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Someone must be focus-grouping hands these days…
Either way, Fiasco Theater’s “Cymbeline” is a wonderful off-Broadway jaunt. The antique scholars quoted in the program angrily remark on the “absurdity,” “confusion,” and “impossibility” of the play, one of Shakespeare’s late Romances, but Fiasco makes theatrical virtues out of these perceived downfalls. See it if only for the magical “bedroom scene,” one of the most beautiful and gripping scenes ever committed to the stage.
We’ve all seen what I like to call Sad Summer Shakespeares, limp little salads of productions wilted by their naïve enthusiasm and self-important claims of universalism. Mix your fork around in one of these creations too intently, sniff a little too hard, and the dramaturgy, acting, and storytelling reveal themselves as pallid cauliflower, rubbery carrots, and decaying lettuce. Waiter, thanks but no thanks!
The scene of the Sad Summer Shakespeare crime is usually a public park, a civics center, or a geriatric watering hole. “Accessible Shakespeare!” or “Shakespeare for everyone!” is the rallying call of their half-baked director-chefs. Throw together one of those old Bardic standards for The People, they seem to believe, and you’re golden.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with this idea – on paper it sounds pretty ideal. (Sometimes it is: the Public’s free Shakespeare in the Park is often a heart-quickening confluence of space, audience, and thought—a Wolfgang Puck of a summer salad, as it were.)
