How do you avoid cheesy lines in praise of Faction of Fools’ current production of Titus Andronicus? Things like “Bloody good time!” or “Give those actors a hand.” Oh, why try? In this intentionally, violently silly production of what could justly be regarded as Shakespeare’s worst play, the mayhem and over-the-top shtick make far more sense than an attempt at a straightforward production. And, by the way, the play may not even be Shakespeare’s at all. There is a centuries-old, probably unresolvable, controversy about whether Shakespeare actually wrote the thing, or at least whether he may have had a forgettable collaborator. It’s an interesting question whether, absent its debatable connection to Shakespeare, anyone would bother looking at this early 1590s mess of a revenge tragedy outside the depths of university literature departments.

Well, Faction of Fools (FoF) might, because the script, full as it is of scheming, beheading, behanding, stabbing, strangling, spearing, and meat pie-baking, and rape, is perfect fodder for the troupe’s comedia-influenced, high-speed, slapstick, ironically knowing, approach to its material. The play uses an ensemble cast, with no preeminent lead, but the FoF production does have a star: stage blood. It’s everywhere. Sometimes it’s a fountain. Sometimes it shoots forth in rhythm, to musical accompaniment. Sometimes it lies on stage for a while, waiting for use by a character. Sometimes you just turn a faucet and there it is. The sanguinary permutations seem endless, and much credit goes to fight choreographer Casey Kaleba for the design and execution of the effects. If there were a Helen Hayes Award for blood, he’d be the front-runner.

Whether non-Shakespeare or semi-Shakespeare or simply bad Shakespeare, the play does not teem with fully realized characters an audience comes to care about, which makes it easier to accept their usually bloody demise. There is one major exception, Lavinia, the daughter of Titus, who is raped, then has her tongue pulled out and her hands cut off to keep her silent. The role is played by Miranda Medugno, a Galludet theater graduate who signs the lines she has before she is mutilated. (The perpetrators have a chilling moment where their realization that she communicates by signing motivates them to remove her hands.) After the graphic horror of the attack on her, she becomes a rather still, almost stoic figure, most notably in a scene where three other characters loudly wail and wallow in bathos on seeing her condition, while she remains seemingly unmoved.

In this style, and given the absence of memorable language in the script, verbal nuance is not a priority. For the most part, actors declaim their lines loudly and rather melodramatically. Titus (Nello DeBlasio) is a prime example of this tendency, which could be fatal to a portrayal in a “straight” production of this or any play but which does not make much difference here. There’s one nice exception to this trend, when Marcus (Toby Mulford) quietly and tenderly helps Lavinia offstage after she is attacked.

Nor is the play itself, or the FoF style in performing it, a place to look for subtle shadings of character. Take the two villains, Tamora (Christina Marie Frank) and Aaron (Manu Kumasi). Tamora is the deadliest of femme fatales, waving her arms about, blatantly exercising her feminine wiles to the hilt, and scheming to hurt her enemy Titus by any means available, the crueler the better. Aaron, Tamora’s servant and lover, simply enjoys his villainy — seldom has evil been so cheerful, as when he notes that he has made his mistress his mistress. Kumasi moves extremely well, making his evil graceful as well as cheerful. Megduno’s Lavinia aside, this pair of malefactors make the most pronounced individual impressions of any of the cast’s members.

There is also an interesting racial angle to the villains’ relationship. While the moral makeup of the characters could not be more different, Aaron, like Othello, is a “Moor” (i.e., is black), while Tamora, like Desdemona, is white. Together, they produce a mixed-race baby (the doll representing the baby is outfitted with its own miniature mask), which quite scandalizes the ancient Rome seen through 16th-century British eyes. Unlike many a production of Othello, the FoF production does not seek interesting ways of exploring the contemporary resonance of this portion of the script, seemingly being content to take this aspect of the play at face value.

The production’s hallmark is choreographed comic movement. Director Matthew R. Wilson and Kaleba keep the cast in nearly constant, sometimes frenetic, motion, with one sight gag after another, even when the blood is not flowing. The cast is strongly committed to the style, and they carry it out with verve and precision.

There is a serious point behind all the lunacy, and that point is also made visually. Ethan Sinnott’s set and Denise Umland’s costumes are white, as are the actors’ comedia makeup and Aaron Cromie’s well-executed masks. As the production proceeds, everything white becomes covered — saturated is not too strong a term — with the free-flowing gore, as the production displays the craziness of unrestrained violence to the audience in vivid red-on-white. Director Wilson’s program note underlines the point, when he says “There is nothing funny about murder or rape but there is something absurd about the culture of violence and patriarchy that produces these atrocities.”

FoF turns a problematic script into a stylistic and darkly funny triumph. Far be it from a critic to skewer the company’s efforts.

(Editor’s Note: Due to a scheduling mixup, ShowBizRadio sent two reviewers to cover this production. See David Siegel’s review for another view of the show.)

Director’s Notes

I have always been fascinated by the aesthetic of violence. Conflict, collision, and combat — although sources of pain — can also bring moments of beauty. Consider the virtuosity of the martial artist, the elegant sheen of a blood spatter, or even the breathtaking splendor of an exploding supernova.
 
