Bay Street's 'As You Like It' Is Pure Summertime Bliss
Literary scholars often disagree on the merits of William Shakespeare’s “As You Like It.” Many see the play as a trifle, a sharp if innocuous comedy lacking the genius of the Bard’s greatest work. Others, such as the scholar Harold Bloom, view it as a major work, citing the play’s heroine Rosalind as Shakespeare’s most fully realized female character.
What fans and critics generally agree on is that, from a performance standpoint, “As You Like It” is a genuine crowd-pleaser. Fulfilling this promise is an enjoyable and inventive new production now running through Sept. 3 at Bay Street Theater in Sag Harbor.
A perennial favorite of summer Shakespeare revivals, “As You Like It” is a pastorale set in the imaginary woods of Arden, dramatized as a kind of sylvan paradise of eros. The plot will be familiar enough to fans of the Bard’s plays. Fleeing persecution by her uncle’s court, Rosalind and her cousin Celia escape to the forest, where they encounter a number of memorable characters, including the amorous young gentleman Orlando (himself at odds with his family over an inheritance).
Naturally, this being Arden (an allusion to Eden), a number of romances begin to flourish, allowing the playwright to riff on the many vagaries of romance (“Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love”). Music, love poems carved into trees, and a bit of cross-dressing complete the libertine atmosphere.
The director, John Doyle, bends gender and race here in various ways. In this production, black and white cast members are not only cousins (Rosalind and Celia), but also brothers “by birth” (Oliver and Orlando). Adam, Orlando’s faithful servant, is played by a woman (Cass Morgan, in a memorable performance), and Jaques, a melancholic lord, is portrayed by the venerable Ellen Burstyn. Though initially distracting, none of these casting decisions subtract from the production. Men, after all, often played women in early productions of Shakespeare’s plays, and the playwright’s universal understanding of humanity is nimble enough for the most counterintuitive casting.
Standout performances include the aforementioned Ms. Morgan, who finds empathy in the elderly Adam: The scene of Orlando carrying his hunger-weakened servant is the play’s most moving moment. Quincy Tyler Bernstine, as Celia, seems the performer most in touch with the humor in “As You Like It.” In fact, there probably should be more laughs in this production, though Ms. Bernstine delivers the majority of the mirth when it appears.
David Samuel, as both the wrestler Charles and the love-struck Silvius, speaks his lines with a disarming naturalness; he is the most relaxed actor on the stage. And the charismatic Andre De Shields brings a wise irony that is perfectly in line with the character of Touchstone. With his impish clothing and gentle tauntings, Mr. De Shields’s performance reminds one of the immortal M.C. in “Cabaret.”
Audience members may be looking for fireworks from the veteran Ms. Burstyn as the acid-tongued Jaques. They will be disappointed. Instead, the actress plays her character with a weary, almost fragile resignation. It is she who is in charge of the play’s signature “All the world’s a stage” speech, and Ms. Burstyn delivers these lines — some of the greatest in the English language — in a laconic voice one register above a whisper, as if melancholy were somehow akin to lethargy.
As Rosalind, Hannah Cabell effortlessly moves from the feminine to the androgynous and manages to find what chemistry she can with Kyle Scatliffe’s Orlando. But as an actress she is less comfortable with Shakespeare’s humor. Her Rosalind is bright, sassy, and smart, but rarely witty.
Livening things is the stage design, dominated by a series of glowing orbs that hang from the ceiling and perform multiple functions as trees, perhaps stars, and most certainly romantic talismans, heightening the amorous aura. And those cast members obliged to play instruments — including violin and piano — do so capably, helping to cast a spell of pastoral summertime bliss.
This is, after all, what you hope for from one of Shakespeare’s summer frolics: to leave the everyday and have a dreamy lover’s spell cast over you, if only for a time. You know, of course, that it is a ruse and will end shortly. But you submit anyway. It can’t be helped. It’s how we like it, and you will too.