Playwright: William Shakespeare
At: Chicago Shakespeare Theater,
Navy Pier
Phone: (312) 595-5600; $48-$65
Runs through: Nov. 21
Know someone that hates the idea of Shakespeare, someone who perhaps sees the Bard's work as something that's 'good for you,' incomprehensible, and hopelessly erudite? Take that person to see The Merry Wives of Windsor, one of Shakespeare's most comic confections, positioned with its sights squarely on the funny bone, below the waist, and seldom at the brain. That's not to say that The Merry Wives of Windsor is Shakespeare for Dummies, but that it's silly, fun, and easily accessible (in spite of its many-layered plot, which does demand some attention to keep the slapstick, farcical crosses and double crosses sorted out).
Chicago Shakespeare Theater, under the winning direction of Barbara Gaines (the theater's uber director who, more often than not, comes up with interpretations of Shakespeare's work that manages to be both fresh and innovative, while retaining respect for the original text and intentions; this production, set in 18th century Maine, is no different), has crafted a frolicking, fast-moving vehicle that perfectly complements the play's center, Sir John Falstaff. Falstaff, a rogue and irrepressible hedonist, has become such a symbol for gluttony, pleasure, and duplicity that he has become part of the lexicon, with 'Falstaffian' being applied to anything overblown and greedy. I wish I could use it to describe this play, but that would be, well, Falstaffian (too lazy). But I digress.
Shakespeare built this farce (which probably doesn't have the strength, elegance, and power of other farcical works, such as A Comedy of Errors) around Falstaff, who he introduced in Henry IV. Here, Shakespeare has made the rotund, flesh and food-loving scamp almost pitiable, so cruel are the fates that Shakespeare has befall him. Even though Falstaff must take responsibility for his actions through his own greed and scheming (he plots to seduce two wealthy married women to cheat them out of money), by play's end, one almost has to feel sorry for the fellow, because he has been repeatedly duped, beaten, teased, and cowed into a kind of pitiful submission; it's almost too much (and, indeed, literary critic Harold Bloom sees Merry Wives as one of Shakespeare's worst efforts, written to appease his patron queen). We become part of the final woodland mob that gleefully kick and punch Falstaff when he's down (however deserving he is of this thrashing).
But perhaps I carpeth too much. As I said in the beginning, this tale of greed and lust turned on its ear by cooler minds can be a fun romp. Director Gaines makes it so, by creating a production that virtually sings. Any production of Merry Wives rises and falls on the strength of its Falstaff and Gaines is lucky to have Greg Vinkler as Falstaff. Vinkler is perfect in the part, with big gestures and physical heartiness that perfectly match this overblown character. But the remainder of the cast acquit themselves with a kind of thespian genius, especially Lusia Strus as the busybody, Mistress Quickly, making her the comedic heart of the play with fine-tuned comic timing and physicality. Also worthy of note is Ross Lehman, who turns Master Ford, the would-be cuckold into something strong, admirable, and very funny. And Scott Jaeck as the transplanted-from-France Doctor Caius, provides some of the play's silliest—and funniest—moments. With a practical and stunning rotating set design from James Noone, atmospheric lighting from Anne Miletello, 18th century costumes courtesy of Mariann Verheyan, and music and sound design from Alaric Jans and Lindsay Jones, respectively, this is a feast for the eyes, if not for the intellect.