The Comedy of Errors at Theatre by the Bay

the comedy of errors
Theatre by the bay
the national post

In Richard Rose's production of The Comedy of Errors, the Shakespeare play with a double dose of twins, Ephesus is a town composed of transparent cages. In the first scene, the refugee merchant Aegeon is confined in one of them while he tells his long tale of woe. It seems more monotonously woeful here than is strictly necessary, while the Duke who judges him is a cardboard tyrant. The cages are rearranged to form adjacent chambers, from one of which the jealous wife, Adriana, harangues her patient sister, Luciana, who is doing aerobics in the other. For street scenes, the frames that define the cages are realigned into an urban maze through which the Ephesian natives obliviously rush, each one minding his own business at a furious rate.

It all seems very inhuman, as much in itself as in the society it depicts, and not much fun at all. But as the show progresses it develops personality, humour and even warmth. The frames are manipulated with an agility and inventiveness that matches the constant reshaping of the furnishings in Rose's production at Stratford of The Brothers Karamazov.

The identical Antipholus brothers -- one a resident, one a tourist -- suffer identical identity crises and carry identical briefcases, which they use as offensive weapons. Master-servant relationships are defined here by the varying ways in which beatings are given and received. The serving Dromios (Kyle Horton and, with a slight edge, Michael Rubenfeld) take their punishment with grimaces and jokes, each in an individual rhythm. The Antipholi (Brandon McGibbon and, with a definite edge, Brendan Murray) are respectively piqued and outraged. The highest-definition performance is Philippa Domville's pregnant Adriana, whom the pressures of farce bring ever closer to premature delivery; she gives a new meaning to the term "hysterical pregnancy."

The last scene is a joy, Victor Ertmannis's condemned Aegeon entering into the spirit of things by laying his own head upon the executioner's block, then wondering why nobody notices. There's a lovely surprise ending that, even with only one performance to go, I shouldn't give away. Let me just say that it's the perfect way to end a play about twins.