Dan Norman
Casey Hoekstra, Jonathan Gardner and Brian Mani, from left, in the American Players Theatre production 'The Two "Gentlemen" of Verona.'
What is a gentleman? Casey Hoekstra, Jonathan Gardner and Brian Mani, from left, ask that question in the American Players Theatre production 'The Two "Gentlemen" of Verona.'
In American Players Theatre’s exhilarating production of The Two “Gentlemen” of Verona, the quotation marks around "gentlemen" caught my eye before the first song even began. Those air quotes pose a central question: Are Shakespeare’s young heroes truly “gentlemen,” or are they simply miseducated young men trying out adulthood, learning difficult lessons about love, loyalty, and forgiveness?
Artfully adapted and directed by Aaron Posner, with music and lyrics by Greg Kotis, this inventive reimagining transforms one of Shakespeare’s earliest and most uneven comedies into a joyous Southern Americana-infused theatrical event, blending bluegrass, folk and musical theater influences. The result is not an attempt to change Shakespeare's play, but to embrace its youthful imperfections and to reveal the crux of the story.
From the moment I entered the Hill Theatre, I was welcomed into a distinctly Southern setup. String lights hang above a porch occupied by musicians tuning their instruments. The band remains visible throughout the performance, functioning as both musical accompaniment and active storyteller. The music is the engine that drives the evening, and Kotis’ score does more than provide entertaining interludes. The songs become extensions of the characters' emotional lives, amplifying both the exhilaration and confusion of that thing called love.
In Posner’s director’s note, he describes the production as possessing "the brash and bold energy of youth." Rather than approaching the play as a fully formed romantic comedy, Posner treats it as a story about young people overwhelmed by feelings they do not yet know how to manage. His approach reframes what otherwise might appear to be plot inconsistencies as emotional immaturity. The characters make questionable decisions because they are inexperienced. Their judgment is clouded by the vigor of their youth.
As Shakespeare's first comedy, The Two Gentlemen of Verona contains many ingredients that later appear in stronger works: disguises, mistaken identities, comedic servants, rebellious lovers, and adventures in the wilderness. What it lacks is the sophistication Shakespeare would eventually bring to those elements. Posner recognizes this weakness and wisely leans into it. Rather than smoothing the rough edges, he allows the story’s unpredictability and emotional volatility to become part of its charm.
The story follows childhood friends Valentine and Proteus as they leave Verona in search of adventure and opportunity. As Valentine, Colin Covert brought swagger and vocal prowess to the stage, highlighted by a stirring ballad to Silvia, portrayed with magnetic charm by Ama J. Kuwonu.Proteus, brought to life by Jonathan Gardner with equal measures of charm and impulsiveness, begins the play devoted to Julia but quickly abandons that commitment when Silvia captures his attention. Meanwhile, Julia, played deftly by Maggie Cramer, disguises herself and follows Proteus, only to witness firsthand the depth of his betrayal.
Valentine and Proteus talk confidently about friendship, loyalty and love, yet their actions repeatedly betray how little they understand those ideals. Nowhere is this tension more apparent than in Proteus. His behavior is often narcissistic, impulsive and downright hurtful. Yet the production refuses to reduce him to a simple villain. It presents him as a young man whose inability to deal with his desires causes devastation for those around him. Likewise, Valentine’s earnestness frequently slides into gullibility. Both characters spend much of the evening discovering that integrity requires more than good intentions.
The women emerge as the production’s strongest and most morally grounded figures. Cramer’s Julia is funny, resourceful and emotionally intelligent. Her journey becomes less about romantic devotion and more about the painful process of seeing someone clearly. Through her disguise, she observes Proteus at his worst and must reconcile the man she loves with the man he actually is. Kuwonu’s Silvia refuses to serve merely as an object of desire. Her intelligence and agency anchor the story whenever it threatens to drift into more of a conventional romantic comedy trope.
Posner’s most significant achievement is his handling of the play’s notorious ending. Shakespeare’s original conclusion includes moments that many modern audiences find troubling, particularly in its treatment of Silvia and the ease with which Proteus is forgiven. Rather than ignoring these issues, Posner confronts them directly. His adaptation revises key moments, shifting authority toward Julia and Silvia, and creating a resolution that emphasizes accountability over convenience.
These changes do not erase the play’s flaws, nor should they. Instead, they acknowledge them while creating space for empathy, responsibility and possibly growth. Posner’s director’s note speaks powerfully about social conditioning and the capacity of love to bring out both our best and worst qualities. The production adopts that philosophy without excusing harmful behavior.
Forgiveness, when it comes, feels earned rather than automatic.
The supporting performances contribute significantly to the production’s success. The servants generate some of the evening’s biggest laughs, while the ensemble fully embraces the show's playful spirit. Audience interaction, visual gags, and musical punctuations keep the comedy moving at a brisk pace without sacrificing emotional depth.
Posner, Kotis, and an outstanding company have created a production that is funny, musical, emotionally resonant, and surprisingly insightful. It sings with youthful energy and transforms its flaws into opportunities for reflection. By the final curtain, Valentine and Proteus may not have fully earned the title of quote, unquote, gentlemen, but they have begun to understand what it means. In this inventive and deeply entertaining adaptation, that journey toward self-awareness becomes the play’s most compelling love song.
