“THRUST A CORK INTO A HOG’S HEAD” THIS WINTER’S TALE IS DONE
Nothing helps Shakespeare go over for an outdoor crowd better than a well-timed pelvic thrust. Deliver Shakespeare’s lines. Thrust your pelvis. Receive thunderous applause from a grateful audience. As fans of the Bard will well know, Master Shaxbred was an ardent proponent of all manner ribaldry concerning genitalia, male or female. Some of his cleverest lines on the subject are now obscured in poetry too dense for a modern audience to parse. Hence, a well-thrust pelvis clears any ambiguities. During GreenStage’s Seattle Outdoor Theatre Festival in Capitol Hill’s Volunteer Park this past weekend, pelvises were thrust at every available opportunity.
Curious, then, that the greatest concentration of “Elvis hips” throughout the entire festival occurred in a play not typically known for its naughty humor, Wooden O Production’s “The Winter’s Tale”. In the play’s first act, Michael Pattern as the criminally foolish King Leontes utilizes his hips like a reciprocating saw, punctuating nearly every line from his center. He fears incorrectly that his wife Hermione is unfaithful. “My wife is slippery?” Pattern thrusts. “My wife’s a hobbyhorse;” Another thrust. This is the Mick Jagger school of Shakespearian acting. Since the subtext of nearly every line is probably sexual in nature, why not provide it with the appropriate exclamation point? Imagine: “To be”, cries Hamlet thrusting his pelvis, “or not to be. That is the question.” Thunderous applause.
One of the reasons “The Winter’s Tale” is seldom performed is the intransigent nature of its central character. It is the actor’s task to play against the misplaced anger and find the insecurity and deeply tragic remorse behind it. As the self-cuckolded Leontes, Pattern is all one note and that particular note soon wears out its welcome. His supporting cast, however, is excellent. Alyson Bedford as Hermione finds the right balance of spotless integrity and wit. Joel Meyers displays a talent that belies his young age as Leontes’ son, Mamilius. Nick Rempel projects loyalty and wisdom as Camillo. Therese Diekhans is a force of nature as the practical and resolved Paulina—though a scene in which she repeatedly pushes around the king, knocking him over with no reprecussion, strikes at sense. Once Hermione is accused and “dies” along with her son for shame, the play mercifully relocates to the lovely coast of Bohemia (which Shakespeare buffs will remember is a landlocked country) where Leontes’ brother Polixenes (Mike Dooly) reigns.
Here, Wooden O’s “Winter’s Tale” picks up speed again, due to its stellar cast. Jim Lapan and Mark Oram are fabulous as bumbling shepherds. David Quicksall nearly steals the show as the rogue Autolycus. He weaves his way throughout the crowd, opening picnic baskets and backpacks, searching for valuables. Brenda Joyner is a vision as Perdita, Leontes and Hermione’s erstwhile daughter. Also enjoyable is the live music provided throughout by Sean Patrick Taylor, and the folk dances complete with anti-masque choreographed by director Mary Machala. With Taylor’s expert accompaniment, one wonders why Machala chose to include Johanna Melamed’s overactive sound design. There is much for the outdoor Shakespeare crowd to enjoy, however, even if the play’s climactic resolution is marred by Pattern’s supposedly repentant Leontes. In this final moment, thankfully, there is not a thrust pelvis in sight.
THE WINTER’S TALE by William Shakespeare, directed by Mary Machala, Wooden O Productions, Seattle Shakespeare Company, July 21 & 22, Luther Burbank Park Amphitheatre 7pm. July 25 & 26, Lynndale Park Amphitheatre 7pm, July 28, Pine Lake Park 7pm. July 29, Seattle Center Fisher Pavilion 2pm. August 2, Issaquah Community Center Open Space 7pm. August 4, Ober Park 7pm. August 9, Luther Burbank Park Amphitheatre 7pm. August 10, Marina Park 7pm. August 11, Luther Burbank Park Amphitheatre 7pm. August 12, Luther Burbank Park Amphitheatre 2pm. Free. For more information, see: http://www.seattleshakespeare.org/WoodenO/index.asp