There's something peculiarly satisfying about seeing a fine production of a play like Two Gentlemen of Verona. Gentlemen is decidedly second-rate Shakespeare — it's often referred to as a kind of warm-up for brilliant romantic comedies like As You Like It and Twelfth Night — and, as a result, it's not very often revived. But still, this is the Bard, and any lover of the later masterpieces has a natural curiosity about the early stirrings of genius. And this doesn't apply just to Shakespeare — there's something equally exciting in hearing that a theater plans to produce not another Doll's House but The League of Youth or The Pretenders, not another Cherry Orchard but Platonov or Ivanov. It's a chance to play "Before They Were Famous," and to search the Apprentice for the first glimmerings of the Master. You say that there's little memorable dialogue in Gentlemen? But note that fine phrase, "the uncertain glory of an April day," or the three lovely stanzas of the song "Who Is Sylvia," including the lines "Is she kind as she is fair?/ For beauty lives with kindness./ Love doth to her eyes repair,/ To help him of his blindness." All right, the two gentlemen of Two Gentlemen are exceedingly shallow, and the two clowns' routines could just as easily fit in any other comedy, and Julia and Sylvia are no Rosalind and Viola, etc., etc. … Still, it's Shakespeare and we want a chance to, well, sense its implications. After 11 Hamlets, nine Othellos and 16 Midsummer Night's Dreams, can anyone really blame us?
So yes, the current production by Sarasota's FSU/Asolo Conservatory is strong enough to merit the attention of area Bardophiles. It's not utterly consistent — only four of the more than 15 actors are truly outstanding, and there are some multimedia shenanigans that don't entirely work. But three of those four actors are in central roles, and the design of the show, from the colorful 18th-century costumes to the cleverly minimalist set to the wonderfully effective sound — featuring Mozart overtures, of all things — is simply terrific. Director Geoffrey Owens has put together a crisply beautiful production that at its wildest still serves Shakespeare, in both senses of the verb. I've seen more challenging, and certainly more daring productions, but I've seldom seen any quite as lucid as this one. I especially recommend it to persons who are usually scared off by Elizabethan language. This is Shakespeare anyone can follow — and that includes you with the headphones, listening to Nine Inch Nails.
The story the play tells is about Proteus and Valentine, two friends-since-childhood who live in a world dominated by love. Proteus, in Verona, is head over boots for the alluring Julia; Valentine, in Milan, goes bonkers for the beauteous Sylvia. So far, no big problem. But then Proteus' father sends him to Milan, where he discovers that his friend's beloved is more dazzling than his own. So now both buddies want Sylvia for their own, and Proteus jettisons his moral compass in the pursuit. He manages to thwart his pal's elopement with Sylvia, and even gets Valentine banished from Milan. Virtually alone with the irritated maiden — there is one more rival, a certain Thurio — Proteus, with difficulty, presses his suit. But other forces are at work. Julia, lonely for Proteus, comes to Milan disguised as a man, and discovers that her lover has virtually forgotten her. Valentine, in a forest, becomes the head of a group of outlaws (yep, Shakespeare calls them "outlaws") who manage to capture Sylvia, on the run from her father. Proteus, also in the forest, finds Syvia and threatens to rape her, Valentine comes upon his old friend and true love in flagrante delicto, and Julia, still carrying a torch for faithless Proteus, boldly unmasks herself. How will it all sort itself out? Who, older and wiser, will end up with whom?
Making us care are four talented actors: Ross Boehringer as Proteus, Erik Johnson as Valentine, Natasha Staley as Julia and John Long as Valentine's clownish man Speed. I won't claim that any of these actors finds real depth in these characters — Shakespeare simply hasn't written the roles that way. But what each of these four thespians brings to the play is real moment-to-moment mastery of Shakespeare's complex language. This is critical: Shakespeare's dialogue may look massive on the page, but it only works with micromanagement, when the actor feels and understands and manifestly means each word. That's just what these four do; and so, when they're on stage, we follow every twist and turn. The other actors' attempts to seize hold of Shakespeare's text aren't quite as convincing: Darlene Horne as Sylvia, Brit Whittle as Launce and Bryan Crossan as Thurio fail to tame Shakespeare's verse, though they each have patches of achievement as the play progresses. Worst of all are the Outlaws, played by three childlike actors who seem to have escaped from Peter Pan, next door at the Asolo Festival; I can't imagine what director Owens was thinking. But an unqualified success is James Florek's set, a series of modern prosceniums framing a bare stage and backed by a screen on which slides — ostensibly of palaces in Milan, a forest in Mantua, homes in Verona — are projected. These projections, and a very few set pieces (mostly chairs and tables) are all we really need to enjoy a sense of place; and Cathleen Crocker-Perry's exquisitely detailed costumes stand out all the more strongly against the set's neutral color. There are two occasions when film is projected on the screen; neither the first, with its murky swordplay, nor the second, with its anti-climactic wedding, adds anything to our experience. But I again want to mention Owens' intrepid sound design: overtures from Mozart's operas that, strange to say, seem just right. Maybe it's not such a long way from Two Gentlemen to Don Giovanni. Or maybe the play's themes — love and lust, friendship and betrayal — are appropriate for any period.
Anyway, I recommend you see this one. Even with its flaws and inconsistencies, it brings us early Shakespeare with remarkable clarity. There's beauty in this production, and a strong and usually sure directorial hand.
Hey, there'll be Hamlets and Hamlets.
But how often will you have the chance to make the acquaintance of these Two Gentlemen?
This article appears in Dec 1-7, 2004.