Sheila Correa, Misha Suvorov-Costard, Erin Manker and Sara Neal. (Photo by Chris Garcia)
Reviewed by F. Kathleen Foley
Long Beach Shakespeare Company at The Helen Borgers Theatre
Through February 17th
Shakespeare’s early comedy Love’s Labour’s Lost is traditionally one of the Bard’s less frequently produced plays, although recent decades have included stagings by the Royal Shakespeare Company and the National Theatre, and a well-received, recent production with music at the Stratford Festival. Director Kenneth Branagh even musicalized the material in a 2000 film, but his effort foundered, both at the box office and with critics.
When contrasted with Shakespeare’s other comedies, it’s easy to see why Labour has lagged in popularity. Its actual plot is notably silly, even by Shakespeare’s farcical standards (and that’s saying something!) while the text lacks much of the epigrammatic cleverness so common to Shakespeare’s later works.
However, for those who have never had the opportunity to see it, the play’s current production by Long Beach Shakespeare Company at the Helen Borgers Theatre is a rare opportunity. It’s also a bit of a mixed blessing. The boldly slashed adaptation by Maren English, who also directs, elides many of the scenes and characters from the original. That truncation keeps the action thrumming — but that brevity can come at the expense of coherence.
The action opens as Ferdinand, the King of Navarre (Sol Mason) contracts two ready young scholars, who have joined his court, to a binding oath — to foreswear the company of women for three years so that they can concentrate on their studies without distractions. The young noble Dumaine (Shane Weikel) readily agrees to the pact, but the wryly witty Berowne (Andrew Tyrell-Smith) has his reservations. Not only must he swear off women, but he balks at other harsh restrictions — e.g., stringent fasting and three hours of sleep per night. However, under pressure, he signs on, and the men commence their female-free lives. Call this the Elizabethan equivalent of the Little Rascals’ He-Man Woman Hater’s Club.
Also call this the shortest oath on record. When the Princess of France (Sara Neal), in lieu of her ailing father, arrives at Ferdinand’s court on a diplomatic mission, she and her attendant ladies Rosaline (Amanda Nahin) and Katherine (Julianne Holmquist) are denied access to the King’s court and relegated to a camp on the exterior grounds. Despite that lack of propinquity, the gals immediately turn our heroes’ heads. The men quickly abandon their intended ascetism and, as quickly as you can say hey nonny nonny, they set out to win the ladies fair. In response, the women playfully mock their ardent suitors in a series of increasingly wacky stratagems.
Bizarreness abounds, as when the lovelorn guys disguise themselves as “Muscovites,” complete with broad Russian accents, so that they can woo the women. (Why, exactly, is anybody’s guess. Maybe English’s adaptation jettisons the motivation.) Of course, the women then don disguises to confuse their amorous suitors. The antics eventually lead to an al fresco play, with the onlookers cheerfully munching popcorn during the performance. But just as the hilarity is reaching its height, a messenger arrives with the news that the Princess’s father has died. It’s an abrupt plunge from the comical to the melancholy, not to mention one of the strangest denouements in the Shakespearean canon.
The cast may not be RADA ready, but they are an engaging lot who tackle their roles with youthful enthusiasm in a primarily pleasant diversion. And, silliness aside, Shakespeare’s seminal work presages his later mastery. In particular, Rosaline and the caustically witty Berowne hold interest as early prototypes for Beatrice and Benedick and Beatrice from Much Ado About Nothing.
If there is a fault with the production, other than the rudimentary set and flat lighting, it’s largely directorial. Granted, there are a number of broad and inventive strokes in the staging — frequent pop music stings, a character sporting sunglasses (oddly out of keeping with the stringent period attire), the popcorn munching and the Big Gulp slurping, etc. Yet adapter English straddles the line between the straight and the slapstick, never fully committing to the pure, outlandish nuttiness that could have made these Labours less laborious and more consistently entertaining.
Long Beach Shakespeare Company at The Helen Borgers Theatre, 4250 Atlantic Ave., Long Beach. Thurs. Feb. 1 only; ,8 p.m.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m. (No show Fri. Feb 2.) Sunday, 2 p.m. Feb. 4 only. Ends February 17. www.LBShakespeare.org 2 hours and 15 minutes with an intermission.
