WSC Confronts Us With Rape For Shakespeare Festival
Rape is an inarguably powerful subject matter for drama. Throw in the fact that one particular rape was, according to legend, responsible for the fall of the Roman empire, and you've got quite the weighty subject for a play on your hands.
Such is the backdrop of The Rape of Lucrece, now being staged by Washington Shakespeare Company. The Shakespeare in Washington festival thus far has been impressive not only for showing us seasoned performances of renowned works, but opening our eyes to Shakespearean influences of which we may not even be aware. Callie Kimball's play uses the Bard's epic poem as a springboard for this tale, told partly in verse, complemented by dialogue, and the contrast lends a lovely, poetic structure to the piece.
The text is helped along by a set of mostly-commendable performances. As Lucrece herself, Betsy Rosen is the perfect picture of amiable, unassailable virtue, and she swings from hand-wringing despair to a sort of misplaced sense of honor while never resorting to melodrama. Colin Smith as the evil prince Tarquin, her attacker, plays the straightforward villain with enough nuance to be compelling. Theo Hadjimichael is steadfastly pure and loyal as Lucrece's husband Collatinus, while never seeming wooden. Adding a lighter touch are Parker Dixon with a jokey, accessible turn as Collatinus' friend Brutus, and Abby Wood as a playfully vulgar lady in waiting. The director's decision to use sex-blind casting and have Denman Anderson play her fellow maid, Augusta, is the production's major distraction, as the man is never convincingly feminine, drawing our attention away even when he and Wood act as a sort of Classical chorus in many scenes.
Rape promises a provocative subject, some solid acting, and artful staging to boot. Particularly well done is the scene of the actual rape. Flowing white curtains surround a vulnerable Lucrece, and at the climax, the lights go out and we are left with only the woman's sobs and the perpetrator's grunts and threats for company.
But still, at times, the work drags. Part of the problem is that we go into the story knowing exactly what will happen — the villain who will assault the impossibly but admirably virtuous Lucrece eyes her hungrily from the start. True, it could easily be argued that knowing the plot isn't really all that unusual when encountering a tragedy. But the emotions we experience here — pity at Lucrece's plight, uneasiness with her final choices, and a desire to avenge her wrongful death — offer no surprises either. Ultimately, what we feel isn't quite intense enough to make up for the fact that when it's all over, there is very little ambiguity to keep us pondering.
The Rape of Lucrece runs through March 11 at the Clark Street Playhouse in Arlington. Tickets are available online.