Romeo and Juliet: too much fun

Is that Sister Lawrence in the back? Megs Chenosky and Jameson Parker with Barbara Kozicki doing some fire dance behind them. Photo Tim Matheson

In a published conversation included in the program for Theatre at UBC’s production of Romeo and Juliet, director Catriona Leger uses the word “fun” four times.

The word jumped out at me as I read the notes during intermission to try and figure out what I’d just watched during the first half of the play.
For me, “fun” is not a word I would attribute to Romeo and Juliet. Obsession, love, loyalty and violence all shot through the lens of what we now call teenagers, sure, but not fun. In short, because teenagers, fairly or unfairly, are not really known for being fun. They’re serious, they’re exploring the world often with a sense of assuredness where truth lies, they will fight for these ideas and emotionally live in the reality of the moment and they’re constantly horny. The last one might sound like fun but many teenagers lack the resources and skills to satisfy that craving properly so that’s not much fun either.

Leger – a student in the MFA program at UBC – chose Romeo and Juliet because it had a “strong story” and is “open to reinvention, twisted interpretations, something that could invite the imagination to expand beyond the bounds of the dark, black theatre”. This is all fine but Leger is so focused on fun (in this case, creating a carnival-like, Bouffon-inspired setting) that she misses telling the strong story that is supposed to be supporting her inventiveness. Throughout the evening – and particularly in the first half – we have actors who are deliberating acting against the lines and several key plot points are missed or not given the weight they deserve. Perhaps the most glaring sequence is when the young lovers first spy each other and then withdraw for a quiet chat. There is so much emphasis on fun, including actors dancing with veils and twirling fire that we don’t actually see Romeo and Juliet seeing one another. We don’t revel in the pleasure of this moment of desire and discovery (which is a shame, as it’s a sensation I wouldn’t have minded taking out of the dark, black theatre).

Along with Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet is one of Shakespeare’s most succinct and driven texts.  It needs to be shot through with youthful verve, not weighed down by long periods of business to keep the punters engaged. Things drag for long stretches and speeches were extended beyond their natural life for reasons that were not always immediately obvious.  This is a shame because Leger has assembled a talented cast of actors who when set free and simply allowed to act provide some powerful moments. For example, Jameson Parker is outstanding in the scene where he learns he’s been banished. The truth of the moment is painfully raw, I felt like I was watching a young man cry about the injustices he’s suffering with no ability to remove himself from the moment. Meghan Chenosky has some equally effecting moments, particularly as she prepares for her feigned death. The performance of the two actors in the final death duet is stark and compelling and Leger provides a suitable frame for moments which are truly transcendent. Why she felt she needed to undermine this beautiful moment by having the ensemble pop up and shout “ha” is baffling.

Perhaps the most worrying misfire is Ben Whipple’s Mercutio. Mercutio is one of the most vibrant of Shakespeare’s creations but under Leger’s guidance, Whipple gives us a strange cross between Karmer from Seinfeld and Heath Ledger’s Joker. While engaging and fun to watch, Whipple’s creation has nothing to do with the character in the text. In the fight that ends his life, Whipple is so busy bouncing about and acting like a clown that the emotional drive behind the scene – fighting because his friend won’t, fighting because he loves his friend – and the real danger he faces is completely lost. Instead, he’s a gesturing clown who is simply taunting Tybalt for no clear reason or purpose. On what I saw, I’m sure Whipple could have given us a Mercutio that matches the challenges the character embodies, it’s just a shame he wasn’t guided towards that objective.

On the other hand, one of Leger’s reinventions is laudable. She switches the sexes and roles for a number of characters, thereby dramatically increasing the number of weighty roles for the women in the cast. MariaLuisa Alvarez is a force of nature as Lady Capulet and for most of the play – the bosomy, power Mum versus the weak-kneed shrimp of a father – is a revelation and exciting. The only place it undermines the play is in the exploration of the wider theme of macho culture which gives the play so much of its juice and which, I think, can be seen to be at the core of the community’s division.  Aligned to this point, Leger changes Father Lawrence into Sister Lawrence (Barbara Kozicki) and removes the majority of the Christian references (except for confession), replacing them with Pagan imagery. I think this isn’t a successful choice as it strips the play of an important undercurrent: the weight, secrecy and ultimately ineffectiveness of the Church. While I like the idea a female Lawrence, it does seem unlikely that a woman would come up with such a loopy plan to save our star-crossed lovers. It seems like something a male priest would specialize in.

Where Leger maintains the status quo is with the casting of men as Mercutio and Benvolio. As she explains in the program this is “so as to highlight their brotherly bond and to quell any implication that one or the other (if played by a woman) could be competing with Juliet for Romeo’s affection”. Male or female, I always think of Mercutio as in direct competition with Juliet. I guess, on this score, my idea of Romeo is a bit more fun than Leger’s.

Romeo and Juliet is on at the Telus Studio and is presented by Theatre UBC. It runs until January 30th. For more information get yourself star-crossed here and check out the always excellent resources UBC provides online for its shows.

By Andrew Templeton