Cymbeline at the BeBe Theatre
One does not expect to spend the pre-show of a Shakespeare performance surrounded by the Saturday-morning cartoon anthems of DuckTales, Animaniacs, and Pinky and the Brain. One does not expect many things that happen during Nemesis Theatre Company’s production of Cymbeline, which debuted May 11 at the BeBe Theatre in downtown Asheville.
Better writers than me have tried — and failed — to offer a summary of what Nemesis artistic director Melon Wedick calls “possibly Shakspeare’s wackiest play.” No less than the legendary English scholar Samuel Johnson, author of the most influential dictionary in history, had this to say:
“To remark the folly of the fiction, the absurdity of the conduct, the confusion of the names and manners of different times, and the impossibility of the events in any system of life, were to waste criticism upon unresisting imbecility, upon faults too evident for detection, and too gross for aggravation.”
Johnson’s judgment reflects the 15-car-pileup of plots Shakespeare works into Cymbeline. There’s a tale of forbidden love between the princess Imogen (Christine Hellman) and Leonatus Posthumus (Zak Hamrick) à la Romeo and Juliet; the scheming of an evil queen (Molly Graves) as in Macbeth; the worries of the titular British king (Eric Vik) as he faces a Roman assault like that of Antony and Cleopatra. Some critics have argued the Bard was, in one of his final works, taking the piss out of his own repertoire, mocking the contrived elements that undergird even his most classic plays.
Nemesis takes that thread and runs an ultramarathon with it. Consider Danielle King’s costume design: Hamrick emerges resplendent in a Day-Glo pink tank top with silvery sequins spelling his character’s name, while the moody prince Cloten (Jon Stockdale) wears the salmon polo and neck-tied white sweater of an Ivy League legacy kid. Or Raechel Callahan’s prop direction, which employs a slap bracelet as a critical token of love and a giant inflatable deer as the spoils of successful hunt. Or Jered Shults’ fight choreography, clearly inspired by professional wrestling and Karate Kid martial arts.
Wedick has taken substantial liberties with Shakespeare’s script to highlight its absurdity. Most obvious is the addition of two new characters, Actor 1 (Graves again; every actor save Hamrick plays at least three roles) and Actor 2 (Erin McCarson), who sit at the back of the stage with literal popcorn in hand to offer pithy summaries or interject snide remarks. Shakespeare’s original roles also get plenty of humorous asides and modern rephrasings sprinkled throughout their lines.
So much of the production is contemporary, but it feels true to the origins of the play. After all, Shakespeare got his start among the rowdy venues of late 16th-century London, where groundlings wouldn’t hesitate to voice their thoughts on the action. The opening night audience certainly got into the spirit — when the lecherous Iachimo (Alex McDonald) climbed into a trunk as part of an attempt to besmirch Imogen’s honor, for example, one modern groundling cried out, “It’s a dick in a box!”
And the company clearly loves the source material, even with, or perhaps because of, all its quirks. Their proclamation of Shakespeare’s language is clear and thoughtful throughout, and many key scenes are given the chance to play relatively straight. Graves induces chills when she issues imperious commands as queen, while Vik’s King Cymbeline brings true pathos in his reactions to the many secrets revealed throughout the plot.
The tripling and quadrupling of roles also gives each actor the chance to show their breadth of capabilities. Paul Vonasek deserves particular praise on this front: His loyal servant Pisanio is tragically tormented by impossible commands, his Dr. Cornelius is imbued with impeccable comic timing, and his toga-clad, dream-sequence Jupiter is…let’s say “unbelievable” in all the best senses of the word.
Perhaps the production’s biggest concession to modernity is the ending, rewritten by the company to let Hellman’s Imogen address the many wrongs she’s suffered. “Some retribution is mixed in our rebirth, but Imogen’s transformation from sheltered princess to independent woman feels worth it,” Wedick writes in her director’s note. “We hope you will agree.”
It’s a bold choice, replacing the capacity for forgiveness Shakespeare gives Imogen in the original with a thirst for fairness. It suggests that demanding justice is a more valid response to the absurdities of the plot — to the absurdities of life outside the theater — than offering mercy.
Should that be so? Amid all its madcap antics, Cymbeline gives the audience a deeply meaningful question to ponder.
Cymbeline runs through Sunday, May 21, at the BeBe Theatre. For details and tickets, visit NemesisTheatre.com.
(Photo by Eliza Alden Photography)
