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You have to really love Shakespeare to be familiar with Love's Labour's Lost. Although it's one of the Bard's earlier comedies, it's not performed often... probably because it doesn't really end. A man ahead of his time, Billy Shakes ended the play in true cliffhanger fashion, setting things up for a sequel. A sequel that was, legend tells us, allegedly written and performed, but whose script does not survive. (Probably for the best—sequels are never as good anyway. Right, Mannequin: On the Move?)
But what to do with a play that doesn't end? Branaugh gave it a showy newsreel-inspired montage. (But then, he also thought it would be a good idea to make Matthew Lillard sing.) When this Phillyist directed it in college, she cut the last scene of the play and let it end more naturally, albeit on a down note. And we have no doubt that Shakespeare's Globe Theatre will have an approach all of its own as they perform Love's Labour's Lost the Annenberg Center at the University of Pennsylvania through this Saturday.
The play, which aside from its awkward conclusion contains delightful puns; celibacy vows; and secret romances will be accompanied tonight and tomorrow by a pre-show discussion with Penn professors well-versed in the Bard. Friday's show will be followed by a discussion with the entire cast.
So if you're in the mood to dig deeper into Shakespeare's canon and maybe get a little education in the process, get thee to the Annenberg before it's too late!
Shakespeare's Globe Theatre presents Love's Labour's Lost
The Zellerbach Theatre at the Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts, 3680 Walnut St.
Through Saturday, October 31
Tickets: $20-55
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Those costumes are amazing! I never thought I'd see a Mannequin 2 reference in a Shakespearean review.
A curtain never goes up and lights never go down when Shakespeare Globe’s perky Love’s Labour’s Lost plays the Annenberg Center. Musicians played in the lobby before the show began, and actors garbed in lush Renaissance gowns fed us grapes during intermission. Spectators howled with laughter at bawdy bits and vulgarisms that clarified the text. In this frankly theatrical production, actors used the aisles as entrances and playing spaces—one found his way to a spectator’s lap for a time—and we felt so much a part of the rollicking event that by the time we stood as one to applaud, it felt as though we were applauding ourselves.
It makes little sense to single out any performance in a company so tight, but I would advise readers to go anywhere ‘round the globe to see Fergal McElherron’s Costard!
Does the company have to adjust to American audiences? Not when a production is as lucid and as over the top funny as this one is and audiences here get it so easily.