For this bloody play, all the world’s a canvas, and we witness, not only acts of violence, but their aftermath as well. Our Rome is a pristine, gleaming empire that inflicts brutality on other cultures while maintaining a capital city that is sanitary, safe, and spotless. All that changes when Titus returns triumphant and the bloodstains start to accumulate.
 
The bloodshed in Titus is senseless; it is spectacular; and, yes, sometimes it is downright silly. But Shakespeare and his contemporaries already knew that.
 
During the Renaissance, Seneca’s grisly Roman tragedies came back into vogue, and Commedia dell’Arte players presented their own violent delights as part of their repertoire of traveling plays. These “tragic” Commedia pieces were known under the genre of opera reggia, the “royal works” featuring nobles behaving badly — very badly indeed…

Shakespeare knew of this genre both from Seneca’s classical writings and from the contemporary performances of itinerant Italian players. He clearly had these in mind when penning Titus Andronicus, his own contribution to the genre of Renaissance horror story. The play is not meant to be a joke, but it is too absurd to stomach as a straight drama. It is the sixteenth-century’s version of Saw or Hostel.
 
In our darkly comic adaptation, something wicked becomes something wickedly delightful. We see the senselessness of violence — whether in warfare, sibling rivalries, or revenge — and we see the egocentric callousness with which people ignore survivors because they are too consumed with their own grief. There is nothing funny about murder or rape, but there is something absurd about the culture of violence and patriarchy that produces these atrocities. If we laugh at perpetuators of violence, it is only because we know that they don’t deserve to be taken seriously. Or maybe it is because, as Titus says, we “have no tears left to shed.”

Photo Gallery

Nello DeBlasio (Titus), Matthew Pauli (Lucius), Miranda Medugno (Lavinia), Toby Mulford (Marcus)	Matthew Pauli (Lucius), Miranda Medugno (Lavinia), Toby Mulford (Marcus)
Nello DeBlasio (Titus), Miranda Medugno (Lavinia)	Toby Mulford (Marcus), Miranda Medugno (Lavinia), Nello DeBlasio (Titus)

Photos by Teresa Wood

Cast

• Titus Andronicus: Nello DeBlasio
• Demetrius: Charlie Ainsworth
• Bassianus/Publius/Goth Soldier/Quintus: Chema Pineda-Fernandez
• Young Lucius/Mutius/Nurse/Aemilius: Cori Dioquino
• Saturninus: Daniel Flint
• Tamora: Christina Marie Frank
• Chiron/Martius: Tyler Herman
• Aaron: Manu Kumasi
• Lavinia: Miranda Medugno
• Marcus Andronicus/Alarbus: Toby Mulford
• Lucius: Matthew Pauli

Artistic and Design Team

• Written by William Shakespeare
• Adapted and Directed and Co-Choreographer: Matthew R. Wilson
• Production Manager/Stage Manager: Sarah Conte
• Scenic Design: Ethan Sinnott
• Costume Design: Denise Umland
• Lighting Design: Michael Barnett
• Sound Design & Music Composition: Thomas Sowers
• Fight Direction: Casey Kaleba & Matthew R. Wilson
• Co-Choreographer and Blood Effects: Casey Kaleba
• Properties Design & Assistant Blood Effects: Kristen Pilgrim
• Mask Designer and Fabricator: Aaron Cromie
• Assistant Stage Manager: Kathryn Dooley
• Assistant Director: Rachel Spicknall Mulford
• Dramaturg: Natalie Tenner
• ASL Consultant/Interpreter: Dr. Lindsey D. Snyder

Disclaimer: Faction of Fools provided a complimentary media ticket to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Shakespeare certainly knew how to make an audience squirm. “Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head” says Aaron, a key figure in Shakespeare’s rarely produced Titus Andronicus that just opened in DC.

But, this production is by the scrappy Faction of Fools theater company with a go-for-broke, unmuted “commedia dell’ arte” vision. For those not familiar with the Faction of Fools, it is the 2012 Helen Hayes Recipient of the John Aniello Award for Outstanding Emerging Theatre Company in the DC area.

Titus Andronicus is one of Shakespeare’s most chilling, violent, quite unsubtle bloody tales full of honor killings, revenge killings, infanticide, and any number of chopped-off limbs and dismemberments. Nothing much comic in that.

What is the storyline? Titus Andronicus is a fictional Roman general who returns from a decade of war with most of his sons dead on the battlefield. In his victories for the Roman Empire, he has captured Tamora, Queen of the Goths, her three sons as well as Tamora’s lover, Aaron the Moor.

From this start, the blood-fest moves forward with the characters seeking vengeance, advantage and survival to the point of self-mutilation. “If there were reason for these miseries, then into limits could I bind my woes” says Titus after much carnage.

Titus is an operatic play that spins and twists into a bloody cyclone of madness not unlike epic movies with a Vietnam War era mentality such as the “Godfather I & II” or “Apocalypse Now.” Few are left standing as the tragic goings-on finally end. Ah, but his is a Faction of Fools production.

Adapted and staged by Matthew R. Wilson, the Faction of Fools has respected the play’s grisly bones but added a veneer of comic touches to coat the bones and make them a bit more palatable. Wilson and his troupe have not made Titus into a Mel Brooks farce, or a late night comedy act but used their special brand of masked antics, tongue-in-cheek mannerisms and speech along with plenty of double-entendre laden physical movements touches, sitting right along-side the eviscerations. It is as if there is the written text with theatrical components filtering and shifting the words into new meanings.

