeler is sublime in her role as Timon and her manic meltdown into madness alone is worth the price of a ticket. She literally destroys the set. You have to give kudos to the stage crew, who have to rebuild the set for every performance, and to the costumers, who have to replace her white pantsuit every show. The set is stylish and sleek and the couture frocks divine. But, in the end, the basic takeaway is that money can’t buy you friends.

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This summer’s Macbeth is the way Shakespeare intended it to be – in its proper Elizabethan period, with a stark set and eerie smoke and lighting effects. Perfect for a tale of greed, lust for power and revenge.

Early in the play, Macbeth (Ben Carlson) encounters three witches (the ones with the famous brew that includes the “liver of a blaspheming Jew”) who predict that he will be king of Scotland. Once Lady Macbeth (Moya O’Connell) hears of this, she sets out to convince her husband to murder King Duncan when the king visits their castle so that he, Macbeth, can reign. And so begins their downward spiral towards murder, death, destruction and madness.

Carlson and O’Connell are the crème de la crème of Canadian acting and exude an intense chemistry as the plotting Scots. Special mention must be made of Andrew Wheeler as a gruff Macduff and Craig Erickson as a ghostly Banquo.

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Bard’s As You Like It is the must-see show of the summer. It is definitely a crowd-pleaser. And you will want to see it over and over again. Director Daryl Cloran has taken out half the Shakespearean text and inserted 25 of the Beatles’ top hits where appropriate in this tale of four pairs of young lovers (and the obstacles in their paths) so that, when one of the pairs, Rosalind (Lindsey Angell) and Orlando (Nadeem Phillip), locks eyes the for the first time, he breaks out in, “She loves you, ya, ya, ya.” Every situation easily morphs into a Beatles’ moment through songs like “Help,” “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” “Eight Days a Week” and so forth. The 1960s setting is split between urban Vancouver and the Okanagan, where various characters are exiled by the new duke on the block. There, in the wilderness, the four love stories unfold.

In addition, there is a pre-show display of Wildcat Wrestling, a psychedelic VW van parked on stage, a terrific four-piece band led by musical director Ben Elliott who does double duty as love-struck Silvius and is one half of a memorable and raunchy pas de deux with Jojic as Phoebe the shepherdess. That girl can belt out a song.

The standouts are the protagonists Angell and Phillip – they both sing and dance up a storm – Kayvon Khoshkam, who is simply terrific as the wrestling master of ceremonies and then later as the court fool, Touchstone, and Ben Carlson who, as the stereotypical beatnik, intellectual elitist, gives the audience a new take on the “all the world’s a stage” speech.

This is a fast-paced, fun night of music, song and dance that will have you humming these tunes all the way back home. Even old Will himself is probably rocking in his grave over Stratford-upon-Avon way.

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Bard on the Beach runs to Sept. 22. For tickets to any of the shows and more information, go to bardonthebeach.org or call the box office at 604-739-0559.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

Modern-day Merchant

Warren Kimmel (Shylock), left, with Charlie Gallant (Bassanio) in Bard on the Beach’s Merchant of Venice. (photo by David Blue)

It is always hard as a Jew to watch Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice, which has been characterized at one end of the spectrum as purely antisemitic and at the other as sympathetic to the plight of outsiders. Each vicious epithet hurled at Shylock, the Jewish protagonist, hits you in the gut like a ton of bricks. However, the play has to be considered in the context that Shakespeare likely had never even met a Jew.

Jews were expelled from England in 1290 and not invited back until the 1650s, by Oliver Cromwell. England was judenrein (“free of Jews”) for almost 400 years. Merchant was written between 1594 and 1599. How, then, could Shakespeare write such virulent diatribes against Jews? Was he influenced by the zeitgeist of his time or was he trying to preach a morality lesson to Elizabethan audiences? Bard on the Beach takes on the daunting task of presenting this “sinister parable of our times,” as director Nigel Shawn Williams calls it in his director’s notes.

The story revolves around Bassanio (Charlie Gallant), a Venetian lord and bankrupt fortune hunter, who needs 3,000 ducats (apparently close to three-quarters of a million in today’s dollars) to woo Belmont heiress Portia (Olivia Hutt) so that he can wed wealthily. His friend, Antonio (Edward Foy), a successful shipping merchant, urges him to borrow the sum from Shylock (Jewish community member Warren Kimmel) and agrees to stand surety for the loan. Shylock, who has been humiliated and abused by Antonio and his ilk, sees an opportunity for revenge and agrees to lend the money on the condition that if there is a default he gets a pound of Antonio’s flesh. Antonio’s ships run aground, he cannot repay the loan and Shylock demands his bond in a dramatic court room scene that includes the “Quality of Mercy” speech and, unfortunately, a not-so-happy ending for Shylock.

