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TIME: Almanac 1995
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1995-02-26
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<text id=94TT1742>
<title>
Dec. 12, 1994: Theater:Something to Sing About
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1994
Dec. 12, 1994 To the Dogs
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
THE ARTS & MEDIA/THEATER, Page 84
Something to Sing About
</hdr>
<body>
<p> A very traditional British cast finds rapture in As You Like
It
</p>
<p>By Richard Corliss
</p>
<p> So often these days, theater is a laborious imitation of things
that are easily done better elsewhere. Directors try for the
intimacy of a movie close-up or the narrative voice of fiction
or the pachydermal pizzazz of theme-park extravaganzas, and
you think, Why did they bother? But when theater works on its
own primal terms--with a bare stage, a few actors in simple
dress and a brilliant conception that breathes life into an
old property--it's the freshest, liveliest art around.
</p>
<p> The production of Shakespeare's As You Like It by the British
Cheek by Jowl troupe, which returns this week to the Brooklyn
Academy of Music after a triumphant visit in October, is one
such theatrical epiphany. It does more than revive the play;
it revives one's faith in the theater as a place to weave magic.
</p>
<p> Director Declan Donnellan has a gimmick: all the characters
are played by men, as in Shakespeare's day. Designer Nick Ormerod
has built a pristine set--white walls, with green streamers
for the Forest of Arden. In themselves, these elements are neither
radical nor necessarily helpful; every English public school
has a tradition of same-sex actors, and every penny-pinching
little theater company leaves the scenery and props to the audience's
imagination. But here the ideas seem like masterstrokes. They
strip away the academic barnacles that too often make an evening
of Shakespeare feel like a final exam in Esperanto, and they
allow the playgoer to focus on the emotional gaiety and bewilderment
at the heart of the text. What could have been minimalist camp--oh, Lord, men in pearls and blond wigs!--becomes a sweet
meditation on mistaken sexual appetites and identity.
</p>
<p> The main roles are imbued with gravity and grace. Adrian Lester,
a willowy black Rosalind, has the gift of breathless apprehension,
ever ready to burst into tears at the folly and wonder of men.
Scott Handy is Orlando, properly perplexed at the vision of
a man (Lester) playing a woman (Rosalind), who for the sake
of a jest is playing a man. Simon Coates is deliciously censorious
as Rosalind's companion, Celia, a young lady well bred in exasperation;
some day she may grow up to be Oscar Wilde's Lady Bracknell.
</p>
<p> The attendant shepherds and fops have a whirly, burly charm,
and the bucolic maids (notably William Cates' Phebe) suggest
Benny Hill on his very best night. But even these performances
are never mired in the wink-wink-nudge-nudge of condescension
to either Shakespeare or the audience. As Donnellan and Ormerod
proved in their version of Angels in America at the National
Theatre, no play is so weighted down by metaphor or message
that it cannot be made to sing and soar.
</p>
<p> Especially sing. The second half of As You Like It is buoyed
by Paddy Cunneen's lovely settings for Shakespeare's rollicking
rhymes. Well, if men can be women, why can't words become songs?
Suddenly, all the world's a musical stage. And this glorious
production makes the stage like nothing else in the world.
</p></body>
</article>
</text>