It's one of Shakespeare's worst plays. And not even this talented cast can save it

Take his words with a grain of salt, because Dryden had ulterior motives. His comments were meant to promote his own play, a rewritten version of “Troilus and Cressida” that he claimed would remove Shakespeare’s heap of rubbish and reveal the great ideas hidden underneath. 

I, however, have no ulterior motives. I have absolutely no intention of revising this Trojan War drama. So, trust me when I say this: “Troilus and Cressida” is indeed a pile of trash covering up a gem of a play. 

Unfortunately, Shakespeare Bash’d’s latest revival of the work, now running at the Theatre Centre, only manages to clear about a third of that rubbish, before spritzing some perfume to mask the stench of the rest. And despite some fine performances from a cast that includes a handful of Stratford Festival veterans, director James Wallis’s production is largely as impenetrable as the material itself. 

Putting the “problem” in problem play, “Troilus and Cressida” swings wildly in tone. It’s a spoof on Homer’s “The Iliad” that’s part satire, tragedy, romance and history — all wrapped up in one. 

So great is this play’s identity crisis that it can rival that of Shakespeare’s “Hamlet.” In fact, Shakespeare missed the mark by such a wide margin with this piece that it’s as if his arrow somehow boomeranged around its target and struck him in the thigh.

It’s no wonder “Troilus and Cressida” is so rarely performed and widely cited as one of Shakespeare’s worst plays. (The Shakespeare-focused Stratford Festival has only presented it three times in its history, the most recent revival coming in 2003. And for more than 200 years — between the 17th and late 19th centuries — there were no recorded productions of this play at all.) 

At its centre (kinda, not really, but we’ll get back to that) are its title lovebirds, played by the real-life couple of Deivan Steele and Breanne Tice (with winning chemistry). The young Trojan prince Troilus is smitten by Cressida. He seeks assistance from her uncle, Pandarus (Geoffrey Armour, flamboyantly gay and dressed as if he’s on a Hawaiian beach vacation), who helps bring the pair together. But no sooner after they exchange love’s faithful vows are Troilus and Cressida torn apart. 

Cressida’s treacherous father, Calchas (also played by Armour), has defected to the Greek army. For his sacrifice, he asks the Greeks to retrieve his daughter from the Trojans in exchange for a prisoner of war. And after Cressida is extracted from the Trojan camp by the Greek warrior Diomedes (Austin Eckert), her loyalty toward Troilus is quickly tested. 

But though Troilus and Cressida’s story bookends the play, it’s really more of a subplot — in both stage time and substance.

Instead, the primary drama concerns the mostly-demoralized warriors on both sides of the Trojan War, which, when the play begins, has been locked in a stalemate for some seven years. 

The Greek combatant Achilles (Andrew Iles) doesn’t want to fight; he’s more content canoodling with his lover, Patroclus (Felix Beauchamp), in their tent. That’s left the vain and blockheaded Ajax (Adriano Reis) to face the Trojan challenger Hector (Jordin Hall). 

But Hector isn’t really interested in taking up arms either. In fact, he wants his fellow Trojans to return Helen of Troy (Kate Martin) to the Greeks to put an end to the bloodshed. (It was her abduction from King Menelaus that prompted the war in the first place.)

It’s apparent early on that “Troilus and Cressida” is a cynical work. Despite all its humour, it not only mocks the futility of war but also the fickleness of humans. Characters’ allegiances change on a dime. The sheer amount of narrative reversals over the course of the play can rival the number of deaths in Shakespeare’s bloody “Titus Andronicus.” 

The problem, however, is that Shakespeare presents this in such a heavy-handed manner, with stretches of broad comedy replaced by thick, syrupy melodrama. It’s all too exhausting and feels like the Shakespearean equivalent of an “SNL” parody that more than overstays its welcome — only to wrap up abruptly without a satisfying punchline. 

There are some performances in this overlong, three-hour (plus) revival that make it easier to swallow. Steele and Tice are terrific as the titular couple, lending the pair a jittery, youthful energy. Armour and Julia Nish-Lapidus, as Ajax’s assistant Thersites (who doubles as the play’s wisecracking fool), draw out the humour with their singsong deliveries. And as Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks, Isaiah Kolundzic grounds the production with his reverberant, deep voice.  

Most impressive of all, though, is Jennifer Działoszynski as the Greek hero Ulysses. She delivers her character’s big monologue — about how the divides within the Greek ranks have left them weakened against their common foe — with such persuasiveness and clarity that it renders Shakespeare’s words with startling modern relevancy. (It got me thinking a lot about Canada’s ongoing national-unity crisis.) 

Yet the rest of the performances are far more uneven. Some, like Iles’s ostentatious and shouty portrayal, feel too large for the intimacy of the Theatre Centre’s BMO Incubator. Others struggle with Shakespeare’s verse, slurring key speeches on opening night. 

Worst, though, is that Wallis’s production lacks a clear concept, which is crucial for a play as wily as this one. 

The camouflage costumes in his revival suggest a modern setting. But soon, anachronisms begin to emerge. Helen appears with a Corinthian helmet. Later, the warriors fight with medieval swords and shields. Instead of trying to wrestle with the contradictions central to the play, Wallis’s production adds even more. 

For Shakespeare completionists, this revival of “Troilus and Cressida” offers a rare opportunity to check this play off the list. But for everyone else, it’s simply the Bard at his most tedious.