Fast-forward several centuries and enter cosmopolitan Venice as presented in Bard’s contemporary take on this play. It is a world inhabited by self-centred metrosexuals with a sense of entitlement, where money and power carry the day. These guys are not very nice and anyone who does not fit their worldview is an outsider deserving of contempt. The play opens with a frenetic scene as actors bustle to and fro. Shylock enters the melee, is tripped by Antonio and falls flat on his face amid the jeering crowd – a harbinger of what is to come.

I have seen all four of Bard’s productions of Merchant since it was first presented in 1996 – this one raises the bar, although there are some shaky bits along the way. While purists decry taking Shakespearean works out of period, putting Merchant in a contemporary business setting full of suits will resonate with audiences.

photo - Warren Kimmel is sublime in his dignified portrayal of Shylock in Bard on the Beach’s Merchant of Venice — Warren Kimmel is sublime in his dignified portrayal of Shylock in Bard on the Beach’s Merchant of Venice. *(photo by David Blue)*

Despite the fact that I cringed every time Shylock was spat upon or called a Jew dog, I was moved by Kimmel’s “Hath a Jew not eyes” soliloquy, his heartbreak on learning that his daughter Jessica (Carmela Sison) had eloped with gentile Lorenzo (Chirag Naik), his soulful rendition of the Kaddish and his isolation as he sat alone in the courtroom facing his antagonists. Kimmel is sublime in his dignified portrayal of Shylock. You really care about what happens to him.

While Antonio is the merchant of Venice and Shylock the victim, this Bard version is very much about Portia and her plight as a woman facing stereotypical and misogynistic restrictions. We first see this when she has to endure the indignity of being the prize (wife) in a game devised by her now-deceased father for three would-be suitors. Each has the chance to pick one of three caskets (gold, silver and lead) that contains her photograph. The first two, Prince of Morocco (Nadeem Phillip) and Prince of Aragon (Paul Moniz de Sa), are brilliant in their cameo roles. In other productions, they are played as buffoons. Here they are elegantly dressed but smarmy and unctuous and, thank goodness, ultimately unsuccessful in their casket choices. Then along comes Bassanio, who picks the right casket (“all that glimmers is not gold”) and wins fair lady.

Portia’s next trial is the real one, where she disguises herself as a young lawyer and listens carefully to Shylock’s pleas for justice. It is in this scene that Hutt truly shines as the quick-witted and resourceful heroine Shakespeare intended her to be.

As good as the production is, there are some problems. Many of the actors spend a lot of time yelling their lines, which is distracting. I was offended by the Nazi salute Solania (Kate Besworth) made when mocking Shylock. It adds nothing to the story and should be taken out. There is a short homoerotic scene between Bassanio and Antonio, including a full-on mouth-to-mouth kiss, that seemed out of place, and Shylock’s forced conversion to Christianity is played down – he is told he must convert and simply walks off the stage, leaving the audience to wonder what happened to the bankrupt and humiliated moneylender.

Production values are high, including some interesting freeze-frame moments. The stage is at floor level, making for a very intimate audience experience. The stark minimalist set allows the focus to be on the dialogue. High-tech gadgets like cellphones, laptops and iPads seamlessly fit into the mix, and Drew Facey’s stylishly chic costumes are structured and fitted for urban Venice, and softer and looser for coastal Belmont. Conor Moore’s projections, Adrian Muir’s lighting and Patrick Pennefather’s sound, a mélange of contemporary and classical music, provide the finishing touches.

This is an intelligent, moving production. See it, consider it, discuss it. Tickets for this and other Bard shows can be purchased at bardonthebeach.org or 604-739-0559.

Tova Kornfeld is a Vancouver freelance writer and lawyer.

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Also on stage …

Running on the Main Stage at Bard on the Beach is Much Ado About Nothing with The Winter’s Tale. Director John Murphy has transported the comedy of Much Ado into a 1950s Italian film studio. Think Fellini, Sophia Loren, Vespas and fabulous cocktail dresses.

The story is boy meets girl, they profess to hate each other and then realize (with a little nudging from family and friends) that maybe they are right for each other. Of course, to get to the final epiphany, there are lots of misadventures, including mistaken identities, a young bride left at the altar and a faked death. As the program guide notes, “Friendships are tested, secrets are revealed but will love conquer all?” Amber Lewis and Kevin MacDonald are stellar as in the main roles of Beatrice (one of Shakespeare’s feistiest female characters) and Benedick. Community member Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg’s choreography is featured in this fun foray.

The Two Gentleman of Verona, which is on the Howard Family Stage, is also very good. Friedenberg choreographed some of the movement in this production as well, and her work is lovely. This production also stars a real dog, a basset hound named Gertie, who almost steals the show without doing anything but coming out on stage and mournfully looking at the audience.

– TK