As You Really Want To Like It A Lot But Rarely See It Done So Well

You'll be reading a lot of raves today about Daniel Sullivan's Shakespeare In The Park production of As You Like It, and it deserves every one of them.  Read them and play The Lily Rabe Shot Game (you have to drink a shot of tequila every time a reviewer uses the word "coltish" to describe her Rosalind).  I saw it Tuesday night and I adored it.  It's warm and funny and sweet and heartbreaking and not only miles beyond the Bridge Project's version with Juliet Rylance a couple of years ago, it's light years beyond the misguided yet well-reviewed Rebecca Hall version of 2005.  I could rave about a lot of it too--the acting, the music, the way that Stephen Spinella's long hair and white-streaked gray beard make his Jaques look like Vincent Price vacationing from the set of one of those Roger Corman Poe movies in the 60's.  But I'd rather spend a moment on the real star of this production:  David Furr.

Furr plays Orlando.  I can honestly say, he is not just the best Orlando I've ever seen--it's like he's the FIRST Orlando I've ever seen.  The part is usually the wall against which Rosalind plays verbal handball, but not in this production.  Furr takes a part which has been a huge pothole in every other production of this play I've seen, and he turns it into a freeway.  He even makes Orlando's first scene work, which is pure exposition, and can be summed up by the words "Sit down a while, and let me fill your ears, with what you have already known for years."  How good is his Orlando?  It's right up there with Trevor Eve's performance of Torvald in the Juliet Stevenson Doll's House--which remains to this this day the only Torvald I've ever seen who breaks your heart.


Personally, I think the biggest reason why a lot of armchair critics and professional reviewers with Y chromosomes fall absolutely cock-a-hoop in love with the character of Rosalind is because every time they've read the play or even seen the play, Orlando is such a non-presence that Rosalind is effectively unattached--and therefore available for imaginary wooing.  You read their reviews and you can just hear them saying to themselves, "That Orlando isn't worthy of her, but by God I sure am."  (Check out the reviews of the Rebecca Hall Rosalind, and tell me all those male reviewers weren't just critically besotted.  Jeez.)

Because this Orlando actually IS worthy of this Rosalind?  There's no easy way to live out THAT fantasy while watching this production.  Which makes this another first--the first AYLI I've seen where Rosalind is definitely, irrationally, irrevocably, and unapologetically well-matched as one half of a couple--which makes this also one of the most joyful productions of anything that I've ever seen.

Get on line now, people.  Seriously.

Well no WONDER As You Like It was so depressing

From The Daily Mail on the Sam Mendes/Kate Winslet split:

A source close to Mendes explained the break-up by saying: 'He became bored working on his latest theatrical project, and he took that boredom home with him. And that led to the spark being taken out of their marriage.'

Welcome to the Green Gray World

There's actually more color in this picture than there is in the set.

If you were to ask me for a two-sentence review of The Bridge Project's As You Like It at BAM, then I would tell you to prepare to hear the words "There is no reason on earth for a fucking water-boarding scene to be within five miles of this comedy." Which brilliantly sets up the second sentence: "But of course, we are not watching a comedy, and Sam Mendes is not about to let us forget it."


So what are we watching? A production in which scene changes are done to sad violin music and the mournful notes in the script have become the entire symphony. A lot of acting that feels slight instead of light. And a play in which the city and the country are about as different as two cubicles in the same dreary office. This is supposed to be a comedy about contrasting worlds, and while there's a valid point in answering a cheery cry of "Let's run away to the forest!" with the harsh reality of "Fine, but how we will live there?" the only contrast here is between "stark and cold" and "slightly less stark and a tad bit warmer." And yes, the word "desert" is spoken as much in the first two acts of As You Like It as it is in all of Lawrence of Arabia, but that does not mean you bring camels into Arden. (I exaggerate; there are no camels in this production, mostly because camels are not colorless.)

Jacques in Oklahoma.

Which is not to say that you can't infuse a Shakespearean comedy with languid melancholy; the Watteau-inspired Much Ado with Derek Jacobi and Sinead Cusack did it brilliantly, mostly by showing how foreign Benedick and Beatrice were to the general mood around them. The only foreigner in this production is Stephen Dillane's chipper, low-key (and occasionally inaudible) Jacques; and the fact that I can, without any irony at all, use the word "chipper" to describe a character the script keeps calling "melancholy" pretty much nails how low the Glum Bar has been set in this production.


As for the Fun Bar, the evening has its moments, but they are just that: moments -- like flashes of sunlight in a forest, they illuminate but do not warm. Because the production feels heavy and weightless at the same time, there's a flatness to everything, which makes the jokes stick out like muffins on a baking pan. As for the acting, the supporting characters generally fare better than the leads. This is that rare production of As You Like It in which Celia is more lively than Rosalinde, Phoebe feels more intriguing than Jacques, and Silvius gets as many laughs as Touchstone.


This is also that rare production in which, instead of the usual question everyone asks about the play ("What in the name of God does Rosalinde see in Orlando anyway?") you find yourself saying "What does Orlando see in this girl again?" Juliet Rylance, looking for all the world like Geneva Carr crossed with Ellen Degeneres, spends so much time dashing back and forth onstage that it's a comment on the way she's playing Rosalinde: she never really inhabits the part, she just keeps approaching and retreating, approaching and retreating. And Christian Carmago's Orlando has pretty much one look, one tone of voice, and one manner throughout. Can't wait to see his Ariel. (Note to director: if you are crazy enough to have Orlando kiss Rosalinde while she's pretending to be a guy, then the characters have to actually deal with the moment for like, y'know, a moment, okay?) (Better yet: don't have them kiss in the first place.)

It occurs to me as I'm writing this that there's a hint of Beckett to this production, like Mendes decided to direct Waiting For Rosalinde. But that's probably just me. For instance: I can't see a guy in a bowler hat without thinking of either Beckett, Magritte, or Lena Olin in The Unbearable Lightness of Being. They get all mixed up in my mind. Just like a bunch of things seemed to have gotten mixed up in Sam Mendes' mind. It's obvious that a certain amount of thought has been brought to the script, and a certain amount of thought to the interpretation, but they're neither compatible nor consistent. Unless I'm missing something, there's not one single prism that you can look through to see this As You Like It whole. Instead, you wind up looking at everything through a pair of blurry bifocals.

So no, can't say I liked it much, though it had its moments. Silly me. I went to BAM expecting to see a comedy about love. Word to the wise: don't make my mistake. Go to BAM expecting to see Measure for Measure, and I bet you walk out pleasantly surprised. Because this is not a comedy about love. It's not a comedy about anything. And Sam Mendes is not about to let you forget it. (And technically it's not a water-boarding either, it's just a guy shoving another guy's head into a bucket of water until he starts to drown, and then yanking his head out. And then doing it all over again. To which I can only say: in As You Like It? Really??? WTF, Sam?)

Forest? Forest?!? This isn't a "forest"!

Now that's a forest!