A Midsummer's Night Dream

Performed at the Festival Theatre, Stratford Festival, Stratford, Ontario, on September 20th, 2014

Summary Two stars out of five

A sprawling production such as this is a lightning-rod for criticism, putting a chasm between those thrilled by the audacity and humor of the show and those either bewildered or offended by the approach. A modern wedding provides the context, not just a nuptial but a gay as well as inter-racial nuptial, and the Shakespearean story becomes a play-within-a-play entertainment for the newlyweds. An onstage musician scores the production and is sometimes a disc jockey spinning anachronistic tunes as the celebration includes children taking turns at karaoke as well as a quartet of dancers leading dance competitions right onstage. Much of the casting is gender bent, with Puck, Lysander and Quince all played by women, but Titania played by one of two muscular young men, the pair rotating the role with that of Oberon. If the show already seems bursting at its theatrical seams, consider that Egeus is played by a deaf-and-mute actor who signs his role and has his lines spoken by another performer, while a wading pool at center stage allows for splashing pratfalls as well as clean-up for a wedding-cake food fight. A wobbly but energetic entertainment that is more gimmickry than inspiration, a pastiche of bad ideas with good execution.

Design

Directed by Chris Abraham. Designed by Julie Fox. Lighting Design by Michael Walton. Compositions and Sound Design by Thomas Ryder Payne.

Cast

Bethany Jilliard (Hermia), Liisa Repo-Martell (Helena), Tara Rosling (Lysander), Mike Shara (Demetrius), Scott Wentworth (Theseus), Maev Beaty (Hippolyta), Egeus (Michael Spencer-Davis), Stephen Ouimette (Bottom), Lally Cadeau (Quince), Evan Buliung (Oberon), Jonathan Goad (Titania), Chick Reid (Puck), Thomas Ryder Payne (Musician).

Analysis

The Stratford Festival's polarizing Midsummer Night's Dream - is this a lively entertainment that captures a spirited defiance against social convention or just an over-stuffed abomination of cheap jokes and sight gags - is modernized by director Chris Abraham, the setting a wedding party celebration in an Ontario backyard. Patrons are greeted in the aisles of the Festival Theatre as they take their seats, welcomed by ushers and young children, the little boys tearing around in askew mini-tuxedoes, the little girls trying to be demure in flowery big-skirted dresses. Abraham's grassy stage represents a backyard barbecue decorated with burning candles and strings of holiday lights. A long-haired photographer in cargo shorts scurries and crouches for good photo angles, and upstage right a bartender slash musician mixes drinks and plays both disk jockey and one-man house band. In a microcosm of Abraham's approach, the wedding reception honors not just a gay couple, but an inter-racial gay couple, and the two newlywed men arrive downstage in delighted surprise. The couple sits in suburban-style lawn chairs just off downstage center, hand in hand and leaning together, often calling out to apparent friends onstage. The entertainment has a happy hippie feel, and it begins with a fairy-winged child playing a pipe accompaniment to the guitarist bartender - "the Book of Love is long and boring" - that becomes an audience clap-along, ending with the gifts of green wreaths and children dancing a circle around the newlyweds.

Theseus and Hipployta are the hosts for the event, he a debonair gentleman in a white suit with a blue shirt and a spotted tie, delivering a congratulatory toast then rejecting a performance of The Odd Couple as the evening's entertainment before deciding upon Midsummer Night. She is the boozy hostess, a little unsteady and a little slurring, wearing a neon orange top over white slacks and high heels, accompanied by a lithe entourage of twenty-something female dancers, all attractive and obviously trained in modern dance. When Hippolyta spins, the girls do as well, mimicking her movements like back-up dancers or a Fairy Queen's attendants. The four lovers brought before Theseus present an interestingly modern dilemma, with some gender-bent casting: Lysander in Abraham's vision of Midsummer Night is not a man but a diminutive and short-haired young woman, so the forbidden love between Lysander and Hermia is not just a defiance of Egeus as a parent, but a homosexual defiance. And Egeus is not just an outraged parent here, he is an outraged deaf-mute parent who signs his entire role - an onstage interpreter speaks the character's lines aloud - while just offstage down left a pair of interpreters sign the entire performance for a section of the audience.