The Titus set design by Ethan Sinnott is a constructed imperial city that fills the stage at the Elstad Annex at Gallaudet University. There are multi-level play areas, doorways for entrances and exits along with several trap doors and well-positioned windows. It is painted a luminous pure white made even brighter by the white-hot lights from Michael Barnett. Over the course of the performance the pure white becomes a crimson red abstract expressionist canvas of blood splotches, splatters and swirls courtesy of designer Casey Kaleba.

Costume designer Denise Umland has the cast outfitted in white as well, which also takes on a crimson hue. Apropos of “commedia dell’arte,” the actors wear hand-crafted, half masks also in white fabricated by Aaron Cromie. Props are a perverse amusement done up to gratify the most fervent Grand Guignol fane. There is such creativity in the exaggerated manner of showing amputated limbs and other body parts and flowing blood that is sophisticated and cartoonish, and perhaps not for everyone. I will not look at a spigot or a dark quiet pool quite the same again.

Actors who make strong impressions include Miranda Medugno as Lavina, the ultimate victim, who loses hands and tongue after she is raped. Medugno, who is pursuing a Master’s degree in Sign Language Education, brings her “silenced” character into dramatic light and intensity. She draws us to her with her entire being. She is the moral, non-comic center of Titus.

As Tamara, Queen of the Goths, Christina Marie Frank vamps her way through the proceedings. She is physically impish and cunning. Her words, both straight and humorous, are darts that sting all in good fun, well as best fun as can be given her nasty character.

Aaron The Moor is played by Manu Kumasi with a vigorous strut and fire in his eyes. He even gives off a subtext as to why he is so villainous. Nello DeBlasio’s Titus is a madman who loudly whines for attention. DeBlasio plays his Titus as someone on speed with Munchausen by proxy syndrome. Other male characters also have a too-rushed approach to their deliveries. Demetrius (Charlie Ainsworth) and Chiron (Tyler Herman) deserve note for their manner of accomplishing dastardly deeds using both spoken words and ASL in a helter-skelter duet.

Faction of Fools marketing material notes, “Faction’s fifth season ends with a shriek, as we bring you the funniest version yet of Shakespeare’s bloodiest play. In the Fools’ darkly comic take, something wicked becomes something wickedly delightful.” Well, I would not go that far.

Your reviewer marvels at what Wilson and the Fools have accomplished with their audacious take of rushing rivers of blood and carnage. It is up to you and your own gimlet eye whether to buckle up and take this Titus in. It will challenge you to find your pathway past lines such as: “Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?… Ay, that I had not done a thousand more” to find and appreciate the comic touches. It is all a matter of one’s tastes.

I guess humor can be found even in Marlon Brando’s last line in “Apocalypse Now,” “The horror, the horror.”

NOTE: No late seating. Appropriate for ages 13 and up. Select performances ASL Interpreted. Open Captioning available upon request.

(Editor’s Note: Due to a scheduling mixup, ShowBizRadio sent two reviewers to cover this production. See Bob Ashby’s review for another view of the show.)

Director’s Notes

I have always been fascinated by the aesthetic of violence. Conflict, collision, and combat — although sources of pain — can also bring moments of beauty. Consider the virtuosity of the martial artist, the elegant sheen of a blood spatter, or even the breathtaking splendor of an exploding supernova.

For this bloody play, all the world’s a canvas, and we witness, not only acts of violence, but their aftermath as well. Our Rome is a pristine, gleaming empire that inflicts brutality on other cultures while maintaining a capital city that is sanitary, safe, and spotless. All that changes when Titus returns triumphant and the bloodstains start to accumulate.

The bloodshed in Titus is senseless; it is spectacular; and, yes, sometimes it is downright silly. But Shakespeare and his contemporaries already knew that.

During the Renaissance, Seneca’s grisly Roman tragedies came back into vogue, and Commedia dell’Arte players presented their own violent delights as part of their repertoire of traveling plays. These “tragic” Commedia pieces were known under the genre of opera reggia, the “royal works” featuring nobles behaving badly — very badly indeed…

Shakespeare knew of this genre both from Seneca’s classical writings and from the contemporary performances of itinerant Italian players. He clearly had these in mind when penning Titus Andronicus, his own contribution to the genre of Renaissance horror story. The play is not meant to be a joke, but it is too absurd to stomach as a straight drama. It is the sixteenth-century’s version of Saw or Hostel.

In our darkly comic adaptation, something wicked becomes something wickedly delightful. We see the senselessness of violence — whether in warfare, sibling rivalries, or revenge — and we see the egocentric callousness with which people ignore survivors because they are too consumed with their own grief. There is nothing funny about murder or rape, but there is something absurd about the culture of violence and patriarchy that produces these atrocities. If we laugh at perpetuators of violence, it is only because we know that they don’t deserve to be taken seriously. Or maybe it is because, as Titus says, we “have no tears left to shed.”

