For as long as people have been making theatre, there’s been wide-eyed intrigue about what goes on behind the curtain. The love affairs. The mudslinging. The political backstabbing.
(OK, in reality, things are probably far less dramatic.)
TV shows like “Sling and Arrows,” musicals like “Merrily We Roll Along” and films like Atom Egoyan’s “Seven Veils” — all variations on a similar theme — have only heightened that interest.
While House and Body’s new production of “Measure for Measure,” running this week in a Crow’s Theatre production, doesn’t exactly fall into that genre of the backstage drama, it feels like a natural extension of it — with a welcome twist.
Christopher Manousos’s crackling adaptation is set in a sound studio, where the boundaries are blurred between the stage and the backstage.
We’re watching five actors record a live radio production of Shakespeare’s “Measure for Measure.” And out of earshot of the microphones, tensions simmer.
There’s the bullish director (Sébastien Heins, convincingly domineering), who’s starring in the production alongside his wife, a film star (Katherine Gauthier). Let’s just say they have intimacy issues.
They’re joined by the director’s best friend (Jamie Cavanagh) and a sound technician (Danté Prince), who narrates the proceedings and, like the other performers, steps into a variety of roles.
And last, there’s the awkward newbie (Beck Lloyd, in an incredibly nuanced performance), an “up-and-coming stage actor” brought in at the last minute as an emergency cover.
What’s most fascinating about Manousos’s play-within-a-play setup is how it echoes the themes at the heart of Shakespeare’s work: the abuse of power, moral ambiguity, the difference between appearance and reality.
In “Measure for Measure,” set in a lawless and corrupt Vienna, the Duke (played by Cavanagh’s character) cedes power to his deputy, Angelo (Heins), and goes undercover as a friar.
The new ruler soon starts to lay down the law. Among one of the first to be punished is the young Claudio (Prince), sentenced to death after he impregnates Juliet, his fiancé whom he’s not yet wed.
When Claudio’s sister, Isabella (Lloyd), learns of his fate, she appeals to Angelo for a pardon. The ruler then reveals his hypocrisy: Angelo says he’ll only spare Claudio’s life if Isabella first agrees to sleep with him.
Isabella, a nun, refuses the offer, even if it means that her brother must die. But when the Duke, still in disguise, learns of what’s unfolded, he hatches a plan to make right all that is wrong.
Manousos, who also directs, quickly and effectively establishes the testosterone-infused dynamics and fraying relations among the performers in the radio play. And he does so with minimal dialogue — all while avoiding the clichés you might expect from such a drama.
Beyond that, what makes this production worth a visit is that, at its core, it’s an exceptionally strong presentation of “Measure for Measure.” Distilled to just over two hours, with an intermission, this abridged version races forward with insurgency, while Chris Malkowski’s neon lighting designs infuse the play with an edgy and capricious tone.
It all also feels so relevant. When leaders abuse their power ever more flagrantly, when hypocrisy has become more prevalent than honesty, and when the distinction between what is true and what is false has been obscured so completely, “Measure for Measure” holds up a mirror to us. And in Manousos’s production, life imitates art — in more ways than one.