Mike Shara's pretty-boy Demetrius is the show's highlight, a snotty young mannequin with awesome hair and a Guess ad face to go with his Jagger strut. Even before the show begins, Shara's Demetrius stands out, nursing a bottle of beer while surveying the incoming audience, somehow looking down his nose at everyone while actually looking up at them. When the play-within-a-play begins 1.1, he nearly kicks over a cooler of beer in his rush to be at center stage, then must scramble to return his beer bottle to a fellow guest. Later in the same scene, when Helena's love for him is discussed, he emerges posing like a GQ model atop a slowly spinning clear-glass platform, sliding in from stage right to strike a series of mock-manly poses while revolving so everyone can see him from every angle. His sudden thumbs-up gesture draws laughter as the platform is drawn back offstage. Shara's Demetrius is a delightfully suave lady-killer, his murmur of "hey, hey" to Helena becoming an annoyed "hey, hey!" when she has the audacity to touch his perfectly coifed rock-star hair. Moments later he is spot lit in the deep-balcony cheap seats with a blustery group of students, frustrated by Helena's continuing infatuation: "jeez!" In romantic pursuit of Hermia 3.2, Shara's cad is smooth enough to signal the DJ upstage for some romantic mood music, then dim-witted enough to try and blow out an electric candle. He seems to revel in his audience-favorite role - "I have more lines!" - and in the forest he bounces off the muscular Oberon with a cartoon sound-effect, then continues upstage, pausing to snarl at the scattering little fairies he cannot see, even threatening some of them with a swing of a wooden switch.

The remainder of the four young lovers are entertaining, the ladies very attractive, Lysander not so much gender-bent as clearly lesbian. She wears a beat-up brown bomber jacket, giving the newlyweds a too-cool dual-gun shooting gesture - "chk chk" - when referred to as "son," then dropping to one knee to propose marriage to Hermia. Lysander smiles at the newlyweds through the fourth wall to acknowledge their shouts of encouragement to Hermia - "say 'yes!'" - then waves a cheerful goodbye as she and Hermia rush offstage to elope. Her most showy scenes are in the forest, looking appropriately butch in her short hair and hiking shoes plus an over-sized backpack, leading Hermia with her bulky flashlight. After Hermia pops up a tent with amazing quickness, the two ladies disappear inside, and the sounds of make-out moaning and groaning, along with kicks from inside the shaking tent, are over-long and cringe-worthy uncomfortable. When she is exiled, Tara Rosling's Lysander zips herself into a sleeping bag, awakening enchanted with Helena. Rosling plays it cartoon big, shouting "aroogah!" like an air-horn, then giving Helena an appreciative howl and piercing wolf whistle. Like the worst of an oversexed construction crew, just her face visible as she stands stuck within the sleeping bag, Rosling's Lysander pants like a dog in heat then barks a crude laugh, but can only hop madly within the sleeping bag after Helena. When she stumbles in her randy pursuit and sprawls, she licks her lips lasciviously, then seizes one of Helena's lost high-heels, clutching it with the creepy relish of a pervert.

Liisa Repo-Martell plays a refreshingly different Helena, far from the expected beanpole-and-homely whiner, although still with the poor taste to have a crush on Demetrius. Her Helena is a fiery and determined long-haired blonde in a scarlet headband, flowery skirt and chunky red high heels. Her street-smarts do battle with her heart-strings 3.2, as she sits by the pool center stage while on one side Demetrius kneels and kisses her hand and on the other Lysander sniffs her neck and hair. When she stands, they follow her movements on their knees, Rosling's lascivious Lysander trying to sneak peeks up her shirt, and when she confronts Hermia, the two "boys" stare like mindless zombies before clashing, falling into the center stage pool, and bumping chests. Bethany Jilliard does her best with the somewhat thankless role of good-girl Hermia, for 1.1 wearing black-and-white slacks with a low-cut black shirt then getting rugged 2.2 for the forest with her hair in a pony tail, and she wears cargo pants, sneakers, and a white button-down shirt. Dunked in the pool by Demetrius, Jilliard's Hermia spews water like a fountain before turning her venom on Helena. She splashes her rival as Lysander and Demetrius flee her wrath right into the audience, cowering behind patrons. The conflict devolves into a food fight, and they take turns smearing wedding cake and frosting from the upstage celebration upon each other before Hermia is driven face down into the enormous white cake.

