Shakespeare with a Vengeance; or,
If we sickos have offended...
Reviewed
5/2/04
by William Shakespeare and John Fletcher
Directed by Jared Sakren
Southwest Shakespeare Company
The Tempe Performing Arts Center
(480) 990-4404
April 29th - May 8th, 2004
$10.00 - $20.00
To hear Southwest Shakespeare's Jared Sakren tell about it, the authorship of the 1613 script Cardenio is commonly attributed to Middleton, but a dispute arises since the original manuscript had it's title page with author's name(s) torn off. Four hundred years of detective work has lead to the theory that the retired Shakespeare took the work of his replacement at Blackfriar's Theatre, the young John Webster, and infused his poetry into Webster's dark plotting and themes. The Bard of Avon came from the time of the Virgin Queen, the golden age of Elizabethan drama. Queen Elizabeth's death lead to the ascension of King James. Jacobean theatre was quite a departure from its predecessor: dark revenge tragedies with perverse subplots, unfaithful women, despotic tyrants, and the quest for the "true" person. The rich intertwined plots of Elizabethan drama gave way to graphic Jacobean portrayals of incest, infidelity, treachery, and even necrophilia. So theorize scholars and Sakren, the superstar of Elizabethan theatre was brought out of retirement to tutor someone who would become one of the superstars of the Jacobean stage. Cardenio smacks of the Jacobean, with a usurping king lusting after the former queen, tests of fidelity in wives, and plots of mortal enemies. The problem with Jacobean drama is this: we as a culture have connected that style of theatre to it's recent equivalent, melodrama. There's a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth, and Murphy's Law rules. By the time of the big and quite glorious swordfight near the finale of the play, the characters have flattened out so broadly, it's hard to care who will get touchéd.
There's Mike Sherwin as the despotic, usurping Fernando. He does good work portraying a role that starts at the level of Dick Dastardly in Spanish Inquisition garb and descends into J.R. Ewing in a snuff film. Balancing him is Cale Epps as Cardenio, the king he deposed. Epps spends a sizable amount of time screaming at the top of his lungs and widening his eyes angrily, but that's what Cardenio must do, so he and Sakren have done their best not to make it too silent film-like. Between these men is faithful and true Luscinda (a prim and regal Quetta Carpenter) who fleshes out the best she can her much too virtuous role. Bruce Laks is Cardenio's brother Anselmos, who stupidly asks his friend Votario (a delightfully devious Christian Miller) to check and see if his wife Camilla (a titillating strumpet in the hands of Jennifer Bemis) is true to him. Laks is an oaf, and a silly one at that, but an earnest one, too, which keeps us from losing complete credibility in the character. Countering this trio is Camilla's waiting woman Leonella (Andrea Morales) and her boy-toy Bellario (Paul Silver), each painting their broad characters with broader strokes as they plot the downfall of the trio.
Sakren has set the play in its traditional time, and the blocking is as serious as its intended subject. David Barker's swordplay is outstanding. Jeff Thomson's set is a dark and brooding affair that aids in creating both indoor and outdoor settings with Dori Brown's transitional lighting. Lois K. Myers' costumes are strongly period, while the creepily tinkling harpsichord music in David Temby's sound design adds to the atmosphere.
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