Liz Lauren
Pompey (a scene-stealing David Daniel, left) and Lucio (Casey Hoekstra).
I used to think that Shakespeare’s “problem plays” were so named because they were difficult to stage or for audiences to digest. They aren’t — the classification refers to the idea that these plays addressed social issues or “problems” — but perhaps there is something to my naive and youthful assumption. Plays like Measure for Measure, which opened Aug. 18 in the Hill Theatre at American Players Theatre, straddle the line between comedy and tragedy. There is inherent discomfort in that balancing act, but that complex juxtaposition of emotions makes this production resonate as well as it does. After all, our lives do encompass this messy mix.
Director Risa Brainin sets this production in the present day, and the play, with its themes of corruption and justice, lends itself to this update quite easily.
The play begins as the Duke (James Ridge) departs his city, entrusting the strict enforcement of laws (both current and archaic) to his deputy Angelo (Marcus Truschinski), whom he believes to be an honorable man and the ideal person to rid the city of vice and debauchery in his absence.
Acting on new and overzealous orders from Angelo, security forces (looking pointedly like ICE agents) scoop up young Claudio (Roberto Tolentino), who has impregnated his longtime girlfriend, Juliet (Cher Desiree Álvarez). Claudio is sentenced to die for this crime, which under the Duke’s reign was largely ignored.
Claudio’s friend Lucio (Casey Hoekstra) is dispatched to alert Claudio’s sister Isabella (Melisa Pereyra), a novice nun about to take her vows. Isabella pleads with Angelo to show her brother mercy and astutely instructs him to look inward and consider his own sins. Angelo is immediately drawn to Isabella’s goodness and virtue, and his attraction to her combined with his newfound power compels him to make her a vile offer: If she allows him to take her virginity, he will spare her brother’s life.
As is Shakespeare’s wont, complex machinations ensue — including disguises, mistaken identities, severed heads, “bed-tricks” and surprise marriages.
Ridge is amusingly adroit as the Duke, spending most of the play masquerading as a busybody friar who has a hand in all aspects of the plot. Like a Shakespearean episode of Undercover Boss, the Duke’s new perspective shows him how he is perceived by his citizens (embodied by a slanderous, pesky Lucio) and gives him a front-row seat to a shocking display of just how quickly how power corrupts.
As Isabella, Pereyra is even more compelling than she was in her luminous portrayal of Juliet in APT’s 2014 Romeo and Juliet. Isabella is a forthright woman with a strong moral compass, and Pereyra palpably conveys a mixture of horror, shame and helplessness when Angelo attempts to assault her. Viewing this #metoo moment through our current lens of increased awareness of sexual assault and harassment makes Pereyra’s performance even more potently moving.
There is no shortage of charismatic scene-stealers in this production. David Daniel is almost unrecognizable as the gum- and scenery-chewing pimp Pompey. Sporting a home perm wig and dressed in the autumnal colors of the 1970s, he sometimes looks (and sounds) like a character from Serpico or Mean Streets. He brings a specific kinetic quality to the role that keeps things exciting. Hoekstra’s Lucio is a magnetic smart-ass whose energy and wit (and good looks) make his every appearance welcome. In two small roles John Pribyl reminds us why he is such a gift to the deep bench of talent at APT.
Scenic designer Nayna Ramey serves up a set that initially brings to mind the sleek and sterile corporate headquarters of a Fortune 500 company but then appropriately morphs into a modern prison facility. Devon Painter’s costumes are somewhat anachronistic. Claudio and Juliet are flower children prior to their incarceration, and Angelo’s suit would seem more at home in a Matrix movie, but when prisoners are paraded before the audience, the costumes bring to mind the stark shame of Guantanamo Bay.
Director Brainin does not shy away from the play’s abrupt tonal shifts. She doesn’t cop out by muting the comedy to bolster the drama (or vice versa). This exploration of injustice, hypocrisy, abuse of power and sexual politics was penned by Shakespeare in 1603, but is plainly amplified by our current political and social climate. When Isabella says, “It is excellent to have a giant's strength but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant,” the audience murmurs in agreement.
Note: The January 2013 episode of Bardcast: The Shakespeare Podcast provides some helpful touchpoints in terms of plot and key dialogue, and is almost the perfect length for some pre-show prep en route from Madison to Spring Green.
