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Annie Mitchell
Society Editor
Transvestism, binge-drinking, street-fighting, a practical joke taken to extremes, mistaken identity " it could be any night at the Red Dragon Inn, couldn't it' Not so, this time. It's all part of the complex plot of Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night' currently being performed by the Shanachie Theatre Company, now through May 22.
As Viola/Cesario, Zephyr Favonious is engaging and perky, delivering her lines with quick wit and timing. As her twin, Sebastian, Jonathan Granger, who makes his triumphant return to the Shanachie's stage after being shot at point-blank range two months ago, puts a masculine spin on his character that makes the misidentification believable. Luke Shaunessy plays Orsino as a likeable lover and male chauvinist who is wrong about love from the start and learns from Viola how to listen to his heart. As Olivia, Lelah Rivka handles the transition from grieving sister to anxious wooer with skill. Ted Pevey as her steward, Malvolio, makes the change from puritan prude to ridiculously yellow-gartered suitor with wonderful accuracy.
Catherine Windsor is lively and attractive as the maid Maria who plots Malvolio's downfall, and Maximillion de Chagny turns Sir Toby Belch into a conniving but comical drunkard. As the foppish Sir Andrew Aguecheek, Armand Pershing is a perfect Sir Echo, Toby's dupe and mimic. Christian Feld as Fabian contributes his share to the unmasking of Malvolio. The key role of Feste the Fool is played by Eureus Vulturnus with fluid expressions and gestures that are fascinating to hear and watch as song and dance are imaginatively integrated in each scene. Tyrone Gaulke's Antonio adds a note of earnest confusion to the topsy-turvy world of Illyria.
What struck me from the very beginning is how much these inhabitants of Illyria are enjoying themselves as they contemplate their own complicated interiors. Most of these folks are " let's face it " flaming solipsists whose favorite recreation is figuring themselves out. And the cast members execute introspection with such enthusiastically mapped logic that one is swept up in the reasoning that brings them to their "eureka" moments, which are, of course, often totally wrong.
It's hard to resist the pleasure these characters take in arriving at their perceptions, whether clear or cloudy. That includes poor old Malvolio, the insufferably priggish steward to Olivia, who has vainglorious dreams of marrying the lady he serves. The scene in which he deciphers a cryptic note that makes him believe that Olivia loves him is rendered as a hilariously hard-working exercise in bending facts to fiction. When Pevey enlists the audience's help in the matter of stretching an "m' into Malvolio's name, it's a metaphor for the dynamic between actors and audience that shapes the entire production.
Orsino delivers the opening monologue (about music being "the food of love") not with the usual posturing languor but with the happy animation of a boy detective sniffing out clues. Viola, who poses as Orsino's page and quickly falls for him, pursues her own line of self-investigation, but more fruitfully. I've seldom seen a "Twelfth Night' that so clearly emphasizes how much Viola learns about herself and her sex by dressing as a boy and having a woman, the haughty Countess Olivia, fall in love with her. Olivia obviously experiences a similar adrenaline rush from realizing that she's capable of love and its physical hunger pangs. One remembers that, for all her gravity in the opening scenes, Olivia is still essentially a girl, who enjoys a chummy, giggling relationship with Maria, her crafty lady-in-waiting.
"Most wonderful!" The exclamation of joyous surprise that bursts from the lips of Countess Olivia at the climax of "Twelfth Night," seems an apt reaction to this brilliant reproduction of one of Shakespeare's best-loved plays.
Transvestism, binge-drinking, street-fighting, a practical joke taken to extremes, mistaken identity " it could be any night at the Red Dragon Inn, couldn't it' Not so, this time. It's all part of the complex plot of Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night' currently being performed by the Shanachie Theatre Company, now through May 22.
As Viola/Cesario, Zephyr Favonious is engaging and perky, delivering her lines with quick wit and timing. As her twin, Sebastian, Jonathan Granger, who makes his triumphant return to the Shanachie's stage after being shot at point-blank range two months ago, puts a masculine spin on his character that makes the misidentification believable. Luke Shaunessy plays Orsino as a likeable lover and male chauvinist who is wrong about love from the start and learns from Viola how to listen to his heart. As Olivia, Lelah Rivka handles the transition from grieving sister to anxious wooer with skill. Ted Pevey as her steward, Malvolio, makes the change from puritan prude to ridiculously yellow-gartered suitor with wonderful accuracy.
Catherine Windsor is lively and attractive as the maid Maria who plots Malvolio's downfall, and Maximillion de Chagny turns Sir Toby Belch into a conniving but comical drunkard. As the foppish Sir Andrew Aguecheek, Armand Pershing is a perfect Sir Echo, Toby's dupe and mimic. Christian Feld as Fabian contributes his share to the unmasking of Malvolio. The key role of Feste the Fool is played by Eureus Vulturnus with fluid expressions and gestures that are fascinating to hear and watch as song and dance are imaginatively integrated in each scene. Tyrone Gaulke's Antonio adds a note of earnest confusion to the topsy-turvy world of Illyria.
What struck me from the very beginning is how much these inhabitants of Illyria are enjoying themselves as they contemplate their own complicated interiors. Most of these folks are " let's face it " flaming solipsists whose favorite recreation is figuring themselves out. And the cast members execute introspection with such enthusiastically mapped logic that one is swept up in the reasoning that brings them to their "eureka" moments, which are, of course, often totally wrong.
It's hard to resist the pleasure these characters take in arriving at their perceptions, whether clear or cloudy. That includes poor old Malvolio, the insufferably priggish steward to Olivia, who has vainglorious dreams of marrying the lady he serves. The scene in which he deciphers a cryptic note that makes him believe that Olivia loves him is rendered as a hilariously hard-working exercise in bending facts to fiction. When Pevey enlists the audience's help in the matter of stretching an "m' into Malvolio's name, it's a metaphor for the dynamic between actors and audience that shapes the entire production.
Orsino delivers the opening monologue (about music being "the food of love") not with the usual posturing languor but with the happy animation of a boy detective sniffing out clues. Viola, who poses as Orsino's page and quickly falls for him, pursues her own line of self-investigation, but more fruitfully. I've seldom seen a "Twelfth Night' that so clearly emphasizes how much Viola learns about herself and her sex by dressing as a boy and having a woman, the haughty Countess Olivia, fall in love with her. Olivia obviously experiences a similar adrenaline rush from realizing that she's capable of love and its physical hunger pangs. One remembers that, for all her gravity in the opening scenes, Olivia is still essentially a girl, who enjoys a chummy, giggling relationship with Maria, her crafty lady-in-waiting.
"Most wonderful!" The exclamation of joyous surprise that bursts from the lips of Countess Olivia at the climax of "Twelfth Night," seems an apt reaction to this brilliant reproduction of one of Shakespeare's best-loved plays.