Photo Gallery

Nello DeBlasio (Titus), Matthew Pauli (Lucius), Miranda Medugno (Lavinia), Toby Mulford (Marcus)	Matthew Pauli (Lucius), Miranda Medugno (Lavinia), Toby Mulford (Marcus)
Nello DeBlasio (Titus), Miranda Medugno (Lavinia)	Toby Mulford (Marcus), Miranda Medugno (Lavinia), Nello DeBlasio (Titus)

Photos by Teresa Wood

Cast

• Titus Andronicus: Nello DeBlasio
• Demetrius: Charlie Ainsworth
• Bassianus/Publius/Goth Soldier/Quintus: Chema Pineda-Fernandez
• Young Lucius/Mutius/Nurse/Aemilius: Cori Dioquino
• Saturninus: Daniel Flint
• Tamora: Christina Marie Frank
• Chiron/Martius: Tyler Herman
• Aaron: Manu Kumasi
• Lavinia: Miranda Medugno
• Marcus Andronicus/Alarbus: Toby Mulford
• Lucius: Matthew Pauli

Artistic and Design Team

• Written by William Shakespeare
• Adapted and Directed and Co-Choreographer: Matthew R. Wilson
• Production Manager/Stage Manager: Sarah Conte
• Scenic Design: Ethan Sinnott
• Costume Design: Denise Umland
• Lighting Design: Michael Barnett
• Sound Design & Music Composition: Thomas Sowers
• Fight Direction: Casey Kaleba & Matthew R. Wilson
• Co-Choreographer and Blood Effects: Casey Kaleba
• Properties Design & Assistant Blood Effects: Kristen Pilgrim
• Mask Designer and Fabricator: Aaron Cromie
• Assistant Stage Manager: Kathryn Dooley
• Assistant Director: Rachel Spicknall Mulford
• Dramaturg: Natalie Tenner
• ASL Consultant/Interpreter: Dr. Lindsey D. Snyder

Disclaimer: Faction of Fools provided a complimentary media ticket to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Faction of Fools, the city’s leading Commedia dell’Arte theatre troupe, seeks to embrace the Italian tradition’s nuances and themes, all the while progressing towards a more innovative and accessible experience. The company concludes its fourth season with their enthusiastic production, The Lady Becomes Him. The play is ripe with vaudeville gags, slapstick, and the offhand popular culture reference. However, while the piece is filled with eager and selfless actors who clearly enjoy their work, unresolved and often times confusing chaos dominates the stage.

The play follows several love triangles. Orazio (played by Stephen Hock) loves Celia (Lindsey D. Snyder), but her husband Il Dottore (Matthew Pauli) forbids the affair. A foreign noblewoman, Isabella (Amelia Hensley) also loves Orazio, but is pursued by another foreigner, Luzio (James McGowan). Isabella rejects Luzio’s advances, confident that Orazio loves her. Meanwhile, Orazio’s servant, Coviello (Jesse Terrill), loves Isabella’s maid, Rosetta (Rachel Spicknall Mulford), who cannot choose between Coviello and Pulcinella (John Bellomo), Il Doterre’s servant. Orazio and Coviello devise a plot make Celia and Pulcinella switch bodies (using, of course, a set of magic rings), which will give Orazio a chance to woo and run away with Celia. Naturally, shenanigans ensues.

This play marks Toby Mulford’s DC directorial debut. He is a graduate of the dell’Arte International School of Physical Theatre and a Faction veteran. Mulford, together with assistant director, Tyler Herman, adapted The Lady Becomes Him from a seventeenth-century plot outline titled Donna Zanni. This outline includes the classic tropes of infidelity, overlapping love triangles, disguises, and magic. Because the adaptation is based on an outline, certain moments in the play’s action become stagnant, forcing the actors to fill the gaps with improvised vaudevillian schtick: some gags work brilliantly, while others warrant only a chuckle. Some jokes, however, were flat to begin with, growing more tedious with each unnecessary repetition. The play’s comedic moments are most successful when they happen spontaneously and without warning. The conjuring of a spirit (known as the “Ringalungen”) and the company breaking into a composed sing-a-long become the highlights of the production solely because they were so unexpected.

The company displayed competency in the major components of the Commedia tradition: improvisation, exaggerated physicality, and comedic monomania. Pauli — aided by his ever-faithful stuffed companion, Dotteddy — is the ideal Commedia performer; his physical presence and fiery temperament made him the perfect candidate for the jealous nobleman. Hock’s performance was flawlessly timed as he minced across the stage, playing the part of the love-struck Orazio. Rachel Spicknall Mulford — who played both Rosetta and the “Ringalungen” — was particularly impressive. Her timing and improvisational skills left the audience roaring with laughter in most instances. Hensley and McGowan were perhaps the most successful in conveying the kind of physicality that the Commedia tradition requires. Armed with extravagant gestures, the pair never missed a beat and proved themselves proficient in slapstick.

While the actors should be applauded for their unbridled enthusiasm, I would argue that the physical comedy was rather chaotic. Very often did the actors run and roll around the stage without purpose or precision, making it seem like they were pandering more for a particular reaction from the audience, instead of authentically playing the comedic bits.

The theatre company is notable for incorporating the deaf and hard of hearing, as Faction works heavily with the Theatre Arts department at Gallaudet University. Perhaps the most innovative aspect of this production was the creative use of the theatre’s caption board which, when it wasn’t providing visual accompaniment to the spoken and signed dialogue, became a fully integrated and saucy addition to the cast.

