News

Garber Announces Advisory Committee for Harvard Law School Dean Search

News

First Harvard Prize Book in Kosovo Established by Harvard Alumni

News

Ryan Murdock ’25 Remembered as Dedicated Advocate and Caring Friend

News

Harvard Faculty Appeal Temporary Suspensions From Widener Library

News

Man Who Managed Clients for High-End Cambridge Brothel Network Pleads Guilty

Comedy of Errors: Twelfth Night

By Matthew Hudson, Contributing Writer

One of the oft-cited wonders of Shakespeare's plays is their remarkable ability to transcend time and location, granting directors the privilege of transposing medieval Denmark to modern New York or ancient Athens to the foothills of 19th-century Italy. The privilege, however, can be abused. When the decision was made to stage Twelfth Night in the California redwoods during the Beat Generation of the 1950's, there may have been a good reason to do so. It appears, however, that that reason parted from the production sometime between the formation of the concept and opening night. Thus was the audience left to face a set comprised of three movable stumps and a Lego-like bridge structure, dramatic staging which seems to overlook fundamental plot and character issues and a group of actors who struggle to preserve the meaning of the text in an Illyria gone horribly wrong.

Directed by Josh Edelman '01, Twelfth Night offers character misreading so severe that they must be intentional; while an interesting concept, it is unfortunate that Shakespeare's play offers virtually no support for the interpretations presented on stage. The most blatant example arises in the portrayal of Malvolio, Lady Olivia's Puritanical steward, by Paul Monteleoni '01. Though it is unclear at what point we may draw the line separating directoral control and actor-based development, it seems that someone involved in the character's evolution should have reread the text. Resembling nothing so much as a demented Muppet, Monteleoni plays for the empty slapstick of a man in tails running about the stage. This leaves him with nowhere to take the character as more interesting sub-plots arise, most notably as he discovers what he believes to be Olivia's love letter. Any possibility for character development, or even comedy, is lost. No contrast of reserved decorum is ever established and so Malvolio's antics are ultimately meaningless; his strip tease at the beginning of Act Two is the most painful misreading since, well, Act One. In the closing moments of the play, Edelman offers us a brief hope of salvaging Malvolio as an interesting and important character, only to snatch it away from us as the broken steward gleefully joins Feste (Joe Nuccio '01) in a jazzed up rendition of "The Rain It Raineth Every Day."

The flagging production was clearly held together by three performances: Olivia (Tegan Shohet '01), Orsino (Tim Jezek '01) and, of course, Viola (Lisa Faiman '03). Even of these, only Faiman was completely at ease within the alternate world of Illyria. Shohet makes us believe that she could be a wonderful Olivia-in a different production-and Jezek, though truly engaging in his scenes with Faiman, ran a little to the whiny side of the Dukedom. Uche Amaechi, playing Olivia's kinsman, Sir Toby, possesses an amazing voice and stage presence, yet seemed wrong for the role of the scheming drunkard. Little can be done with Sir Andrew (Christian Roulleau '01), but Roulleau managed to turn in one of the most traditionally sound performances of the evening.

For all of the problems with this production, it seems remarkably self-aware of what it has done to Shakespeare's text. Much of the show has the feel of an inside-joke; we, as the audience, vaguely sense that something is going on beneath the surface, yet we are never allowed to fully engage in the comedy. From the program note, "No stage directions were harmed in the making of this production," to Feste's inserted welcoming monologue to the audience, we are forced to question the choices presented on stage. The entire show falls under the shadow of Feste's song, injected into the beginning of Act One. He smugly asks the audience, "Who's Got the Last Laugh Now?" Two hours and five acts later, that question remains unanswered.

TWELFTH NIGHT

written by

William Shakespeare

directed by

Josh Edelman '01

May 4-6

Agassiz Theater

Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.

Tags