A sound not often heard during a Shakespeare play is shrieking — from the audience anyway.
asserted
sound → hear → audience
But I heard several loud yells at a recent performance at the Stratford Festival in Ontario, Canada, an idyllic theater haven especially frequented by upstate New Yorkers, Michiganders and Chicagoans.
asserted
I → hear → Yorkers
The noise came from a little boy in the front row of “Othello” in the close-quarters Tom Patterson Theatre.
asserted
noise → come → Theatre
In the first half, the young man was audibly terrified by the violent tussle between Roderigo (Rylan Wilkie) and Cassio (Jordin Hall).
asserted
man → terrify → Roderigo
“AHHHH!,” he howled as he clutched his mom for dear life.
asserted
he → howl → life
Later, at intermission, an amused man in the bathroom line cracked to me, referencing what was yet to come between jealous Othello (André Sills) and innocent wife Desdemona (Krystin Pellerin), “If he thought that was bad, just wait for the second half!”
asserted
that → crack → half
Stratford, North America’s largest repertory theater and one of the last few remaining, is brilliant at eliciting such big responses — from ages eight to 98.
asserted
Stratford → remain → 98
Classic tragedies tend to be more upsetting than usual, and comedies far funnier.
asserted
comedies → tend → ?
At the fest’s best, there is an earthiness to the acting that gets performers and audiences blessedly out of their heads.
asserted
that → be → heads
Concept, more often than not (see: biker gang “Macbeth”), doesn’t snuff out rich, vibrant characters.
asserted
Concept → see → characters
In that respect, director Haysam Kadri’s “Othello” couldn’t have been further apart from the sleep-aid, wallet-robbing Broadway revival a couple seasons back starring Denzel Washington and Jake Gyllenhaal, which had the stiff posture of a long history play.
asserted
which → rob → play
The only screams there were caused by the $900 ticket price.
asserted
screams → cause → price
This vastly superior production begins at a stratospheric level of intensity and never relents, with a ritualistic set of ancient-looking stone arches that could host a gladiatorial fight to the death.
uncertain
that → begin → death
Sills has a real right-off-the-battlefield vigor as boiling-mad Othello, and Evan Buliung is the best sort of evil Iago.
asserted
Buliung → have → Iago
He’s got a come-hither energy, and seems like a perfectly decent fellow… right until “I hate the Moor” spurts out like bubbling green acid.
asserted
I → get → acid
And as his conspiratorial wife Emilia (and as Helena in the fun-enough “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”), Jessica B. Hill delivers some of the most striking and memorable acting of the entire season.
asserted
Hill → deliver → season
Fizzier, and with squeals instead of shouts, is an Easter-egg-colored “The Importance of Being Earnest” over at the proscenium Avon Theatre, the very same space that delivered Broadway’s last revival of Oscar Wilde’s play starring Brian Bedford back in 2011.
asserted
that → color → 2011
There was a gravitas to that superb production that this separately lovable one, directed by Krista Jackson, unceremoniously rejects.
asserted
one → be → Jackson
I say that because posh schemers Jack (Joe Perry) and Algernon (Carter Gulseth) read especially youthful and feisty here — not quite 2026, but not specifically Victorian either.
asserted
I → say → Jack
Their lively chutzpah (especially that of the terrific Gulseth, who reminded me of a more buttoned-up John Early) butts heads perfectly with Fiona Reid’s side-eyeing Lady Bracknell — a role that’s rather too frequently played by men now.
asserted
that → remind → men
The eviscerating actress has a martini-tinted, half-hoarse voice as the vicious wealthy aunt that, without resorting to camp, gives off a hilarious chill of “I hope to never serve this woman brunch on the Upper East Side.”
asserted
I → eviscerate → Side
In the same theater is a young-audience production of “The Hobbit” that is only suitable for the youngest of kids (let’s say, the shrieking sort) and locked-away grownups who have somehow never heard of J.R.R. Tolkien and “The Lord of the Rings.”
asserted
who → say → Rings
While the “Leave It To Beaver”-quaint stage play has existed for a long time, these days Middle Earth is not a place to venture unless you have $20 million or so to throw at it.
asserted
you → leave → it
Back in the Festival Theatre, however, no expense has been spared in the final Shakespearean production at Stratford of artistic director Antoni Cimolino.
asserted
expense → spar → Cimolino
It is appropriately “The Tempest” — a dramedy written toward the end of the writer’s life that is very much about accepting the past while facing an uncertain future.
asserted
that → write → future
Can’t imagine why a departing leader would pick that one!
asserted
leader → imagine → one
During his successful 14 years in the top job, Cimolino gained a reputation for magicking plays that audiences admired into ones they cherish — particularly tricky romances like last season’s “The Winter’s Tale” and “Cymbeline.”
asserted
they → gain → Tale
They rank with some of my favorite Shakespeares I’ve seen anywhere.
asserted
I → rank → Shakespeares
Island-set “The Tempest” is more famous than those two — who doesn’t love a beach? — but is no less complicated.
asserted
who → love → beach
Stratford’s features one of the most massive sets the Festival Theatre’s hosted in ages, with a gigantic central rock that rotates to reveal nooks and crannies, and a washed-ashore piano downstage that rings of Salvador Dali.
asserted
that → feature → Dali
Ariel the sprite (who’s a bit much here) crawls out of it.
asserted
who → ’ → it
There’s a dance of Godzilla-size jellyfish and a freaky sequence that flirts with horror, another useful tool in Cimolino’s box.
asserted
that → ’ → box
While this staging can fall a little too eagerly into the play’s natural episodic natures — partly because of that spinning stone that practically announces, “And now, another scene” — there is a warmth here too, of sun and of heart.
asserted
that → fall → heart
The role of Prospero is usually played by Geraint Wyn Davies, a muti-faceted Stratford regular who’s able to be both regal and jovial.
asserted
who → play → Davies
A Falstaff or a Claudius, depending on what side of the bed he woke up on.
asserted
he → depend → bed
That appealing mix makes him a smart fit for a staging that wisely wants to shrug off some of the sorcerer’s grandeur that’s calloused over the centuries.
asserted
that → make → centuries
But just as well-suited, if differently so, is Davies’ understudy I saw — Ben Carlson, a tremendous actor I’ve admired since I first saw his Hamlet in Chicago, ugh, 20 years ago.
asserted
I → suit → Chicago
Carlson brings a natural wit and fighting spirit to all his roles — be it Danish prince or Benedick.
asserted
it → bring → roles
Here, though, he finds a dad wrestling with regular dad problems while dealing with his growing daughter Miranda.
asserted
he → find → daughter
OK, only so regular as a powerful magician who has enslaved the monster son of a sea witch can be, but certainly more relatable than usual.
asserted
who → enslave → witch
…and 22 more, not listed.
The Aporia
