Absurdity of Errors
The most successful anti-drug campaign of the early ’90s began with a raw egg and a frying pan, and ended with the egg (“your brain”) frying in a greasy mess on the pan, which is, of course, the universal symbol for “drugs.”
Now, if you take that metaphor and exchange “Shakespeare” for “your brain” and “commedia dell’Arte” for “drugs,” you might have an idea of Utah State Theatre’s production of the “Comedy of Errors.”
Of course, after watching the show, “your brain” might still be a greasy mess, but that’s only because the production is the most hysterical, absurd and utterly out-of-this-world play to hit the Morgan Theatre this year.
The plot (hilarious in its own right) focuses on all the mishaps and errors that occur when two sets of twins – each set with one master (Antipholus) and one servant (Dromio) – who were separated at birth, meet in Ephesus where one set of twins had spent their whole life.
We learn early on that one set of twins and the mother Emelia were separated from the other set and the father during a plot-inducing storm that took place 20 years before the beginning of the play. Both the father and the mother named their half of the twins Antipholus and Dromio thinking it was the other pair who had perished. It seems the rescue involved some Corinthian anglers, but lets not bother with the details.
Well, the father of the twins (the Antipholuses? Antipholi?), a Syracusian who has been searching for his lost son and wife for the last seven years, is sentenced to death at the outset of the story because (apparently, this was common knowledge way back when) Ephesians hate Syracusians.
By random chance, Antipholus/Dromio of Syracuse take a ship to the same city their dad, mom and brothers are in and are mistaken by everyone who knows their Ephesian counterparts, including a goldsmith, an obese cook, a courtesan, a glutton and a whirling dervish/exorcist.
Coincidently enough, father, mother, and both sets of twins all wind up together after a couple hours (audience time) of confusion and blissful nonsense. Everything works out and the whole group spends the night feasting in an abbey (which reputedly was the most happening place in Ephesus).
Confused yet? As if the tale weren’t delightfully convoluted enough on its own, the whole play is performed in classic Italian slapstick where people walk like chickens and Charlie Chaplin, wooden pigs and bleached fish bones keep appearing between scenes and every time someone mentions a dog, the rest of the cast starts barking (the same works for any animal and its accompanying sound – just watch).
By far, the award for “Most Far-Fetched Shakespearean Duo” goes to the show-stealing Tyson Smith (Antipholus) and Chris Hudson (Dromio) whose exaggerated antics placed many in the audience in danger of hyper extending their funny bone. Amber LaBau (Adriana) deserves “Best Dramatic Overacting” for her superb feminine hysterics while Amber Rolfe and Ryan Hall can share the honor of the “Best Shakespearean Slapstick” award.
Oh, and without much competition, the prize for “Longest Successfully Running Gag Performed in the Morgan Theatre” goes to Ryan Pence (Dr. Pinch) who whirled and twirled colorfully across the stage nearly every time someone mentioned magic, devils or the little mermaid.
Though taking off their masks and coming out of character occasionally, the performers kept the spirit of their adaptation while having a little irreverent poke at their own craft (showing just how silly extreme acting can be). The language, though unchanged from the original, is extremely accessible and the only downside is that the production took just shy of three hours to perform. I mean, brevity is the soul of wit.
In the end, “Comedy of Errors” is Shakespeare like you’ve never seen before: fantastically nonsensical and therapeutically absurd. If you just go with the understanding that, like “Alice in Wonderland,” things might be logical but not necessarily make sense, you probably will get better grades this semester.
After all, during dead week, a little nonsense just might be the only thing that keeps you sane.
Matt Wright is a junior majoring in English and a theater critic for the Utah Statesman. Comments can be sent to him at mattgo@cc.usu.edu.