Much Ado about Nothing (review)

Orlando Shakespeare Theatre's Much Ado about Nothing sparkled like a diamond; its light-hearted, very physical approach delighted audience members and created a charming and delicious interpretation of this witty comedy. Set in post-World War II Italy, the production employed costumes, music, and props to create a polarity, pitting the American liberators against the Italian Fascists. The play opened somberly, its set—a ruined villa with broken and toppled objects littering the stage—suggesting the aftermath of war. The cast entered and began to clean up with a sad air of resignation; the mood quickly transformed to happiness when Don Pedro and his cohorts returned from war in a glorious military entrance. Costume designer Kristina Tollefson dressed the returning troops in two variations of military dress: Don Pedro, Benedick, and Claudio donned American-style khaki uniforms, complete with Eisenhower jackets and side caps, while the "bad boy" contingent—Don John, Borachio, and Conrade—wore the black shirts and berets of the Fascist militia under Mussolini, effectively "othering" them and suggesting an image of corrupt power. Even for audience members who may not have noticed this detail, the difference in color and style was apparent: Don John and friends were obviously not aligned with the rest of the group. Costumes contributed enormously to this production, not only in separating the good guys from the bad. Garments and accessories clearly evoked the late 1940s, from Beatrice's snood to Ursula's top-tied kerchief with I-Love-Lucy red curls peeping out in front. Leonato presented an elegant appearance in his beautifully draped cream linen suit, while Margaret made flirtatious use of her off-the shoulder flouncy top.

As the returning soldiers joined the rest of the cast, the characters waved Italian and American flags in celebration; Don Pedro waved an American flag, and Don John pointedly handed him an Italian one, thereby establishing the friction between the two brothers. Music also helped create a sense of time and place, as American war-era songs alternated with older Italian music. Thus "Sing, Sing, Sing," "In the Mood," and "Pistol-Packin' Mama"—all popular wartime hits—were interspersed with "O Mio Babbino Caro," "Santa Lucia," and "Funiculi, Funicula," representing outdated, more traditional music. In fact, the residents of Messina embraced the American culture, joyfully dancing the Lindy hop, waving the stars and stripes, and wagering American dollars for fun. In 2.3, when Balthasar sang a tune at Don Pedro's request, it was done in a delightfully forties-era style, complete with Andrews-sisters style backup singers—including Don Pedro and Leonato—and an old-fashioned stand-up microphone.

Of course, the value of any production of Much Ado can be measured by the performances of its Benedick and Beatrice, and Darren Bridgett and Marni Penning did not disappoint. Bridgett played the role with an endearing vulnerability; his Benedick, never cocky, remained unsure of himself and seemed like a schoolboy when he suspected that Beatrice just might care for him after all. He delivered his "This can be no trick" speech with self-deprecating humor and sly wit. The thrust stage at the Margeson Theatre allows the actors to interact with the audience, and Bridgett took full advantage of this feature, drawing us into his delightful discovery. However, Bridgett's most memorable moments came earlier in the scene when he was hiding from Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato; during this episode, he displayed an astonishing talent for physical comedy in a hilarious sequence that had him performing gymnastic feats on a ladder, slithering on his belly across the stage, and huddling...