Liz Lauren
A woman is pushing Falstaff in a laundry cart as another woman watches.
'Merry Wives' has always been a slightly bawdy rom-com victory lap for Falstaff, here fallen into the laundry cart.
In the pre-show speech for Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor, the rotund rogue Falstaff (David Daniel) tells the audience in American Players Theatre’s outdoor Hill Theatre to silence their cell phones and meet him after the show (with cash in hand) if they want to take any photos. Then he officially introduces the play as The Adventures of Falstaff. Such is the bravado and ego of one of classical theater’s most notable larger-than-life characters — a man of great appetites, bombast and self-serving schemes. Falstaff is just one of the captivating characters we meet in this delightful, season-opening production directed by Terri McMahon, which runs through Oct. 8.
Removed from any literal time and place, this production’s Windsor is an exuberantly colored, fantastical world, watched over by the statue of a bright pink stag. The driving beats of contemporary music introduce hijinks in nearly every scene, thanks to energetic sound design and compositions by Sartje Pickett. Those riffs frequently accompany Brian Cowing’s playful choreography — including an opening dance taught by the cheekily-named teacher “Artura Murray.” Whimsical scenic design by Scott Penner captures a modern, irreverent-hipster vibe, juxtaposing bold navy classical shapes with a metallic gold column and an enormous pink boombox that doubles as a bar. And Susan Tsu’s costumes run the maximalist gamut from voluminous, corseted dresses in bright floral satin and brocade frippery, to layers of quirky street fashion, accessorized with top hats. In this dimension of extremes, love and loyalty are tested, petty differences are forgiven, buffoonery is exposed, and real treachery doesn’t stand a chance.
The Merry Wives of Windsor was notable in Shakespeare’s time because it takes place in the same era when the Bard was writing and it focuses on the middle class — no magical witches or wars between royals, and no “long and ago and far away” plots. Instead, Merry Wives is a slightly bawdy, rom-com victory lap for Falstaff, a character who so amused Queen Elizabeth I, she asked Shakespeare to write a play about him. According to literary legend, the Queen gave the writer just two weeks to complete the new script — so perhaps it can be forgiven for its straightforward, repetitive plot filled with broad characters and very low stakes. She simply wanted a comedy where Prince Hal’s knavish pal fell in love.
“Love” is a stretch for Falstaff in Merry Wives, unless one considers his deep affection for drink or his need for money — both of which must be addressed as the play opens, since the bon vivant is broke. He quickly devises a plan to seduce two of Windsor’s notable women in order to access their sizable bank accounts. But the course of true lust and larceny never did run smooth.
After alienating his band of merry ne’er-do-wells (Marcus Truschinski, Phoebe González and Jamaque Newberry, who each stuff their small parts full of wit and charm), they inform the targeted wives of Falstaff’s facile plans, leaving the formidable best friends Mrs. Ford (Dee Dee Batteast) and Mrs. Page (Kelsey Brennan) fully prepared for his advances. Each time Falstaff propositions them, the duo dispatches and humiliates him with ease. The only one caught in the ruse is the physically stiff, overly-uptight Mr. Ford (Nate Burger), who goes to great lengths to test his wife’s faithfulness. Burger is both extraordinary and exhausting to watch, wearing himself out with misplaced suspicion.
In a slim subplot, the lovely and bookish Anne Page (Naomi Zhanel Kalter) is at odds with her parents about who will have her hand. Thankfully, love wins out when a clearly smitten, plum-clad Fenton (Rasell Holt) joins with Anne to play a trick on the tricksters and the couple are married in secret. Though the pair doesn’t have much stage time, they do give the audience a nice glimpse of romantic young love.
As the notorious knight Falstaff, David Daniel is a marvel. Although he has demonstrated his talent for comedy many times over during the past few seasons, it is still surprising how easily he fits into the character’s signature, generously padded belly. Preening like a Greek god, Daniel’s Falstaff pursues his own downfall with laughable vanity and overconfidence, especially in his prowess as a lover.
But with the cast stacked with APT veterans, he is far from the only one getting laughs. James DeVita’s fussy French doctor is a joy, complete with an accent as thick as aged brie, an Elvis-esque pompadour and plenty of fractured English. Likewise, Josh Krause is delightful as the overexcitable Welsh priest, singing and capering his way through the play. And Tracy Arnold treats audiences to some great malapropisms as a calmly calculating Widow Quickly, who acts as the go-between for many of the would-be lovers, for a price.
With many inserted references to dancing and the raucous celebration after an elaborate prank makes an utter fool of Falstaff, it’s easy to dismiss Merry Wives as light, silly fluff. But there is something especially affirming about seeing the women in this production prevail. They are strong and smart. They are virtuous and practical. They do not tolerate unwanted sexual advances from a man who disgusts them. They go public with his offenses. Further, when a husband tries to treat his wife like property instead of an equal, he is humiliated. And while Anne’s parents are trying to arrange her marriage, she makes very effective arrangements of her own. Those are the kind of self-rescuing heroines I’d like to see more of.