In many ways, the production’s technical elements served their purposes without fail. Daniel Flint’s scenic design aptly captures the scenery of 17th-century Naples. I would, however, have liked to see the period-appropriate laundry hanging from the clothes lines used as a comedic device. In the opening scene, Pauli uses a pair of bloomers to disguise himself, seamlessly using the set pieces to enhance the gag. Chris Holland’s lighting design simultaneously added touches of naturalism and cheeky theatricality to the production. Lynly Saunders’ costume design smartly differentiated between social status and stock characters, while Aaron Cromie’s mask designs honored the Commedia tradition with acute perfection.

Faction of Fools’ production of The Lady Becomes Him is an enjoyable frolic through 17th-century Naples, peopled by a group of fun-loving actors. What the production lacks in physical precision and witty banter, it makes up in unbridled enthusiasm and exuberance.

Director’s Notes

This is a play about love, and the messes we get ourselves into because of it. This is not a new theme.

The Lady Becomes Her is a Frankenstein’s monster of a play. The skeleton is taken from a three-page document entitled Donna Zanni, from the Casamarciano Scenarios, one of only a few existing collections of plot outlines from the 17th century Commedia dell’Arte. The flesh and blood were created collaboratively by the actors and designers, mixing and matching oddly-shaped parts in a frenzy of experimentation. Tyler Herman and I have supplied the rawhide sutures to stitch it all together. The breath of life comes from you, the audience. And whether the resulting play stumbles about grunting and breaking lab equipment, or grabs a top hat and shuffles off to Buffalo, the hope is that it will at least be entertaining.

I believe that this haphazard form of playmaking is a perfect mirror for the haphazard nature of love. While we may do homage to love with sonnets and sonatas, the reality tends to be a bit more clownish, complete with pratfalls, comical stuttering, and the odd squirting flower.

Love and slapstick are both about people getting hurt, but not dying of it. Your heart gets broken, your bottom gets paddled, and you pick yourself back up and go on. This principle is what fuels Commedia: if the young lovers get together in the end, the world can go on spinning, no matter what kind of mayhem we all had to go through to make it happen. At the end of the play, we get to bask in the fulfillment of their love for a moment, before something goes wrong and we’re plunged again into chaos. Further comedy ensues. Life lurches misshapenly on. We hope at least that it is entertaining.

Photo Gallery

Matthew Pauli, Rachel Spicknall Mulford and Amelia Hensley	Stephen Hock, John V. Bellomo, Rachel Spicknall Mulford, Lindsey D. Snyder and Matthew Pauli
Rachel Spicknall Mulford and Amelia Hensley	Rachel Spicknall Mulford, Amelia Hensley, Matthew Pauli, Lindsey D. Snyder, James McGowan, Stephen Hock and John V. Bellomo
Matthew Pauli

Photos by Second Glance Photography

Cast

• Il Dotorre, a powerful man: Matthew Pauli
• Celia, his wife: Lindsey D. Snyder
• Pulcinella, their servant: John V. Bellomo
• Orazio, in love with Celia: Stephen Hock
• Coviello, his servant: Jesse Terrill
• Isabella, in love with Orazio: Amelia Hensley
• Rosetta, her servant: Rachel Spicknall Mulford
• Luzio, in love with Isabella: James McGowan
• The Sorcerer: Amelia Hensley
• The Spirit: Rachel Spicknall Mulford

Artistic Team

• Artistic Director: Matthew R. Wilson
• Production Manager: Sarah Conte
• Director, Managing Director: Toby Mulford
• Assistant Director: Tyler Herman
• Stage Manager: Alice Maglessen
• Assistant Stage Manager: Kathryn Dooley
• Scenic Designer: Daniel Flint
• Lighting Designer: Chris Holland
• Props Designer: Kristen Pilgrem
• Mask Design and Fabrication: Aaron Cromie
• Costume Design: Lynly A. Saunders

Disclaimer: Faction of Fools provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Quel mondo hilarious!! Faction of Fools has figured out that there is no love without cheese, cut or otherwise and presents a series of comic scenes where the comic love is as tasty as the cheeses it references.

The Fools perform in the Commedia dell’Arte tradition of masks, quirky movement, physical comedy and stock characters. The company was this past year’s Helen Hayes Award recipient for Outstanding Emerging Theatre Company.

We saw four of seven possible scenes presented for our delectation on this evening and not a one disappointed. The scenes included deaf actors working in American Sign Language and ASL interpreters for the deaf members of the audience. The show culminates with a wedding. I’m not saying any more; go see this show.

Each and every actor is sublime in movement, characterization and delivery. The company has cleverly created seven scenes, only four of which are presented so that the show must be seen several times to catch all of the scenes. I’m hooked and I’m going back for more. I suggest everyone do the same.

