It's a pleasure to see Acorn Theatre's new home at Centro Ybor. Though the space is small (and the lobby mostly unfurnished), the theater is handsome and modern, full of potential, and patently versatile. It's not so unusual to find a serious stage at a shopping center. Florida Stage in Palm Beach and Southern Rep in New Orleans — just to name two — operate out of similar digs, and each is an important artistic center in its area.
As for the stage area at Acorn, it's just large enough to keep the inevitable group scenes from looking uncomfortable, and fortunately lacks the odd dimensions that might interfere with designers. And as long as we're on that subject: When I recently saw The Servant of Two Masters at Acorn, I was immediately struck by the elegance of Mitch Oppolosque's set, comprising six faux-marble columns and a central faux-marble platform. An attractive, professional looking set in a small (acorn-like) space; this felt like justice.
Anyway, artistic director Levi Kaplan's original search for a house of 300 or more seats was probably misguided; it's notably difficult to find large theater audiences outside the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center and American Stage. At Centro Ybor, the name "Acorn" makes all kinds of sense. And now we'll see if the tireless Kaplan can turn it into an oak.
He hasn't much helped his cause with Servant, though. This 18th century farce by the amazingly prolific Venetian Carlo Goldoni (137 comedies, 57 scenarios for the commedia dell'arte, 55 librettis for song-plays and opera buffas, 16 tragicomedies and five tragedies) is a not-very-deep story of mistaken identities, love and deception that requires, for its success, a company of remarkable actors. Though several among Acorn's cast for Servant turn in adequate performances, only one — Michael Titone as the fanatically untruthful servant Truffaldino — has the wild energy and the campy, unpredictable inventiveness to hold our attention throughout the many twists and turns of this carnival of a plot.
The Servant of Two Masters provides an opportunity for top actors to show their stuff, to dazzle and delight, to dominate their parts and give us the inimitable thrill of live performance. The Italian tradition to which Goldoni belonged (and which he strove to reform) was about actors, not playwrights, about showcasing the virtuosity of this or that comic genius. Put mere mortals in these roles and the result is nothing more than tedious.
And that, unfortunately, is the effect of Acorn's Servant; when Titone's not on stage, we're bored and impatient. By the time all the twists are unraveled and the couplings ratified, we just want to escape, quickly and politely, from the theater.
The plot: The starving servant Truffaldino becomes the servant of two lovers, Beatrice and Florindo, neither of whom is aware that the other is in Venice. As he tries to keep his dual labors a secret, Beatrice convinces the lovers Clarice and Silvio that he is really Federigo, Beatrice's ostensibly dead brother, to whom Clarice was once betrothed. Florindo and Beatrice rent a room in the same inn, neither knowing that the other is nearby, and all sorts of (hopefully) comic confusions arise involving mail and trunks and money and more. As the increasingly desperate Truffaldino tries to cater to both masters, we're asked to wonder: Will he ever be found out? And will Beatrice find Florindo, will Clarice wed Silvio, and will Truffaldino himself find bliss with the saucy Smeraldina?
As I said, it's a vehicle for top actors, not a study in existential anguish, and it can only be justified by a series of top-notch performances. But what it gets, aside from Titone's impressive hijinks, can be divided into three categories. First, there are the actors who are wise enough to play caricatures, but not quite clever enough to find their complexity — most notably Kelly Sardinas as Smeraldina (unremitting lustiness) and Christian Maier as Florindo (incessant grandiosity).
Then there are the actors who take the play seriously, and offer us something like realism — Brad Minus as Pantalone, Terri Crymes as Beatrice, and Craig Ruska as Silvio. The problem is that these performances eventually alienate us from the comedy, which is the complicated plot's only raison d'etre. And then there are the actors who simply fail to find any recognizable style at all — notably April Carter as Dr. Lombardi and Rebecca Goldman as the innkeeper Brighella.
Director Joe Winskye orchestrates the players' myriad entrances and exits skillfully, but we depend upon a director to create a unified style, and Winskye hasn't done so in Servant. Still, Andrea Jones and Louella Kovacs deserve praise for their colorful period costumes. It's costumes, not set, that have the most power to move an audience out of one time and into the next, and these togs do the job splendidly. It's encouraging to find that on the level of design, Acorn has already avoided some of the most common gaffes of startup theater companies.
Even with Servant's failings, Acorn is, I think, on the way to becoming an important area resource. Artistic director Kaplan and his staff now have a fine space and some talented designers. Next they need a commitment to only the best of local actors performing the most important, even essential, scripts.
Acorn has shown real, if somewhat intermittent, regard for scripts since its beginnings (Death of a Salesman, The Glass Menagerie, Oleanna, and, yes, The Servant of Two Masters); where the company has notably failed is in its choice of performers. This is the young company's next hurdle: Can it find and hire formidable actors? Can it demand a consistent level of talent from its casts in the small roles as well as the large?
Solve this problem and that new space at Centro Ybor will really matter.
This article appears in Apr 5-11, 2006.