Much Ado About Nothing

Reviewed by Gray Palmer
T.U. Studios
Through September 18

RECOMMENDED

Seeing the production of Much Ado About Nothing, Shakespeare’s double-wedding comedy, now playing at T.U. Studios, may be the next best thing to actually attending a wedding. (There will be a chorus of divorcees and others saying, “Better,” but never mind.)

In many versions of Much Ado, we simply wait during the intervening scenes for the reappearance of Beatrice and Benedick, so that we may continue to follow the skirmishes of the witty Bs. But at this Much Ado — a very American wedding party — our native Muse is not exclusive. Director Gloria Gifford’s equal care for individual performers has resulted in a happy revision of the story-balance: All the minor characters with their particular worlds come forward at each appointed time. New worlds upon worlds! And the effect, for some old hands, may be like Galileo’s discovery of the moons of Jupiter. This enriched Much Ado is almost a new play.

The success of this show is unique to a conservatory discipline. The quality of this ensemble’s work simply can’t be achieved, except by wild luck, through commercial methods of production (a few weeks of rehearsal by a company of strangers — and a star or two).

The Gloria Gifford Conservatory Players is comprised of her students, many of them with her for years. Some of the principal roles have been cast with as many as six players, so that the beautiful show I saw on opening night will never be repeated exactly. But the durable staging will be the same, and also, I’m sure, the disciplined approach of the players. And there will be the special occasion at each performance of a new principal stepping forward from the corps.

This Much Ado is filled with the music of Otis Redding, Bill Withers, Barry White, James Brown, Michael Jackson, Carla Thomas, Janis Joplin… and many others. This is not Ye Olde Shakespeare Bunne Shoppe. In the music, the Players esprit de corps is deployed with great showmanship. When Claudio steps forward to lip-synch/sing-a-long and dance to a sorrowful musical number (during Act 5, at the monument to Hero, whom he believes to be dead), he is backed-up by a line of dancers — and each of them will play Claudio on another night. When Hero (about to depart for her wedding catastrophe) steps forward to perform “A Piece of My Heart,” she is backed-up by the Ladies of Messina, five of whom will also play Hero on another night.

The opening night audience was idiotized with delight. We saw Chad Dorick, high-spirited as Benedick; Tejah Signori, a promising comedienne, as Beatrice; Kasia Pilewicz, from the heights to the depths never a wrong note as Hero; Keith Walker, a splendid young leading man, as Claudio.

Then there were the revelatory performances of the often neglected or slighted characters. They came in clusters. I have never seen the older figures in this story played with such clarity, ease, and charm: Justin Truesdale as Leonato, Christian Maltez as Antonio, and Jeff Hamasaki Brown, wonderful as Don Pedro.

Dylan George as the lunatic, malaprop-spewing, moronic constable Dogberry, and Joshua Farmer, as his friend Verges, together gave an alarmingly athletic performance of James Brown’s “Get On Offa That Thing.”

Much Ado About Nothing has villains, of course. Don John is a disappointed, twisted spoiler of love. We gather that his own love has been corrupted near its source: he is, in fact, a love-child, the illegitimate brother to the most favored prince of the story, and therefore, under primogeniture, occupying one of the worst social positions for a male. The character is especially menacing because he reveals so little.

Billy Budinich as Don John, radiating cold resentment, seemed to slightly change the temperature of the room at each appearance. This is an actor to watch. Equally good were his fellow intriguers, Sam Mansour as Conrade, and Antonio Roccucci (I predict we’ll see a lot of this actor) as Borachio.

At the happy conclusion, in the final sorting-out, after the fairy-tale “resurrection” of Hero, when the two Bs stop chattering to kiss, the bastard Don John is missing from the party (much as Caliban is absent at a similar point in The Tempest). Don John is referred to in the text, though Shakespeare does not have him present onstage. But here, director Gifford brings him back for his musical number, Barry White’s “You’ll Never Find,” while he points an accusing finger at the wedding revellers, then wonderfully vanishes, as though through a trap door. Delightful.

T.U. Studios, 10943 Camarillo Ave., North Hollywood; Sat. 8 pm.; Sun. 7:30 pm.; through September 18. (310) 366-5505, tix.com. Running time: two hours 15 minutes with intermission.