Cast

• Antonio: Charlie Ainsworth
• Colombina: Allison S. Galen
• Signora Provolone: Vanessa Hope
• Rianna: Cristen Kennedy
• Signora Gratiana: Amy Thompson
• Smeraldina: Anna K. Treichler
• Capitano: John Bellomo
• Ella: Chantal Martineau
• Flavio: Danny CAckley
• Luvio: James McGowan
• Capitano: Charlie Ainsworth
• Lilia: Sabahat Chaudhary
• Reynalda: Julie Garner
• Zanni: Theodore Snead
• La Ruffiana: Deidra LaWan Starnes
• Smeraldina: Eva Wilhelm
• Gianni: Steve Attix
• Leandro: Steve N. Bradford:
• Lucianna: Gwen Grastorf
• Pantalone: Matthew Paul
• Dottore: Paul Reisman
• Gianna: Lindsey D. Snyder

Directors

• Paul Reisman
• Tyler Herman
• Lindsey D. Snyder
• Toby Mulford

Disclaimer: Capital Fringe provided one complimentary media ticket to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Breathless Reader, Indulge please, a hapless reviewer. Have you ever read Wit? This is a play about an overly critical, demanding and nasty female English Lit. professor who is being done in by her chaste treasure. Something is really rotten in that state. As she lay dying…for hours… she recalls the apocryphal moment driving the anger of her stupid life. She was downgraded by her professor for faulty argumentation over comma placement in some Shakespearean tragedy and she has never, in all of the intervening years, recovered from that humiliation. Your malingering reviewer has only read this play. However, if she is to subject herself to actually seeing this cringe inducing work performed, it would have to be presented by Faction of Fools. This irreverent little band of merry mechanicals just won the Helen Hayes 2012 John Aniello Award for Outstanding Emerging Theatre. For us lowbrows…that means that these little rascals are the best new thing seen by the establishment this past year.

Your reviewer left the theatre in a twist. I really did….as I was retiring for the night I realized that my drawers were on backwards. Having rectified that situation I was still twisted. What disquiet doth plague the ardor of a fishwife who be defeated by any subject not teaching biologics, rock and roll and the other thing? Her sweet slumber broken by her agitation over a word….one word, she awakes…Lydian measures in her head. She cavorts around her Hoarders bed chamber clinging to the love of her life…all five pounds of him. He shlurps her fine lined, aging Baby Boomer’s face as she bombinates Scott Joplin tunes…but soft….the word! SYNCOPATION.

Our genuinely gifted faction of lovely fools have rearranged the Bard. Having established the inferior intellect of your brainless reviewer, you reader, have to trust in her promise that pretty much every word uttered by our Faction of Fools was authentic Shakespeare arranged and recited in syncopated meter thereby transforming tragedy into comedy without changing anything. Think Duke Ellington’s arrangement of The Nutcracker Suite as opposed to Igor Stravinsky’s arrangement of The Star Spangled Banner.

At first glance, the set (Set Designer Ethan Sinnott) is some eerie concept derived from a Fritz Lang film. The lighting (Lighting Designer Andrew F. Griffin) supports that initial impression until the music (Composer and Adapter Jerry Terrill) starts and the dissonance develops. Elsinore is not reconfigured as German silent film Expressionism but as the sinking Titanic fatally listing in the ocean minutes before the lights go out forever. Music from that Gilded Age plays and amid the splendid and classic popular music play the catchy and addicting Scott Joplin Rag Time compositions….the punch line to the joke that turns Hamlet into Hamlecchino. The costumes (Denise Umland) are Rag Time and Gilded Age creations reminiscent of …well…the Titanic and its various social classes occupying that maritime social tragedy that leaves as many dead in real life as in Hamlet in drama. Everyone dies in Hamlecchino but then they all get up and the audience laughs and applauds.

The characters are all cleverly masked (Mask Designer Aaron Cromie) in the style of the company’s Commedia dell’Arte approach to theatre. The syncopated meter of the verse is supported by choreography and movement (Director and Choreographer Matthew R. Wilson) that belie the tragedy of fratricide (Claudius played by Billy Finn) and usurpation of throne and a fatherless son’s (Matthew R. Wilson) attempts at revenge as he tortures himself over a beloved, but unfaithful floozy of a mother (Eva Wilhelm); never mind the wacky girlfriend (Emma Crane Jaster). T’is why we laugh and we plotz. Though Hamlet, himself is still a downer.

The acting is superb. These are exacting performers who move and mime and sign (American Sign Language) with impeccable physicality and timing. The venue being Gallaudet University, “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are deaf.” The Player (David Gaines) is a rubbery mechanical enacting comic movement in silence and telling an incriminating story of murder in order to avenge the restless soul of a murdered King (David Gaines in a Pierrot costume and chef’s toque). Polonius (Toby Mulford costumed as the Gate Keeper of the Emerald City of Oz) serves up wise counsel to poor, tormented Hamlecchino. Polonius’ tragic demise is, fortunately for us, a barrel of laughs.

Ophelia’s (Emma Crane Jaster) suicide by drowning is the most lovely and lyrical element of the show. We should all die this way; it was so pretty. Jaster’s suppleness of muscle and flexibility of skeleton gave credence to Ophelia’s fragility of psyche. Yet she was as funny as anyone there as she insanely pranced around the stage in a straitjacket. And she can sing too.

The ensemble of Danish and Norwegian soldiers were dressed as World War I trench warriors in gas masks with bayonets still attached to contemporaneous rifles. Swordplay was cunningly and comically choreographed (Matthew R. Wilson) with inspiration from the Greco Brothers and The Three Stooges.

And finally, Horatio, Hamlet’s faithful man and valet. When a girl (Rachel Spicknall) plays Horatio the same dialog takes on a whole new meaning and our poor Horatio suffers the unrequited crush of Hamlecchino.

