Sound and fury at the Tampa Shakespeare Festival

The Tampa Shakespeare Festival has a sound problem, and any production that doesn’t compensate for it is going to disappoint. The problem, in part, is background noise: the constant hum of traffic on I-275, children playing, fountains splashing, motorboats on the Hillsborough River, even the occasional helicopter. The other difficulty is that the Downtown Rotary Pavilion at Water Works Park is so wide and deep that it muffles all dialogue from approximately center stage and back. I mentioned this in a review a year ago, and suggested that microphones were the inevitable solution; but there are no mics this year either, leaving it up to individual directors to discover other ways of surpassing what is a far from minor difficulty.

Fortunately, Megan Lamasney finds solutions in her solid, no-frills version of Much Ado About Nothing; but Dan Granke treats his production of Richard III as if there were no competition from other sound-sources, and the result is a tragedy that’s at least half inaudible. I know that my job is to review theater, not highway buzz, but to leave this hindrance unmentioned would be to mislead potential audience members. So be ready to hear cars and trucks mar some of the most brilliant lines ever written.

Still, Lamasney’s Much Ado works. She solves for sound by having her actors belt out each line, often directly to the audience, and by keeping them away from the back half of the playing space, where iambic pentameter gets swallowed. She even places some scenes on the offstage sidewalk that divides the spectators from the pavilion, allowing us to see and hear everything at close range.

Her actors are skillful (though there’d be more room for subtlety if they didn’t have to shout out most lines). Katrina Stevenson gives one of her best performances ever as a witty, pugnacious Beatrice, untouched by the spark of romance until she’s tricked into thinking Benedick loves her; and Jack Holloway is a muscular, self-confident Benedick, so surprised at his love for Beatrice that he can hardly bring himself to speak the word “marry.” As Hero, a woman wrongfully accused of infidelity, Maggie Mularz is sturdy, if not highly prismatic; and as Claudio, the lover who should have known better, Cliff Kelley delivers a likable, if again not very colorful performance. Derrick Phillips as Hero’s father and Eddie Gomez as a friar also turn in fine work. Erica Goldman’s period costumes are wonderfully Shakespearean and, as in Shakespeare’s day, there’s nothing like a set.

Richard III is another story. Only three of the 10 actors in this history play are always audible, and it may be no coincidence that they’re also actors who did so well in Much Ado. Phillips as the titular king is a vicious, relentless megalomaniac, willing to do anything it takes to steal the crown, and delighted, for a while, with a series of successes. This Richard has a lean and hungry look, limps around the stage with unceasing energy, and credibly convinces Lady Anne, whose husband he murdered, to marry him on the rebound. As his Accomplice-in-Chief, the Duke of Buckingham, Holloway is ever-available for whatever mischief Richard might cook up, and as Queen Elizabeth, Stevenson is smart, sharp and dignified. The other actors (there are seven more, some of them double- and triple-cast) are simply too difficult to hear, though I suspect that Mularz (in three different roles) is playing real Shakespeare behind the din.

Again, Goldman’s costuming is impressive, though I wish she’d thought of something more original than white sheets for the ghosts. As for the sword-fighting, by the time Richard and his enemies got into it, the sun had disappeared (this performance had begun at 6 p.m.) and I couldn’t see clearly enough (there’s no stage lighting) to tell you whether it was well-choreographed or not. If you do go to Richard III, I recommend that you read a synopsis of the play first: Even after long acquaintance with the script, I had trouble following the action. To be honest, there were moments when I felt like walking out — if the makers of this production didn’t care that I couldn’t hear anything, why should I sit there pretending to pay attention?

The Tampa Shakespeare Festival could easily be one of the best things that’s happened in local theater recently, but it’s got to decide whether it’s major league or bush league. If it’s major league, these sound problems won’t be back in 2017. If it’s not — well, we’ll have to get our Shakespeare elsewhere. 

This article appears in Mar 17-23, 2016.