theater
Ashland’s Oregon Shakespeare Festival
runs Feb. 18 through Oct. 9; info &
tickets at www.osfashland.org
JENNY GRAHAM
Modern Day
Misanthrope
Corrupting Power
Anthony Heald has landed some plum parts in recent years at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival — Shag/Shakespeare in Equivocation and Shylock in
last year’s Merchant of Venice — and the actor once again fi nds himself at the center of a thickly layered, ambiguous play, this one about the nature of
power and religious belief. Shakespeare wrote Measure for Measure, the festival’s Illuminations guide explains, just before he began working on the four
major tragedies (Hamlet, Othello, Macbeth, King Lear). Certainly the script fl irts with both comedy and tragedy as Heald’s Duke of Vienna (“an American
town,” explains the playbill) pretends to leave town just to fi nd out what his deputy, Angelo (René Millán), will do with his newfound power.
Turns out Angelo doesn’t know much about mercy. The town is full of pimps, whores and kids who sleep together before they’re married, and
Angelo’s determined to clean it up (the setting for the play is 1975, with Vienna sitting near the Mexico/U.S. border). The plot includes the Duke
disguising himself as a friar; the efforts of Isabela, a novice nun (Stephanie Beatriz, quite good in a role tremendously different from last year’s
Maggie the Cat), to free her brother Claudio (Frankie Alvarez) from the death sentence Angelo gives him for getting his girlfriend (Alejandra
Escalante) pregnant; and a bunch of side plots involving Lucio (Kenajuan Bentley, sublimely masterful in the comic role), Mistress Overdone (Cristofer
Jean) and Pompey (Ramiz Monsef, also quite good).
The self-proclaimed incorruptible Angelo fi nds himself intensely attracted to Isabela, telling her that if she gives him her body, he may save her
brother’s life. Can the Duke save everyone? Should he? And what about his own weaknesses? Go to this messy, multi-layered, complex production
and let Las Colibri — a mariachi band – and Clint Ramos’ set transport you to the halls and brothels of power, where you can discover the answers for
yourself. — Suzi Steffen
Dead languages pile up and spill over the set of The Language Archive, each towering
stack of boxes threatening to bury their archivist in the tapes and transcripts of loss.
In Julia Cho’s recent play, men and women can’t communicate and can’t quite
fi gure out why. The script mixes funny, touching, realistic, heartstring-tugging, clichéd,
whimsical and absurd elements in a two-act package that wields irony as a blunt weapon
(language archivist George, played by Rex Young, speaks many language but can’t
communicate with his wife — get it?), though it often redeems itself through painfully,
awkwardly tender moments.
The plot centers on the yearnings of George, his wife Mary (Kate Mulligan, who’s
marvelous) and his besotted assistant Emma (Susannah Flood, whose gawky/cute
mannerisms work well here). Add a bit of the “our elders from faraway villages aren’t
perfect but impart wisdom to us” trope, as the last two speakers of Elloway (Richard Elmore
and Judith Delgado) fi nd meaning at the end of their lives and the life of their language,
then mix in a few set pieces in train stations, bakeries and language classes and let rise.
Delgado, a newcomer to the festival, stands out as the language teacher, though
the entire cast produces a surprisingly strong warmth, wringing it from their
characterizations rather than the script itself. Still, what with the occasional fl ight of
poetic fancy from George, a marvelous smell at just the right time (how did you cue
that, OSF?), jokes about the Dutch facility with languages and the palpable sadness
underlying every moment, The Language Archive offers a satisfying couple of hours in
the immediacy of the New Theatre. — Suzi Steffen
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DAVID COOPER
What Can’t Be Said, What Must Be Said
We still love the man who hates
everything. And why wouldn’t we,
when Moliere’s misanthrope says
everything we all wish we could?
To enjoy his cynicism with hipster
jokes replacing the 17th-century
rhyming couplets, you can see a
modern adaptation in the most
unlikely of theaters.
“It’s where you go to learn
how to think, not what to think,”
student Jonathan Manley says of
Gutenberg, a small, great books
liberal arts college perched at 18th
and University. The soul-warmingly
beautiful dining room of this tiny
college will be transformed March 3
into a theater, where a small cadre
of students and their professor
will turn The Misanthrope into a
modern pop opera.
Really?
Yes. And it rocks, literally. Set
in an independent recording studio,
the production transforms the
cynical Alceste into Alex, the last
remaining record producer with
integrity. He hates everything
about the music business with the
exception of music and CJ (Moliere
called her Célimène), an indie-
rock goddess with a penchant for
drawing male attention. Whereas
Moliere’s classic satirized the
French aristocracy, this production
is likely to hit closer to home.
Tim McIntosh, a local actor
and award-winning playwright,
moonlights as a professor at
Gutenberg. He was struck by
the timelessness of the 17th-
century play while teaching The
Misanthrope. Hearing the music
of his student, Jonathan Manley,
wafting down the narrow corridors
of Gutenberg’s dormitories,
McIntosh hatched a plan to work
with his students in modernizing
Moliere’s great play.
After ten months and countless
hours spent in their forum-like
rehearsal space, a theatrical
gem has taken shape. Energy,
intelligence and collaboration have
collided, creating a whirlwind of a
play.
P.R.; An Indie-Opera, served up
with a fabulous Gutenberg family
dinner, plays only three nights.
Grab your ticket while you can.
P.R.; An Indie-Opera runs at
Gutenberg College (1883 University
St.) March 3, 4 and 6. Tickets are
$5. Dinner is at 6:15 pm; the play
starts at 7. For tickets call 683-5141.
— Anna Grace
EUGENE WEEKLY MARCH 3, 2011 33