Crazy in Love

Romeo and Juliet is one of those tales everybody knows, whether or not they've read it, seen it performed live, or watched one of the many film adaptations. So Seattlest kinda knew what to expect when we descended deep into the bowels of Center House for the play's opening night performance by the Seattle Shakespeare Company. We got the standard star-crossed lovers stuff, but director John Langs included a few modern updates, some of which we liked, and some...not so much.

The cast dressed in contemporary garb, but still fought with swords. That works. The balcony scene featured Romeo and Juliet addressing each other through a spinning chainlink fence. We'll accept that. But the use of modern music? Well-intentioned, yet ultimately a bad idea. Look, any take on Shakespeare that conveys the zeitgeist with Radiohead's "Electioneering" is fine by us; however, the choice of music went from compelling to distracting and then down-right annoying---something straight outta a bad Cameron Crowe film. We found it charming how Romeo caught Juliet's eye (and ear) with his version of Semisonic's "Singing in My Sleep." But when Romeo and Juliet's secret wedding was scored by Aqualung, that's when things got a wee bit too O.C. for our tastes. Had there been any inclusion of go-to soundtrack shills The Postal Service, we would have procured our own vial of poison and totally pulled a Romeo.

As to the actors, Dana Powers Acheson and Lathrop Walker---the latter of whom we recognized from his work in Crave---gave adequate heat to the titular twosome. We appreciated Ian Merrigan's performance as rational, even-keeled Benvolio (who our uneducated companion for the evening referred to as "The Goofball"). And of course, we *loved* Hans Altwies as Mercutio. The always-over-the-top, bawdy role requires a scene-stealing performance, and Altwies more than delivered.

Erica Bradshaw, as Juliet's Nurse, however, was another story. The way the role is played, she's a matronly (read: overbearing and sassy) African-American woman---in other words, a Mammy. We aren't ones to overreact and play the race card all willy-nilly, but the portrayal completely rubbed us the wrong way: This Nurse was walking a thin line between comic relief and racist caricature.

At the end of play, when (spoiler alert) both Romeo and Juliet are dead, a montage of representations of the famed couple throughout the ages---artistic renderings, movie stills, etc.---play on a screen while Romeo and Juliet rise, stand in front of the images, and kiss. Is this to represent the lovers' reunion in death? Mayhaps, but we saw it as a misguided attempt to give the play the semblance of a happy ending. Besides, everybody knows that suicide victims face nothing in the afterlife except eternal damnation and hellfire---and, if John Langs has any say in the matter, lots of Damien Rice.

Romeo and Juliet runs now through November 20, 2005
Thursdays – Saturdays at 7:30
Saturday and Sunday Matinees at 2:00
Center House Theatre - Seattle Center
Get tickets here.