George Bernard Shaw is known for his sharp wit, his deep concerns with social foibles, and his insistence on the search for ultimate truths. Arms and the Man has these elements, but it is also his strongest attempt at farce in a parlor comedy setting. The result is not quite as polemic as other pieces of his such as Major Barbara or Saint Joan. In this social satire, he spears romanticism of war, romanticism of love, pretensions of the bourgeoisie, and the upward mobility of the serving class. It centers on Raina Petkoff (Jennifer Banda), the daughter of a Major (Sandy Elias) and his pretentious wife (Drea Pruseau) who are the richest family in Bulgaria, and how her world is forever altered with the entrance of Captain Bluntschli (Cale Epps), a mercenary Swiss fighting on the side of Serbia. Raina is in the throws of idealized love with Major Sergius (Jason Barth), a ham hock whose foolhardy cavalry charge won the war only because the enemy had the wrong carbines for their machine guns. But Sergius love for himself is only rivaled by his lust for Louka (Andi Watson), a serving girl with plans for respectability, despite her engagement to the Petkoff’s other servant, the wily Nikola (Michael Peach). Sometimes this play treads into territory better served by Oscar Wilde, but there are plenty of belly laughs and pointed barbs to keep the evening moving.
Shakespeare Sedona and its founding Artistic Director Jared Sakren are presenting this enjoyable evening in the middle of a faux European lane in the gorgeous Tlaquepaque Village, a wonderful location that adds to the setting. It is mounted on the same set created by Jeff Thomson for the Southwest Shakespeare production of Twelfth Night, with which this show runs in repertory. The unit is not the most ideal, though with the flourishes added in furniture and draperies, and owing to the fact that it must be broken down following every performance, this is a more than acceptable compromise. What it does offer Sakren is the chance to set up his trademark character juxtapositions; inspired stage pictures that enhance and visually explain the subtext of each scene. Sakren’s mastery of showing as well as telling turns this potentially dense text into an easily understood allegory. If there’s one thing that is lacking in Sakren’s toolbox for this show, it’s his allowing the actors to play at many disparate levels, overacting in some instances while tipping toward ultra-realism for others.
He has gathered his usual “Who’s Who” of talent for the
production. Banda and Epps sparkle as the central love interest. Banda’s
distinctive voice balances nicely Epps’ very modern and offhanded speaking
style. She poses and preens grandly while Epps slouches and slopes through
the world, wiser and more pragmatic than she. This is a situation where the
two rivaling styles work well. Larger and almost too operatic is Barth, who
is hilarious in his strutting but sometimes overwhelms those around him. He
is countered by Watson’s comedic in-your-face attitude, one that harkens
more to modernity. Where Banda and Epps’ contrast is revelatory, Barth
and Watson’s balance is a little too overwrought.
Elias is quite strong as the patriarch, striking a balance between pompous owner of the only house in Bulgaria with a library and contemporary doofus. Pruseau’s distinctive voice and presentation style works to a point in this production, but it is with many consecutive viewings of her performances that one sees her falling into very specific and consistent patterns that are inhibiting her from becoming as powerful a performer as she is capable of being. Peach is just that as the even-toned Nikola, a reflection of Blutschli’s pragmatism. He has the modulated voice of a Bulgarian Jeeves with the stiffness of a man willing to subvert himself for the now to get his reward in the end.
Besides the set, the other design elements are quite impressive. Lois K. Myers’ costumes are flashily period. Dori Brown’s lighting maximizes the limitations of the found space. David Temby’s sound allows for even amplification.
The opening night was a comedy of technical errors that never threw this professional cast. Despite non-igniting candles, costume failures, unintended blackouts, and a suicidal coffee pot bent on throwing itself from the raked table, the cast took it all in stride and found ways to make light of it. It’s a rare treat to see G.B. Shaw produced, and rarer still to see it done so strongly. Treat yourself to a day among the lovely vistas of Red Rock country topped off with a funny poke at some serious issues.