28
Jul
2014
Every so often, Genesius Guild's end-of-summer comedy isn't the traditionally silly, over-the-top production that mostly forsakes a story-driven plot. Such is the case with this year's comedic romp Plutus. During Saturday's take on Aristophanes' original text, I found myself as interested in the outcomes of the characters as I did in director/adapter Don Wooten's mockery of local icons and current events. Sometimes more so.
This year, Genesius Guild's annual Greek tragedy is a double-feature, as the local theatrical organization presents Aeschylus' The Suppliants and The Persians - two plays for the price of one (which is still free). With each piece running less than an hour, the entire evening's entertainment, even with intermission, falls just short of two hours, giving audiences one partial hour of what frequent Guild patrons expect from the group's Greek tragedies, and one partial hour of some very welcome, though relatively minor, changes.
It's always a pleasure to be able to laud the chorus members of a production, and that's certainly appropriate for Genesius Guild's presentation of Shakespeare's Coriolanus; the crowd scenes involving the Roman citizens - a group made up of 15 actors - are some of the most dynamic moments in co-directors Bryan Woods' and Don Wooten's production. Usually seen angrily protesting something, there's a palpable energy in these performers' collective presence as the group storms the stage and creates a general hubbub in the background, adding more realism than would be on display had they merely stood in place and interjected occasional comments. Stirring things up beginning with the opening scene, and appearing multiple times throughout the course of the play, this charismatic group sets the stage for what proves to be an entertaining evening.
Euripides' Alcestis marks the first Genesius Guild production of a Greek tragedy I've seen without doing advance research on the play's plot, which I usually do out of fear of being lost. I'm happy to say, though, that I did not get lost in the slightest during Saturday's performance, thanks to the production's clear plot points and dialogue, ample projection from the actors speaking from behind sound-inhibiting masks, and the comfortable flow of Dori Foster's direction. The play is interesting in its exploration of fate, and also entertaining by way of costumer Ellen Dixon's simple yet elegant designs (particularly for the women in the chorus), Earl Strupp's aesthetically pleasing masks (with their glittery colors and wisps of escaped locks of hair), and the cast's earnest characterizations.
Genesius Guild
Genesius Guild's season-ender opens with a visual gag so wonderfully surprising that I wouldn't dream of describing it, and closes with a slapstick chase so wonderfully goofy that I couldn't describe it if I wanted to.
As the organization's annual Greek dramas always do, Genesius Guild's presentation of Electra begins with a processional. During this preamble, the cast members, accompanied by a majestic anthem, slowly make their way across the Lincoln Park stage, and those who'll be wearing the traditional headpieces of the period carry them at waist level, giving us an early peek at Ellen Dixon's costumes, Earl Strupp's masks, and, for the last time before the curtain call, the performers' faces. (Only the play's choral figures remain unmasked throughout the production.) It's a lovely touch, as reassuringly familiar as Genesius Guild's nightly T-shirt giveaway and the shrieking from the children playing on the neighboring swing sets.
Amidst the laughter that accompanied Saturday night's Lincoln Park presentation of The Frogs, I was especially aware of one particular audience member's vocal enjoyment. He was seated quite a bit away from me, but judging by the timbre, I'd say he was about five or six, and he'd routinely giggle with an involuntary, infectious happiness that made it sound as though he was being tickled. A bunch of us were, actually.
Saturday's Genesius Guild presentation of The Winter's Tale never quite found its tone, but it's hard to be too bothered by that, because I'm not convinced that Shakespeare's play ever finds its tone, either. The bard's work is an unusual, somewhat off-putting blend of high and low comedy, aching tragedy, and pastoral romance, and I can only assume that pulling it off in a way that makes sense requires an extraordinary amount of finesse. Director Patti Flaherty's production didn't display this sort of acumen, yet to its credit, the show was never less than pleasant. Whether The Winter's Tale is meant to be pleasant is another matter entirely.
Rating its Degree of Difficulty on a scale of one through ten, I'd give Genesius Guild's opening-night performance of Shakespeare's As You Like It... hmm... about a 27.
