‘As You Like It’ at The Shakespeare: Beatles and Bard
There's a cruise ship somewhere waiting for the Shakespeare Theatre Company's misbegotten mashup of "As You Like It."
Like a throwback to cruise ship fare of old, the Shakespeare Theater Company’s As You Like It is a mortifying mass-market mashup that does little more than skewer both Shakespeare and The Beatles. The only saving grace is the cast, with each and every one of them delivering on their personal remits with tragic and occasionally talented enthusiasm.
What can the man-behind-the-concept, director Daryl Cloran, have been thinking? Well, on first blush it certainly feels like he thought it would be oh-so-cute to take two cultural phenomena and show how clever he is at bastardizing them. If being generous, one might next imagine he thought this would be a jaunty answer to the play’s unwieldy challenges or a way to get musical theater lovers into Shakespeare.
Then again, maybe it’s just about bums in seats. