Summary 
Well-acted first act domestic tragedy buoyed by an exceptional Leontes, then a strangely monstrous bear and a spinning choric Time suspended in mid-air, followed by a colorful song-and-dance second act featuring a thieving gypsy Autolycus. A poignant conclusion - sans the dance of twelve satyrs - to a difficult play with a schizophrenic construction.
Design
Directed by Marti Maraden. Designed by John Pennoyer. Lights by Louise Guinand. Sound by Todd Charlton. Compositions by Marc Desormeaux.
Cast
Ben Carlson (Leontes), Yanna McIntosh (Hermione), Sean Arbuckle (Camillo), Seana McKenna (Paulina), Dan Chameroy (Polixenes), Ian Lake (Florizel), Brian Tree (Archidamus/Old Shepherd), Mike Shara (Young Shepherd), Cara Ricketts (Perdita), Tom Rooney (Autolycus).
Analysis
The Stratford Festival of Canada produces a dual-themed production of The Winter's Tale - dark Sicilian tragedy versus colorful gypsy romance - within the black-box space of the Tom Patterson Theatre. Marti Maraden begins with a sparse but stylish presentation of Sicilia, featuring a pair of Oriental-style teardrop lamps flanking a large serving table loaded with chalices and pitchers. A long-haired and bearded old Archidamus growls an introductory monologue, describing the friendship of King Leontes with Polixenes of Bohemia, the men entering as he speaks, wearing flowing robes over boots.
The heart of Maraden's production is Ben Carlson's volatile Leontes, an Othello-like anti-hero with a mercurial temperament. Maraden shows Leontes 1.2 in gregarious host mode, pleasantly smiling and relaxed, toasting his long-haired friend Polixenes and abiding his son Mamillius, who whines and pulls incessantly on his robes from behind. The stage fills with partying characters, guests of Carlson's welcoming Leontes and the noticeably pregnant Hermione. After Polixenes plays with a toy dog and makes barking noises at Mamillius, he sits on a downstage bench with Hermione and endures her insistence that he lengthen his visit. Carlson's Leontes makes casual inquiries - "is he won yet?" - then coolly remarks on Polixenes' decision to stay: "at my request he would not."
Maraden presents the sudden change within Leontes via spotlight as the other characters move to the edges of the stage - "too hot, too hot" - and Polixenes places a shawl over Hermione's shoulders. Carlson's Leontes seems like another person altogether, his transitionless change so Jekyll-and-Hyde abrupt it plays more like witchcraft than character flaw. After an outraged soliloquy from Carlson, hunched as if carrying an enormous weight, Leontes stands alone in a spotlight as eerie music rises, the guests as well as Polixenes - "what means Sicilia?" - noticing the change in his behavior. Carlson's Leontes nearly staggers as if suddenly possessed with demons, questioning his young son - "art thou my calf?" - then shouting as his emotions devolve into anger: "go, play, boy, play...your mother plays." He vacillates, embracing his son and calling in anguish to his advisor Camillo, and Carlson mesmerizes, his speech becoming quicker and louder, his body language more tormented. He derides "Sir Smile" Polixenes as well as Hermione - "my wife is slippery" - before becoming violent with Camillo. He insults the man - "your eyeglass is thicker than a cuckold's horn" - then shoves him all the way across the stage in a sprawl, before threatening him into the poison-murder of Hermione's heart: "do't not, thou splitst thine own."
By 2.1 Carlson's Leontes has become unyielding - "all's true that is mistrusted" - and seems capable of Othello-like acts of violence in the most emotionally charged and effective scenes of the entire production. Clad in a black fur and monster-like in his stony resolve - "I have drunk and seen the spider" - he yanks Mamillius from his mother's side and shouts his accusation: "she's an adultress!" When Carlson's red-faced Leontes tears the multi-colored African afghan from Hermione's shoulders and throws it to the stage - "away with her to prison" - the worried women upstage take each other by the hands and gather in a circle while the men fret downstage and avoid eye contact with the King.
Seana McKenna's red-headed and fiery Paulina provides the only voice of reason 2.2, announcing in a flinty fury that a princess has been born as Carlson's Leontes blusters though a soliloquy as if about to come apart at the mental seams, a la Macbeth. He sits exhausted downstage, bent over and head down, his hands balled into fists, deriding his newborn daughter - "a mankind witch!" - accusing his advisors - "a nest of traitors" and "you're liars all" - then threatening Paulina: "I'll ha' thee burnt." McKenna's Paulina is well-played but would have carried more power if she had had time to develop as an onstage observer; as it stands she emerges from nowhere as the only opposition - "it is an heretic that makes the fire" - to the King's jealous rage. Maraden concludes Carlson's exposition of violent emotions - "I'll not rear another's issue" - with a fading spotlight on the seething King as an assassin exits with his infant daughter mewling within a wicker basket.
