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Commedia dell'arte meets vaudeville in The Servant of Two Masters When you're told "water and silly string will be used on stage," and that a show wants to bring back vaudeville, some skeptical wincing may be in order. There are, indeed, portions of Seattle Shakespeare Company's slap-happy production of "The Servant of Two Masters" that induce winces. And others that win the intended guffaws and giggles. A cast primed for exhaustive cavorting and gamboling gives their all to this mixed-bag show, staged and traffic-managed by Dan McCleary. This take on Carlo Goldoni's comedy about the two-timing work ethic of a zany servant, played by new-to-Seattle imp Chris Ensweiler, is festooned (and sometimes sluggishly weighed down) with physical and verbal shtick galore. Goldini, [sic] an 18th-century playwright, wrote "Servant of Two Masters" as a revival of — and homage to — the commedia dell'arte stage antics that preceded him. So it's fitting a modern American theater use it to look fondly back at the early-20th-century slapstick of vaudeville halls and silent films. That said, clown princes of the flickers like Buster Keaton (whose flat-topped hat, black suit and quizzical mien are adopted by the adept Ensweiler) rigorously refined and pruned their gags. McCleary and company take more of an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach — stopping short only of ripping that sink from its casings, and smashing you over the head with it to get a laugh. (They don't always know when to leave well enough alone, and the pacing would pep up if they did.) A framing device enjoyably introduces us to the stock players/characters. We're first told by the Master of Revels (the commanding Shawn Belyea) that the troupe will perform "The Merchant of Venice." Woops, mix-up! It's comedy tonight, so they adapt. The blizzard of lazzi (comic bits) that follows is energetically performed by the eager-beaver cast of 14, as they impart Goldoni's deliberately convoluted tale of a double-dealing servant, his pair of preening masters, several sets of lovers, et al., to accordion flourishes by music man Robertson Witmer, and in splashy costumes by Deane Middleton. Some gags tickle and impress; others go splat. But you do root for the actors — while wishing they'd give it s rest now and then. One of the more artful bananas is Kerry Ryan, an Oregon import whose kewpie voice and chipmunk puckishness make her turn as a servant with the hots for Ensweiler's sly fella a quirky joy. Deborah Fialkow, as a "cross-dressing leading lady," also wins laughs with a (relatively) calm approach. She's elegant in two guises — as a swashbuckling guy and a dishy gal who gets her man. Emily Chisholm and David Goldstein are the idiot young lovers. She's an effusive flouncer. He's a blowhard with a hyperactive sword. Both could cut the mugging by half, as could Katjana Vadeboncoeur as a flirtatious innkeeper dolled up like an Old West dance-hall queen. And so it goes. At times, the actors amusingly spice the Goldoni script (nicely adapted from the Italian by Jeffrey Hatcher and Paolo Emilio Landi) with topical and local references. Some are culled by Belyea's nerdy assistant (amusing Ben Burris) who asks audience members where they're from, then works in refs to the likes of Redmond, Fife and Seward Park. During a recent show, there were also funny jabs at Gov. Christine Gregoire, the Sonics and the Seahawks, a sexy recitation of driving directions to the Seattle Center and the inevitable Obama mentions. And the silly string? You won't see it coming until it's all over you. |