Shakespeare Straight & Tragic

"Like it or find fault, do as your pleasures are."

THIS WEEKEND Harvard gets yet another opportunity to indulge in a masochistic bout of Shakespearean tragedy, this time via Ben Evett's new production of Trothis and Cressida Creatively staged and deftly directed. Evett's production is as successful as any rendition of a largely uninteresting and confused story can be.

The story of two helpless lovers caught in the crossfire of the Trojan war, Troilus and Cressida is neither one of Shakespeare's most popular pays nor one of his best written. Skipping over the Judgement of Paris and the tale of the wooden horse--two eminently more interesting anecdotes from the Trojan War--Shakespeare begins his story seven years into the conflict when armed engagement has reached a standstill. Both armies entrench while their respective leaders reconsider their strategies. Ulysses (Adam Smith Albion), a sort of Greek Henry Kissinger, formulates a plan which will serve the dual purpose of reanimating the Greeks best fighter, the now lazy and spaced-out Achilles (Patrick Bradford), as well as do away with the Trojan he-man Hector (Maja Hellmold).

Troilus (Nick Davis). Hector's younger brother and puppy-dog adulator, is distracted from the more sanguinary, duties of war by the lovely Cressida (Laurie Galluccio). vigil daughter of a Trojan defector. After much hemming and hawing, the two innocents manage to get together with a little help from Cressida's uncle Pandarus (Nick Lawrence) only to discover that a Greco-Trojan conference committee has decided that Cressida must be turned over to enemy camp in exchange for a Trojan prisoner-of-war. Thus, the play ends with Troilus and Cressida cursing the Gods on Mount Olympus, Pandarus cursing himself for ever having gotten involved in such a mess, and the Greeks and Trojans cursing each other as the war picks up speed once again.

AN EXTENSIVE 20-MEMBER CAST features everything from the unusual to the bizarre to the spectacular. A foot and a half shorter and 50 pounds lighter than her Trojan cohorts, Maja Hellmond's first appearance on stage as Hector is disconcerting to an audience accustomed to some Homeric vision of the Greek hero. Although Hellmond does a good job of trying to make the audience forget that she is a girl, the physical constraints of the role complicate her portrayal. Battling with Bradford, Hellmond manages to throw him over her shoulders only with a great deal of assistance from her costar.

Another casting innovation concerns the roles of Menelaus, Helen of Troy's husband, and Paris, Helen of Troy's lover, both played by Jeff Rossman. It's no wonder that Menelaus doesn't look too worried about recapturing his wandering wife when the Greeks sit down to plot strategies--he knows that he has only to wait for the next scene change to take her in his arms and whisper sweet Grecian nothings into her ear.

In a more traditional vein, Albion is a revelation as Ulysses. Strutting around the stage to the delight of his fellow Grecians as well as the audience. Albion felicitously slides into character. Because Ulysses is unmistakibly Shakespeare's favorite character Albion has the bard's most eloquent prose an his dispoal, of which he takes full advantage.

Second only to Albion are P. Brien Lasolino as Thersites, the urchan fool who serves as a go between for the Grecian and Trojan camps, and NIck Lawrence as Pandarus. As written by Shakespeare, Thersites provides the audience with a running commentary cum critique of the main players in the tragedy. Pondering on what it would be like to be Menelaus, Thersites remarks "to be an ass, were nothing, be is both ass and ox; to be an ox, were nothing, he is both ox and ass. To be a dog, a mule a cat, a finch, a toad, a lizzard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a toe. I would not care, but to be Menelaus, I woud conspire against destiny." Scratching her head, pulling at her suit of rags and slobbering over a bottle of brew, Fasolino's Thersites is convulsive. Excellently staged by Evett, Faselino flits from audience to stage and back again at break neck speed.

No less amusing is Lawrence as Cressida's tenderhearted uncle Pandarus. Decked out in bright yellow and peacock green, Lawrence looks a little like a wayward hairdresser from Soho. Twittering about to arrange a meeting between his niece and her enamorata. Pandarus is the quintessmal old fuss budget. While Ulysses gets the most elegant lines in the piece Pandarus gets enough good comic material to read for the role of a Green Johnny Carson. Blunt to the point of abrasiveness. Pandarus urges the lovers to abandon useless talk and move into more substantial endeavors once they have made each other's acquaintance.

These three magnificent performances plus Evett's masterful handling of the ensemble cast more than compensate for any potential minuses in the production such as its length (three hours with a ten minute intermission), and the unsatisfactory nature of the love story. Shamefully underattended last Thursday night, Troilus and Cressida merits three full houses this coming weekend.