And now, yours truly will begin his review in the most honest way possible: the only thing holding this production of Henry VIII back from being great is the text. It's been 25 years since the last production of this play at OSF and now I know why. That being said, the premiere performance on Friday was full of excellent acting, creative staging, pageantry, spectacle... everything you hope for in seeing a play other than... er, the play.

Let me back up just a bit. This last (credited) play by William Shakespeare clearly finds him in a contemplative frame of mind, happy to explore difficult political machiniations in depth and to ruminate upon the rise and fall of those who work with power. Certainly the characters express themselves eloquently, even beautifully at times; there's no mistaking whose work you're being offered. What his audience of the time must've found engrossing, however, is now largely a snore. Shakespeare himself has dealt with matters of jealousy and infidelity with more aplomb, and the History plays often deal with the rites of succession while still keeping our interest. In Henry VIII, you lose one of your chief protagonists (the Duke of Buckingham, played here wonderfully, if briefly, by Michael Elich) in the first 30 minutes, and your chief antagonist (Cardinal Wolsey, by the sublime Michael Heald) with what felt like an hour remaining. Afterwards came the near-downfall of what had been a minor character, brought about by another minor character, and so on. To those English majors and Bard lovers who won't hear a cross word spoken about Shakespeare, I do apologize, but yikes.

Despite my caterwauling, however, I can't say that I didn't enjoy myself.

Can a man fall in love with a theater? There's nothing wrong with the Angus Bowmer or the Elizabethan, but man I've been enjoying the New Theatre for the last few years now. The latest treat is Dead Man's Cell Phone, a new-ish play by Sarah Ruhl. The play itself is good, though not expectacular, but the company does such a great job of executing the production that it is elevated to a truly special place. It stars Sarah Agnew as Jean, a disconnected woman in a world of superficial connections (thanks to the ubiquity of cell phones) who answers a man's cell phone mostly to stop its incessant ringing; she quickly discovers that the phone's owner hasn't been answering it because... well, the title gives this bit away. A few phone calls later, along with a few vaguely-worded answers to callers' questions, Jean finds herself enmeshed in the dead man's life - dining with his bereaved family, meeting for drinks with his mistress, and eventually dipping her toes into his (incredibly unsettling, unethical, illegal) work. From this springboard we're launched into an exploration of what our conncections with one another mean and how connected we actually are - what do we know about one another, how much do we want to know, and what are our obligations to those connected to us?

 

At a press event during opening weekend for OSF's 2009 season, someone asked Bill Rauch and Paul Nicholson what the must-see production of the season was. Mr. Nicholson gave the "correct" answer, of course - "all of them" - and continued that each play had its place in the season. Yes yes, true enough, but I don't work with any of these people and I can afford to step on some toes. The must-see production of 2009 is The Servant of Two Masters, one of the most entertaining theatrical experiences I've ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Ostensibly an 18th Century play by Carlo Goldoni, the company has embraced the commedia dell'arte form for this production, making every effort to evoke a company of actors with a "let's put on a show!" spirit. Makeshift costumes and props, chatting with the audience, improvised pop culture references physical comedy and juggling are all embraced fearlessly in the service of pure entertainment. The original songs by Paul James Prendergast are all clever and solidly composed, and if the musical performances have a rough quality to them that only reinforces the off-the-cuff sensibility of the production.

The titular star of the show is Eric Bedard as Truffaldino, a natural raconteur who presides over the chaos of the production with a flustered flap of his arms when in character and a smirking insouciance when out of it. (The night that I saw him he riffed extensively with a thoroughly engaged audience.) The story, briefly, focuses on his ill-conceived plan to score a burnished reputation, and double helpings at lunchtime, by serving two different noblemen. Those two noblemen, in turn, are involved in a romantic triangle... well, rectangle, really, and one of the noblemen is actually a noblewoman; this portion of the show, at least, will be comfortable ground for longtime consumers of Shakespearean theater.

The web page for this year's production of Macbeth at Oregon Shakespeare Festival contain a line whose like I don't recall: "there are scenes of witchcraft, the slaughter of a mother and her children, and a decapitated head. There is violence, sensuality and disturbing imagery in the production." Sure enough, this is an intense, savage performance of the Scottish Play. Every aspect of the production seems marked with an exclamation point, usually with verve but once or twice with questionable results. Director Gale Edwards and his design team (Scenic Designer Scott Bradley, Costumer Designer Murell Horton, Lighting Designer Mark McCullough and Sound Designer Todd Barton) have put together one of the most, well, "theatrical" productions in years, but the question needs to be answered, with apologies to the bard: is the production full of sound and fury, signifying nothing?

Peter Macon returns for his second season at OSF in the title role here, thanks to either a fortuitous coincidence or an aggressive recruiting campaign - he had said to Bill Rauch last year that if he (Rauch) ever had the opportunity to work with director Gale Edwards he should leap at it. Lo and behold, Edwards comes aboard to direct this season's Macbeth and Macon, who worked with Edwards two years ago in a production of Titus Andronicus in Washington D.C.,  is back in another eponymous Shakespearean role following last year's Othello. Reviewing Mr. Macon's work is going to be a pointless task in the near future if it isn't so already; of any recent company member, his performances seem to be the most polarizing. In my conversations (participated in or overheard) and on the Internet, reviews of him are never mild. Some believe he has an admirable command of the stage and a diction suited to the heavier Shakespearean roles. Others think he is incapable of anything short of bombast and that he lacks subtlety. To date, I fall squarely in the first camp and I thoroughly enjoyed his Macbeth. Contrary to his nay-sayers, I found his ability to "bring it down" within the confines of the Angus Bowmer theatre more than sufficient to the challenges of his role, while the great speeches and moments of surety are happily within his wheelhouse.