The Prenzie Players' Caesar, the company's truncated title for William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, has a playfulness about it, as director Tracy Skaggs reduces the Roman leader, played here by John Turner, to the role of celebrity. This consequently provides moments of humor and fun where there might otherwise be none, the highlight of which is J.C. Luxton's Antony grabbing patrons from out of the audience and stating "Caesar grants your wish - rise," before using his cell phone to snap pictures of the attendees with Caesar.
It doesn't take long for Cait Bodenbender, in the Prenzie Players' Lear, to prove that director/adapter J.C. Luxton's idea to reverse his characters' genders was a great one.
If there's anything at which the Prenzie Players excel - and the theatre group excels at quite a few things - it's the ability to convey the meaning of Shakespeare's words to those who may have trouble following the dialogue and, therefore, the plot. (I.e. me.) And that strength is all the more important in the Prenzies' current undertaking, Troilus & Cressida. While watching the opening-night performance, I rarely understood what exactly was going on by way of what was said. But thanks to the passion behind how it was said, I was neither bored nor disinterested.

If you diagrammed the experience of the Riverbend Theatre Collective's As Bees in Honey Drown, it would look something like a roller coaster: There'd be an extended incline followed by a precipitous drop, several more inclines each followed by lesser drops, a few twists, and an eventual return to your point of origin. And as with a roller coaster, you might find yourself having a terrific time during Bees' ride, even if your enjoyment wears off quickly, and a few of its shakier moments give you a headache.
I've seen three or four first-rate portrayals of Shakespeare's Othello over the years, and I always marvel at how both the character and the performer seem to literally grow in stature through the course of the play.
With King Henry the Fifth, the overall effect of the Prenzie Players' Henriad trilogy can be demonstrated in about five minutes of stage time. Shakespeare's titular ruler, played by Jeff De Leon, is invading the French province of Harfleur, and the scene begins with a literal explosion of sound - an edifice-shaking cannon boom, followed by the impassioned cries of the English and French soldiers engaging in battle. Over the next few minutes, the bellowing and booming hit greater and greater peaks of intensity, until finally Henry is standing at the gates of Harfleur, demanding that the governor surrender his township.