Bottom and the hempen homespuns fare less well, occasionally inspired but more often falling flat. Stephen Ouimette arrives 1.2 as the backyard grill-master, open-shirted and smooth-chested, waving to the newlyweds like an old friend, carrying a grilling tray and sporting a "Daddy-O of the Patio" apron. He has long gray hair and wears sandals, spearing a wiener on his grilling fork as one of the newlyweds accepts a grinding dry hump of a lap dance from a spirited male dancer. The rest of the crew - the gender-bent Peter Quince played by a short-haired woman; a burly red-headed man with a long beard and a can of beer assigned to portray the demure Thisby; Snout the Joiner lisping and spitting in a struggle with a wire dental retainer - are more miss than hit, descending upon Bottom and his tray of hot dogs, then trying to continue the scene mumbling with mouths full, spitting and coughing hot dog parts across the stage. As the DJ pounds out a jungle beat to cue the next scene, Bottom and the mechanicals gather in a football huddle, then fist-bump each other offstage. Their 3.1 rehearsal includes the question of the next full moon, with the company gathering in a busy circle around someone with a smart phone until Quince interrupts with the information already found within a book.

Abraham loads, re-loads and overloads his production, an undeniably entertaining venture overall. Throughout, performers take turns operating hand-held spotlights downstage right and left, aiming the bright stage-level lights to locate speakers. Abraham transitions from Egeus and the young lovers to Bottom and the mechanicals with, I kid you not, a karaoke contest among the children in the wedding party. The kids take turns at a live microphone center stage, each belting out a section from "Grenade" by Bruno Mars - "easy come, easy go" - enhanced by showy finger-snaps, the swaying moves of the backup dancers, and some "raise the roof" dance moves of their own: "I'd catch a grenade for you."

Abraham has the roles of Oberon and Titania played by a pair of stars in the company, both muscular and handsome men, alternating performance by performance the role of Titania in drag. The effect is jarring but amusing, a young big-shouldered man in a sleeveless and shoulderless white gown, playing the Queen straight. The strength of the performers assists in this conceit, Jonathan Goad a muscular-macho Titania with a coy smile and a mischievous glance, and Evan Buliung a snarling Oberon with a guttural mutter and the horns of a ram. Lots of wink-wink in-jokes - "I must be thy lady" - and the impish Puck is also played by a woman, Chick Reid in short hair, furry leggings and the shiny shimmer of a golden jacket. Most of the jokes are lame - "get the Puck out of here" - and Puck's movements are supposed to be rendered high-speed with a "whooshing" sound effect. Some choices are just odd, like the spell upon the sleeping Titania being preceded not just by a lullaby - "come not men, come fairie queene" - of soothing acoustic guitar, but by, I kid you not, a tap-dance competition. The music changes beat as platforms are wheeled in from each side of the stage, and the young female dancers take turns with show-stopping tapping upstage, Puck cheering them on. Other elements also inspire head-scratching, like "the Sentinel" being played by a cute little blond-haired boy in black plastic spectacles, taking a knock-out shot from a blow gun dart fired into his neck by Puck, or young female faeries running through the woods with bunny ears and masks: "hi!" they shout to Helena.

Ouimette's Bottom is translated 3.1, returning from upstage with his donkey head and buck teeth, his chest now wildly hairy, his tail held in his hands. Shouts and high-pitched squeals of panic are followed by Quince shielding himself with a crucifix, then Ouimette's Bottom leads the audience in a clap-along accompaniment to his spell-like chant: "I am not afraid, I am not afraid." Goad's Titania shows drop-jawed lust for Bottom that is of course amusing, as she dances her way right out of her night dress, then laughs too loudly at his jokes. Goad's physicality elevates the scene: the broad-shouldered Queen gives Bottom a flirty push that nearly propels him into the front row of the audience, and she lifts him with ease to swing him high into the air and into a seat upon a boulder center stage. She later gives him an embrace that has him calling for a breathless sports time-out, and to end the first act Goad's Titania rubs Bottom's shoulders so his leg begins to thump like that of a petted dog.

