Good-time Bard

>> Repercussion Theatre's Twelfth Night is a wild and crazy romp

by AMY BARRATT

Talk about a climax.

During the final act of Repercussion Theatre's performance of Twelfth Night last week in the Old Port, fireworks began to explode in the eastern sky. For another show, another company, the earth-shattering kabooms of Australia's entry in the International Fireworks Competition would have been an unwelcome intrusion. But for this carnival-like, pop-music-driven adaptation of one of Shakespeare's best-known comedies, it was an entirely appropriate finale. After all, the roman candles held off until the last act, when everybody's getting laid and getting married; really you couldn't ask for a better, if slightly cliché, metaphor.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Repercussion has no more performances in the Old Port, and the Australian team won't be following them around from park to park. I mention the fireworks incident to make the point that, say what you will about this Montreal-based touring company, they know what they are and what it takes to do open-air theatre. They long ago stopped worrying about pleasing Shakespeare scholars and focused on pleasing folks who may never in their lives see the Bard performed indoors.

As an outdoor, free (donations gratefully accepted) event, Repercussion attracts a lot of families with children. Their version of Twelfth Night at times seems deliberately tailored to a school-age crowd. The text is cut to the proverbial ribbons--and you know what? So what! At least no one's going to walk away from the performance complaining that Shakespeare's boring.

The play itself begins at 8:30 p.m., but the spectacle begins at 7:30 with a team of acrobats performing death-defying feats. The same acrobats are also integrated into Twelfth Night, taking non-speaking roles and performing the odd stunt between scenes just because they can.

Director Jack Langedijk has invented a character called Lester who steps in from time to time to summarize some of the more wordy scenes in an amusing way. One of the more grown-up gags is the way this adaptation deals with the perennial problem of Sebastian and Viola who are supposed to look identical. This production makes fun of this corny stage convention by not even trying to cast actors who look similar. Charlotte Northeast, as Viola, is about half the size of Keith Barker, who plays Sebastian. When Viola appears dressed in her brother's clothes, a narrator comments that they have apparently shrunk. Sebastian and Viola both wear jeans and plaid shorts, hers shot with pink ribbon, his with blue (a little gag on the way we use colour to signal gender).

The costumes, by James Lavoie and Kate Hill, have to be seen to be believed. The inhabitants of the land of Illyria all resemble large insects or shellfish, but with little tributes to period dress. Olivia, for example, wears a black hoop-skirt that goes right up to her neck, to symbolize the prison of her self-imposed mourning. This character, usually played as rather prissy and dull, if beautiful, is here portrayed with refreshing vulgarity by Jessica Bashline.

The production is suffused with bits of pop tunes on the theme of love from Sinatra to U2. When some outrageously attired character starts lipsynching to "Don't Rain on my Parade" or "It's So Unusual," the feeling is akin to a big ol' drag show.

Just in time for Pride Week. Fabulous.

Twelfth Night/Festival of Fools through August 21 at various parks in and around Montreal, pre-show at 7:30pm, bring your own chair or blanket. Suggested donation: $5. Info-line: 279-PARK