Hamlecchino is more than appropriate for younger students; it is required. Faction of Fools questions sophistry while venerating Shakespeare even as they serve him up medium rare. Consider this review another recommendation from your girl around town.

A note to my readers: At the end of the reviewed performance, our talented actors and crew had a collection for an organization called Taking Care of…something or other….twisty drawers, remember?….a fund raising organization incorporated to help struggling theatre companies in the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area. I gave a token contribution. I hope that anyone hearing such an entreaty toss some coin or maybe a ducat or two into the yellow bucket to keep our collective stages glowing with light and music and characters.

Geniecchino Baskir

Director’s Notes

Shakespeare’s Hamlet, like all classical tragedies, concerns the lives of great men and women-people better than the rest of us. But what if they weren’t? What if they were families like ours? Worse than ours even? What if they were grotesques from Commedia del’Arte?

In fact, Shakespeare’s Hamlet borrows several gags from the Italian Commedia: a know-it-all advisor, plots in which conniving men hide behind arrases to spy on the affairs of others, and a “mad” routine in which the lead actress has a pretext for showing off her skills of singing, dancing and bawdry that would otherwise be out of character.

Hamlet, nevertheless, is mostly inspired by a genre known as “Revenge Tragedy,” in which a wronged hero launches a vendetta that ends with a pile of corpses. Shakespeare’s unlikely Revenger, however, laments rather than relishes his role. Hamlet’s revenge is complicated by philosophical doubts concerning the nature of evidence, fears about harming the innocent, grief that literally “haunts” him, and existential musings on mortality. Hamlet knows that real-life revenge is not as simple as what we see in plays….

For the unlikely Revenger of Hamlet, we have found inspiration in the zany Commedia dell’Arte character named “Arlecchino” (pronounced AR-lu-Kee-no), a low status servant whose simplemindedness makes him the butt of most jokes. But, through wiles and happy accidents, he finds himself vindicated in the end, Our “Hamlet-chino” is miscast as a Revenger. He ends up stuck in a role that does not suit him. He does not know whom to trust, how to proceed, or what the point of it all is. O, cursed spite, that ever he was born to set things right!

Hamlecchino knows that something is rotten in the state of Denmark. But many things are funny, too. Part of Shakespeare’s poignancy-be it poetic or philosophical or tragic- is that he retains a sense of humor. Sometimes you have to laugh, or you’ll cry. Revenge….is a dish best served comically!

Matthew R. Wilson, Founding Artistic Director

Photo Gallery

Emma Crane Jaster, Toby Mulford and John V. Bellomo	Matthew R. Wilson and David Gaines
Matthew R. Wilson as Hamlecchino	Billy Finn, John V. Bellomo, Emma Crane Jaster, Eva Wilhelm, Matthew R. Wilson, and Rachel Spicknall
Rachel Spicknall and Matthew R. Wilson

Photos by C. Stanley Photography

Cast

• Hamlet: Matthew R. Wilson
• Claudius: Billy Finn
• Gertrude: Eva Wilhelm
• Laertes/ Francisco: John V. Bellomo
• Guildenstern/Norwegian Captain/Dane: Marianna Devenow
• Ghost/Player/Gravedigger 1/Norwegian: David Gaines
• Rosencrantz/Fortinbras/Dane: Amelia Hensley
• Ophelia/Bernardo/Norwegian: Emma Crane Jaster
• Polonius/Gravedigger 2/Norwegian: Toby Mulford
• Marcellus/Osric/Priest: Justin Purvis
• Horatio: Rachel Spicknall

Crew

• Director & Choreographer: Matthew R. Wilson
• Assistant Director: Toby Mulford
• Set Designer: Ethan Sinnott
• Lighting Designer: Andrew F. Griffin
• Costume Designer: Denise Umland
• Properties Designer: Sarah Conte
• Sound Designer: Mehdi Raoufi
• Composer: Jesse Terrill
• Mask Designer: Aaron Cromie
• Production Stage Manager: Elizabeth Stone
• Assistant Stage Manager: Kathryn Dooley

Disclaimer: Faction of Fools provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.

Faction of Fools sets out to starkly contrast comedy and tragedy in their Commedia dell’Arte production of A Commedia Romeo and Juliet–not without some success. dell’Arte (an improvised form of theatre with origins in fifteenth-century Italy) is full of stock characters and silly, repetitive hijinx, or lazzi. It is also a form that has had much influence on the development of comedy through the years. Paul Reisman and Matthew R. Wilson shear off quite a bit of the original canonical five-act tragedy, yet keep the original text and all the most important and beloved scenes.

This five-member, multiple-role cast has a great ensemble feeling. Most also do a nice job of differentiating major characters so we can follow them through the numerous on-stage quick changes; however, more precise use of the traditional stock character physicality would have helped to further clean up the character switches. The main characters are solid. Toby Mulford, in particular, was incredibly successful in playing the foppish Paris, as well as the role of the Nurse in drag. Juliet (Gwen Grastorf) is the weakest player, with an overly-breathy shtick that misses the mark set by her Romeo (Drew Kopas) counterpart.

