Written a few years before his death, "Cymbeline" at times feels as if William Shakespeare were going through some of his favorites, tossing them in a blender and hitting "frappe." (Yes, there were no blenders in Elizabethan England. Work with me. Or substitute "mortar and pestle," if it makes you feel better.)
You’ve got your scheming, power mad queen, a la Lady Macbeth. You’ve got your siblings separated in infancy and miraculously reunited, a la "The Comedy of Errors." There’s even a villain bent on sowing suspicion about a wife’s fidelity, named Iag — er, Iachimo.
That pastiche approach means that this play often feels hit-or-miss for me. Fortunately, director Robert Kauzlaric’s staging for Strawdog Theatre Company, despite some hiccups, ultimately finds a sure footing through the derivative thickets to deliver a mostly charming and sometimes quite-affecting evening. Toss in a couple of brilliantly comic turns and some stellar fight scenes (the latter created by Matt Hawkins), and it makes the case for those who have never seen the play — or at least not in a small-scale setting like the tiny Factory Theater stage — to head to Howard Street to check it out.
Even summarizing the plot gets exhausting, but here’s a precis: the title king (played by Brandon Saunders with imperious Lear-like rage and vulnerability) rules during Roman times in England. His two sons were spirited away as babies by a disgruntled courtier, and their sister, Imogen, (Daniella Pereira), marries a commoner, Posthumus (Sam Hubbard), despite her father’s banning him. Her stepmother queen (Sarah Goeden), who is slowly poisoning her monarch spouse, also wants to arrange a match between Imogen and her own son, Cloten (Gage Wallace), a bumbling quick-tempered narcissist (whose orange-toned attire — designed by Brittany Bodley — may or may not recall someone a bit closer to our own times).
During his banishment, Posthumus boasts of his wife’s sterling character to Iachimo (Jose Nateras), who sneaks into Imogen’s bedroom in a hamper — perhaps on loan from Falstaff in "The Merry Wives of Windsor." He obtains specious "proof" in the form of a bracelet that he’s enjoyed Imogen’s favors, sending Posthumus into a fury and causing him to send a letter demanding that his servant who was left behind in Cymbeline’s house, Pisanio, dispatch her. (Understudy Jillian Patterson filled in for Strawdog regular Michaela Petro at the performance I attended.)
When Imogen flees (disguised as a boy because that’s the law in Shakespeare), she finds hospitality in a cave with an elderly woodsman and his two hale-and-hearty sons, who love her on sight as if they were related. Spoiler alert: they are!
So it’s pretty ridiculous stuff, truth be told — even more so than the convenient pirates of "Pericles."
And yet, within the mix we have one of the loveliest and most mournful songs in Shakespeare, "Fear No More," which reminds us that "Golden lads and girls all must, as chimney sweepers come to dust." Andrew Hansen’s arrangement, beautifully performed by Terry Bell and Dan Cobbler as the long-lost sons of Cymbeline, pierces the heart. Which is no mean feat, considering that the song is sung over not just the presumed corpse of Imogen (still in male mufti), but the headless corpse of Cloten. (See, what happens is that Cloten … oh, never mind.)
Wallace, who essentially steals every scene he is in, plays the vengeful manchild-who-would-be-king to the comic hilt, even as his character’s swordplay reveals more hubris than skill. He delivers his lines with the barking faux-profound cadences of someone who isn’t comfortable with language, but expects every word from his mouth, no matter how ridiculous, to be heeded nonetheless. Pereira’s Imogen, particularly in her dismissal of Nateras’ Iachimo in his first attempts to woo her, reveal a strong and honest woman who, as has been observed so often of so many Shakespearean heroines, deserves a man more trusting than Posthumus.
"Men’s vows are women’s curses," she cries upon finding out about her husband’s death decree.
Kauzlaric’s staging, particularly in the first half, doesn’t always find a way to thread the needle through the complications in the plot, despite the tidy use of Pisanio as a narrator at the top of the show. But the cunning use of a silver curtain and a few wooden packing crates to suggest everything from Cymbeline’s throne room to the sanctuary cave (Alan Donahue created the set and properties) gives us a smart effective visual metaphor for how quickly love transforms to jealousy, fortune to danger, friendship to enmity. By the end, we also see that justice, mercy and love can sometimes prevail, no matter how absurd the circumstances.
Kerry Reid is a freelance critic.
ctc-arts@chicagotribune.com
REVIEW: "Cymbeline" (3 stars)
When: Through Feb. 25
Where: Strawdog at the Factory Theater, 1623 W. Howard St.
Running time: 2 hours, 35 minutes
Tickets: $30 at 866-811-4111 or www.strawdog.org
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