 "Photo: Courtesy of Donna Northcott")
St. Louis Shakespeare isn’t afraid of the bard. I’ve seen so many chaste productions of “Romeo and Juliet” in which lovers barely touch, bawdy jokes are elided over harmlessly and boys wrestling in the street is nothing more than good, boisterous fun. These productions are maddening, and maddeningly boring.
During his time, Shakespeare was not only not high art, but also one of the most lurid—and thus the most popular—things onstage. Director Jef Awada doesn’t hide this from his audience in his production of “Romeo and Juliet”; in fact, he’s not shy of emphasizing some of the raunchier moments, complete with unspeakable hand gestures and raised eyebrows.
Some of the production’s best, most engrossing moments are thanks to Benvolio and Mercutio. Aaron Dodd and Mark Kelley have a real feel not just for the language’s meaning, but for the type of male camaraderie the play calls for. They loll over each other, one-upping each dirty joke with another even filthier, until at last not even they can believe their own words.
Unfortunately for this production and all those of “Romeo and Juliet” Act 3 must always come. Mercutio is killed, Benvolio disappears, and we’re left in the cold, gray world of tragedy. Without these two actors, the production loses (forgive the pun) some of its life.
Curran Bajwa, the play’s Romeo, cuts a lovely figure, with tousled black hair and dainty features, but he lacks the excitability and madness that must belong to Shakespeare’s 15-year-old lover. Where he falls short of rushed and uncontrollable joie, however, Juliet more than compensates. Elizabeth Birkenmeier spends the first three acts of the play running madly from spot to spot. She finds the right balance between the childish petulance of a 13-year-old and the worldly weariness of a woman in star-crossed love, and her Juliet both joys and moves to tears.
The rest of the cast had trouble keeping up with her whirlwind. Capulet (Stefan Ruprecht) never quite musters up enough momentum for his big moments and can’t seem to keep his hands away from his face. The Prince (Ethan Jones) can’t capture Shakespeare’s rhythm, and his words of dark foreboding and murderous sanction sound a little like a children’s sing-song nursery rhyme.
Ladies Capulet and Montague flit by, as always, but Juliet’s nurse, played by Suzanne Greenwald, displays a tour de force of rambling, bawdy non sequiturs. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted her to shut up so the plot could continue or shout louder so it never would.
Director Awada sets the play in the 18th century, citing “the really cool costumes in Gangs of New York” as his inspiration. The costumes are lovely and unobtrusive, though designer JC Krajicek can’t seem to find the balance between under-slip and form-engulfing ruffles for Birkenmeier.
Awada’s staging more than allows for the first two acts, facilitating the inherent comedy. The tragedy again finds itself out in the cold, excepting a set of brilliant bookend moments, where the actors assemble for prologue and epilogue in the same tragic composition, the lovers splayed across the stage, their grieving families and friends circled around them. This emphasizes the inescapable fate of the play while giving us a glimpse into the future. It’s just a pity we can’t sit perpetually in the first two acts.
Johnson Hall at Third Baptist Church, Grand & Washington across from the Fox Theatre.
Tickets available through Metrotix ((314) 534-1111 or www.metrotix.com). Tickets may also be purchased at the Johnson Hall box office beginning one hour before each performance.
Nov. 14 - 23, 2008
Directed by Jef Awada
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