Director Matthew R. Wilson tackles a lot in a short span of time. There are times when the modern line interpretation and Commedia style work very well; for example, the first Montague/Capulet brawl and thumb-biting scene. For that matter, the entire play up until the death of Tybalt works quite well, conceptually. However, the tragedy that follows only works in an alienating way when interspersed with lazzi antics. The depth and gravity is missed the minute Friar Laurence steps on Paris’ body in the tomb.

Scenic and props designer Daniel Flint’s singular set piece, an ever-transformative steamer trunk, is good–in theory. The idea of a sort-of Pandora’s Box that can quickly and easily provide set and props is interesting, certainly, and the trunk acknowledges the travelling nature of Commedia in history. The trunk is rigged in such a way that it can open and separate into sections, thus revealing hidden scenic painting and various props. However, within ten to fifteen minutes, the cast struggles with the mechanics of it all. Luckily, the otherwise adept cast made these repeated snafus into a recurring lazzi throughout. If this was the intent, it is the most clever lazzi and well-played “happy accident” I have seen.

Lynly A. Saunders’ costumes are simple and practical: “Base” costumes are given to each actor, with quickly-reversible and changeable tunics and skirts. Aaron Cromie’s traditional masks prove particularly interesting during the Capulet’s masquerade, as some characters are wearing their character masks in addition to their party masks. I am sure there is something thematic–or, more immediately–funny about this.

The lighting design (Sarah Tundermann) is successful overall. While some elements seem superfluous, there are very nice instances of light focused on particular moments that heighten the sense of tragedy. Thomas Sowers’ sound design also seems a little unnecessary, perhaps because many of the bytes are so brief that they do not become established and, in fact, interrupt scenes more than they contribute to them.

While this production is not exactly a perfect marriage (pun intended), I think Faction of Fools is on to something here. Despite its flaws, a lot of this show worked very well and gave some insight on Shakespeare’s influences. My hope is that Faction of Fools’ upcoming production of Hamlecchino, Clown Prince of Denmark further explores the juxtaposition of comedy and tragedy within a Shakespearean context.

Director’s Note

It is no accident that Shakespeare’s R&J is set in Italy–in fair Verona where family rivalries bring a tragic end to ideal love. Tales of thwarted love were the mainstay of Commedia dell’Arte players whose touring shows arrived in London by the end of the 1560s. Shakespeare knew their styles, their characters, and their conventions. And, as all good artists do, he borrowed liberally from their material in crafting his own work. Hence, Lords Capulet and Montague are like il Dottore and Pantalone, the patriarchs of two houses whose disputes wreak havoc all over town. Their children are young Lovers (Inamorati in Commedia terms), and their bumbling servants borrow from the slapstick routines of Commedia’s Zanni. Meanwhile a host of Capitano-style braggarts (Tybalt, Mercutio, and Paris–boasters in three different veins) further complicate the plot with their bravado.

Comedy ends with a wedding. A traditional Commedia play begins in chaos but progresses to an orderly happy ending. Shakespeare knew this formula, and almost all of his comedies abide by it. Ultimately, love prevails, and marriage rites announce the play’s end! In R&J, however, the Bard has other plans. This couple gets married too soon, before the curtain is ready to fall, and their story continues past a promised happily-ever-after. In R&J, the comedy ends with a wedding. Then the tragedy begins. No sooner are vows sealed than bodies fall, and starry lovers find their destinies crossed.

Shakespeare’s audience would have recognized that this play is a comedy set on edge. The text is riddles with jokes and humorous excess; the characters are fantastical. Though we think of this play as “romantic” or “tragic,” Shakespeare wanted his audiences to laugh. Then, in the midst of laughter, the knife falls. Tragedy shows up when we least expect it, and the mournful tear is all the harsher because it has been matched with joy.

Our project is to emphasize the Commedia that first inspired Shakespeare to write his play. By bringing out the humor that pervades the original text, we believe that we are complementing tragedy, not competing with it. Shakespeare was smart enough to know that loss is all the sadder when it comes with laughter.

Matthew R. Wilson, Artistic Director

Photo Gallery

Drew Kopas and Toby Mulford	Toby Mulford, Paul Reisman, Eva Wilhelm, Gwen Grastorf and Drew Kopas
Gwen Grastorf, Eva Wilhelm, and Drew Kopas	Paul Reisman, Toby Mulford, Eva Wilhelm and Drew Kopas
Gwen Grastorf, Drew Kopas and Toby Mulford

Photos by Clinton Brandhagen

Cast

• Juliet, Prince, Lady Montague: Gwen Grastorf
• Romeo, Abraham, Montague: Drew Kopas
• Nurse, Paris, Sampson, Benvolio: Toby Mulford
• Mercutio, Capulet, Gregory, Friar John: Paul Reisman
• Tybalt, Lady Capulet, Friar Laurence: Eva Wilhelm

Artistic Team

• Director: Matthew R. Wilson
• Costume Designer: Lynly A. Saunders
• Scenic and Props Designer: Daniel Flint
• Lighting Designer: Sarah Tundermann
• Sound Designer: Thomas Sowers
• Composer: Jesse Terrill
• Mask Designer: Aaron Cromie
• Production Stage Manager: Miriam L. Yoder
• Assistant Stage Manager: Sarah Conte
• Co-Producer: Tyler Herman
• Co-Producer: Sarah Bartlett Wilson

Disclaimer: Faction of Fools Theatre Company provided two complimentary media tickets to ShowBizRadio for this review.