Buliung's rock-star Oberon opens the second half like a master of ceremonies, blowing kisses to the audience and giving grand waves to the school groups in the upper reaches of the Festival Theatre. He sneaks a lick of wedding cake icing - "I'm the King of the Faeries; I can do what I want" - but a lunge at the mischievous Puck lands him backward in the center stage pool, and he emerges with wet pants in a splash, calming the hooting audience with "all right, all right" and later referring to his damp drawers as "this night's accidents." He admonishes Puck 3.2 - "this is your mischief" - and Reid's Puck dutifully records some thoughts in a notebook, then orchestrates, I kid you not, a sexy flamenco dance exhibition with all four female dancers joined by the diminutive "spirit" dancers, the music lively guitar strumming peppered by castanets. During the erotically charged dance, the young children spirits gather the four young lovers in somnambulant spells onstage, Helena requiring more than just a little pursuit, and they collapse simultaneously in bedeviled heaps as Buliung's Oberon intones, "Jill shall have Jill, and Jack shall have Jack."

The night's love spells begin to fade 4.1 amid rolls of stage fog, Ouimette's Bottom fist-bumping Mustardseed and unable to control his laughter at just the appearance of Peaseblossom. When the four dancers sing, they are joined first by the bray of Bottom as a sleeping donkey, then by Goad's Titania in a screechingly high trying-to-be-feminine pitch. After the Queen cringes at the sight of Bottom, Abraham cuts to Theseus and Hippolyta, both wearing sunglasses and hung over - "oh no you di'n't!" is called when they enter - but using air horns to awaken the sleeping lovers. Once Shara's Demetrius - now clad in a black Ramones t-shirt - proclaims his love for Helena and kisses her, Theseus drops to a knee to present each of the lovers with a flower, much to Hippolyta's approval. Even the interpreter gives a romantic thumbs up, though the silent Egeus storms offstage.

The return of Bottom 4.2 - dumped unceremoniously center stage from a wheel barrow - signals the performance of Pyramus and Thisby for the newlyweds, and appropriately for such a jam-packed production, presents a play-within-a-play-within-a-play. The performers, to the reverb from bagpipes, offer toasts to their star - "sweet bully Bottom!" - as well as cheers for the news: "our play is preferred!" The passionate kiss between Theseus and Hippolyta - he carries a champagne bottle, she her shoes - prompts calls of "oooh" from the entering newlyweds, the dancers gathering behind Theseus as he selects his evening's entertainment from, yes, an iPad. The concluding abomination of a theatrical performance is brief and occasionally clever, with Wall wearing a gigantic "Broil King" grill cover over his shoulders and the dentally-adjusted Lion wearing an orange gortex coat with knee pads and oven mitts for paws. The "chink" through which the lovers speak is of course a circle of fingers held at crotch level, and Ouimette's Bottom clumsily forces some rhymes, like "sinister" with "whisiper" and "blood" with "good." When Thisby misses her entrance cue, Quince tries to locate her with, I kid you not, a text message, while Hippolyta drunkenly identifies with the broken-hearted "Frisbee." The Bergomask dance big-finish features a driving bass-beat with pulsating flashes of various colors of light like a late-1970s disco redux, everyone onstage gyrating and the faux scenery collapsing from the pound of the drumbeats. The audience joins in clap-along, and the new-wave dancers execute big Soul Train moves to New Order's "Bizarre Love Triangle" - "every time I see you falling, I get down on my knees and pray" - while Bottom gets the newlyweds up for their first dance. Puck appears with a ceremonial marriage broom at center stage, and is joined first by Oberon and Titania, then by all three newlywed couples, before re-appearing to give the final valediction from the balcony, just prior to, I kid you not, a final dance.