Twelfth Night

Despite this June being one of the rainiest ever, and every morning since the 5th cloudy, we somehow managed to slip in between rain showers last Friday to see Twelfth Night at the outdoor Delacorte Theater.  

I'm no drama expert, but may I just say that I really, really appreciate Shakespeare in the Park?  I think it is my favorite event in New York City, perhaps even more so than the NYC Marathon. You go camp out in line for tickets hours before the show. Sometimes you get in (we usually do), and sometimes you don't, but it's free if you do. Sometimes it rains during the middle of the play, and you have to go home and try the whole thing again another night. And once we got an understudy for Brutus, in Julius Caesar, who was painful to watch as he struggled to remember his lines.  But usually, despite a little suspense, we take a picnic, play card or board games in the line, get our tickets, and enjoy the show.

With any Delacorte Production, there are certain hallmarks you expect: Creative staging, unconventional costumes (this year's were English Regency, i.e., Jane Austen), well-known actors in at least one or two main roles, good music, and the bawdiness played up in the comedies. Thankfully, in this production, the bawdiness tended mostly to the male bathroom sort. It was blatant enough, but given the subject matter it could have been much worse. Now for the other matters.

We saw Twelfth Night last in 2002 with Julia Stiles as Viola.  She was flat, and the staging was contrived.  But this year's production, with Anne Hathaway in the lead role, was a winner.  I think it's my favorite of the Shakepeare comedy productions the Public has done.  (Even more so than last year's Midsummer Night's Dream, which had the funniest rendition of the Thisbee scene I've ever seen.)  Anne Hathaway was a skilled and sincere Viola, but she didn't steal the show.  She played the (literally) straight woman that the play needed in the role. The other main characters were competent, if not stand outs. Audra McDonald was occasionally too exaggeratedly feline as Olivia, but I did like her.  And Feste had a touch of pathos, like a jester in a Velasquez painting.  

The characters who stood out were Malvolio, Maria, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.  Malvolio's character wasn't a detestable hypocrite, but more like a pathetic Kelsey Grammer. Maria was a shrewd and savvy accomplice.  Sir Toby made his entrance, in silhouette, in an outsized Napoleon hat that echoed his considerable paunch.  He was played by Jay O. Sanders (last year's Bottom from A Midsummer Night's Dream). But it was Sir Andrew who had our group laughing helplessly. Hamish Linklater played him like a cross between the Mad Hatter and a character from This is Spinal Tap.  His hapless delivery suggested vast spaces between the synapses.  All the characters, but especially his, were made more effective by excellent stage directing. For instance, when all the rejected suitors make their exits, with their luggage, at the end of the play, Malvolio stomps off in a huff, but Sir Andrew offers his leather saddle gratefully to Sebastian. Two acts ago in a moment of cowardice, he had promised his horse to Cesario not to fight him. He's perhaps still a little confused about which person is Cesario, but a deal's a deal.

The music (Twelfth Night is the most musical of Shakespeare's plays) was played Irish-style, with a whole band of musicians who alternately paraded around the stage or sat off to one side. During the wedding at the end of this Shakespearean comedy, I wanted badly to dance, but alas, it wasn't appropriate to the venue.  If I could find a recording of it, however, I might just dance around my own living room.  

***

Update:  Here's the NY Times review.  They like it, too!