The 3.2 trial scene proves effective, with the rising sound effects of a milling crowd and an onstage bailiff shouting "silence!" as the now pompously self-indulgent Leontes sits with his eyes closed and his chin up to listen to the indictment. Hermione defends herself in a sickly near-soliloquy - "Apollo be my judge" - and when the priests return from the oracle, they kneel and swear upon the handle of a jeweled sword. Maraden moves the scene with precision, the events pummeling Carlson's Leontes like body blows, as he is insulted by the gods - "Leontes a jealous tyrant" - before Hermione collapses to the stage and Paulina arrives with news that Mamillius has died. Carlson's Leontes then spins believably backward, great credit due to actor and director, and the King begins a rambling apology in agonized self-realization, bouncing pathetically like a human pinball from courtier to courtier before falling to his knees and covering his face. Paulina kneels with him after revealing (falsely) that Hermione has also died - "say no more" - and they gently touch hands as she helps him stand amid rising music.
Maraden begins the always uneasy transition from domestic tragedy to Bohemian fairy tale 3.3, showing men with lanterns leaving a crying infant girl in a basket upon a storm-tossed beach. Antigonus leaves a scroll and a wooden chest, but becomes frightened by flashing storm lights and exits, pursued by a bear, a two-person monstrosity that rises and roars upstage, flashing long claws and a mass of long feathers as it gallops after him. The oddity of the feathered sea-beast bear is followed by doltish shepherds discovering the princess Perdita - "a very pretty one" - among driftwood, bringing interval. Maraden's transition from a domestic tragedy of jealousy to Bohemian fantasy continues 4.1 with a spot lit Father Time clad in white and suspended in a spotlight high above the stage amid string music and thumping drums. The special effect is fun to watch, but oddly whimsical after the harshly evoked tragedy of the first act, and the choric Time glides back and forth to address the audience while seeming to float in mid-air - "I turn my glass" - then spinning completely around like the hands of a clock not just once but twice. After a 4.2 conversation between the now aged Polixenes and Camillo, 4.3 bursts into full Bohemian mode, with dancing gypsies clad in colorful veils.
Just as Carlson's Leontes is the centerpiece of the first act, Tom Rooney's thieving gypsy Autolycus is the focus of the second act, although the two characters are unrelated and almost completely distinct thematically, as if from different plays - and productions - altogether. Rooney's Autolycus bounds to the stage like an aging rock-star hippie gypsy, singing aloud - "the sweet birds o how they sing, cheep cheep" - interacting with the audience and looking for coin handouts with his tin cup. He finds a pretty young girl in the front row and flirts with her, shaking the cup at her, even reaching down to grab her purse. Rooney's Autolycus then turns his attention to her friend, persisting until someone finally drops a loonie in his begging cup to audience applause. He then moves to center stage, singing again and getting a laugh when he looks at the coin in the cup and repeats his "cheap cheap" bird call. Rooney's performance as Autolycus is scene-stealing entertainment, a showy personality and clever wordplay in a wild array of gypsy clothing, as he steals white sheets drying on nearby bushes, then pretends to be a beaten mugging victim but picks the pocket of the passerby who helps him stand. He feigns hurt feelings at being accused - "I pray you that kills my heart" - and soliloquizes 4.4 with his tied-together string of stolen purses before trading clothes with the aristocratic Florizel to supposedly aid the young prince in his romance of Perdita. Rooney's Autolycus reveals a delicious wit - "though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance" - along with his outrageous persona, as when he pauses to urinate on an upstage bush, but one wishes for a more integral dramatic role for the colorful character, especially after the earlier courtroom melodrama.
The romance between Perdita and Ian Lake's handsome Florizel provides a slender thread back to the first act. He lifts her up and spins her to his knee in athletic wooing, and a dozen Bohemians - wearing flowing blouses and shirts, loose colorful pants and boots - interrupt their kiss, forming a line dance with six girls on one side facing six boys on the other, shouting and leg-kicking upon Persian-style rugs. They shout and clap, dancing with great energy until interrupted by Polixenes and Camillo. The two young lovers escape to Sicilia, and action returns 5.1 to Leontes' court.
Carlson's now devout Leontes kneels in prayer before burning incense, submissive to Paulina - "I will not marry until thou bidst us" - and kinder and gentler, as he reveals in his affection for Perdita, lovely in a bright yellow dress with gold necklace, wristlets and earrings. Maraden slows the pace to a comfortable crawl, as the oracle is fulfilled 5.2, Autolycus escapes the court, and McKenna's Paulina leads everyone 5.3 to the "statue" of the supposedly deceased Hermione. McKenna's commanding presence is a welcome echo from the first-act drama, and shimmering white curtains fall - "I keep it lonely...apart" - as she reveals Hermione posed on a three-step platform before a wall of lit candles. Carlson's mellowed Leontes - "I will kiss her" - kneels before the statue and all follow as Paulina - "'tis time" - summons music. Maraden focuses on the joy and forgiveness of the moment, eschewing the spectacle of the text's dance of twelve satyrs and the melodrama of divine intervention. Hermione simply breathes, and the entire cast - save for McKenna's Paulina - gasps and falls back as Hermione slowly descends to gently embrace Carlson's overjoyed Leontes. Maraden's fanciful conclusion includes Florizel on his knees as Paulina - "go together, you precious winners all!" - has her hand joined to Camillo's by Leontes. The entire cast exits in smiles, and in a refreshingly subtle -as well as poignant - final stage picture, Maraden fades the lights as Leontes and Hermione smile and begin moving forward, blacking out the theatre just as they reach one another.
Note: A version of this article was edited and published in Shakespeare Bulletin, Vol. 29, No. 1, Spring 2011.