Stage Review
THE WINTER’S TALE
Play by William Shakespeare. Directed by Bryn Boice. Presented by Commonwealth Shakespeare Company. On Boston Common through Aug. 4. Free. Commshakes.org
There is no shortage of theater traditionalists who think that the works of William Shakespeare need protection rather than reimagining, as if their playhouses were museums and not places to play.
But a little artistic alchemy that transports an Elizabethan masterwork to a different time and temperament can take outmoded themes and render them relevant. With a bit of poetic license, blank verse can better resonate for those who are iambic pentameter averse. And some literary blasphemy in the form of color-blind and gender-conscious casting can help those who don’t look like the creator of the canon find their voices in it.
Commonwealth Shakespeare Company’s (CSC) free theater on Boston Common has, over its 27-year history, made reimagining The Bard’s brilliance its signature style. Last year’s outdoor staging of “Macbeth,’’ for instance, was given a contemporary wartime setting that, according to the Globe review, called to mind the madness and misery of Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Volodymyr Zelensky’s Ukraine.
This summer, the CSC tackles one of a handful of Shakespeare’s works referred to as “problem plays’’ due to their ambiguous nature, and it is ripe for rethinking and renewed relevance.
“The Winter’s Tale’’ traces the fallout after a jealous King Leontes of Sicilia (Nael Nacer) falsely accuses his pregnant wife, Hermione (Marianna Bassham), of infidelity with his childhood friend, the visiting King Polixenes of Bohemia (Omar Robinson). Leontes has Hermione imprisoned, instructs his trusted courtier Camillo (Tony Estrella) to kill Polixenes, and orders Antigonus (Robert Walsh) to abandon the newborn child, Perdita, in Bohemia. There she is rescued and raised as a peasant girl by a shepherd (Richard Snee). Sixteen years pass and the young girl (Clara Hevia) falls in love with Bohemian prince Florizel (Joshua Olumide). Their love, along with the epiphany that Perdita is the Sicilian princess, brings the kingdoms together and Leontes repents upon his daughter’s return.
In short, “The Winter’s Tale’’ is a captivating parable of betrayal, loss, forgiveness, and redemption. But the play — one of Shakespeare’s last and least performed — initially reads like a tragedy grounded in tyranny, toxic masculinity, and terrible parenting, that transitions into a joyous romp of mistaken identity, pastoral pleasantries, and romance.
CSC’s Bryn Boice suggests in the playbill’s “Director’s Note’’ that Shakespeare was at the end of his career and at the height of his craft when he wrote this play, and decided that the long-established rules of artistic engagement were something to be challenged. He has this play move forward 16 years simply by bringing in Time (Paula Plum) and giving her an explanatory monologue. He places several significant monologues in the hands of secondary characters, such as Queen Hermione’s attendant Paulina (also played by Plum). And rather than play out several important plot twists that lead to the play’s conclusion, he has a character identified as Third Gentleman (Nettie Chickering) summarize those story lines in one fell swoop.
Frankly, the entrance of Time reads like ancient Greek gimmicky, and the story line summary comes across as if “The Winter’s Tale’’ were a primetime drama unexpectedly canceled mid-season and given an episode to wrap things up. And there’s still the shift from tragedy to comedy that is so abrupt as to give audiences whiplash, directors nightmares, and us critics plenty to write about if the creative powers-that-be behind a production don’t address on stage the tonal disparity that appears in the script.
Boice has chosen to embrace and embellish the discordance, as if the problems in this “problem play’’ were opportunities to engage the audience in thought-provoking, often powerful storytelling. And by placing this play in a modern time and having the two disparate nations led by two morally dissonant rulers sharing the same setting on stage, the play suggests the state of our nation during this election year.
This production leans heavily on the creative input of skilled artisans to illustrate the stark differences between the two lands. Scenic designer James J. Fenton has built a solid multi-tiered structure with passages for entrances and exits, sandwiched between two steep flights of stairs. With stark lighting and abundant shadows, courtesy of Maximo Grano De Oro’s design, Rachel Padula-Shufelt’s monochromatic costuming, and a foreboding soundscape by Mackenzie Adamick and David Remedio, Sicilia is a cold, ridged, and brutal place. When replaced with an explosion of color, vibrant bling, glow-in-the-dark accessories, and a techno synth soundtrack, Bohemia is “Twelfth Night’s’’ Illyria on steroids.
A very talented ensemble of actors can be found on stage, with noteworthy leading performances turned in by Bassham, Nacer, Robinson, and Plum. They have crafted rich, dimensional characters, listen intently to one another, and handle Shakespeare-speak as if it were their native tongue.
Ryan Winkles as con artist Autolycus and Cleveland Nicoll as Clown are provided with the lion’s share of the comedy found in Bohemia — something director Boice has brazenly untethered in this production. In one particularly clever exchange, Autolycus cons an unsuspecting Clown out of his clothing. The scene hardly contributes to the story, but it manages to be one of the most entertaining moments of storytelling.
As if this play’s ambiguous nature wasn’t enough, the script includes one of the oddest and most difficult to execute stage directions in all of Shakespeare’s works, which are notorious for having few. “Exit, pursued by a bear’’ occurs roughly halfway through the play, as Antigonus leaves baby Perdita on the shores of Bohemia and meets his death at the hands of the creature. Rather than having an actor in a bear costume or evoking a bear through lighting effects or a projection of the constellation of Ursa Major in the night sky, here the bear takes the form of Hermione’s incensed spirit. It works.
Everything does in this fine production of “The Winter’s Tale.’’
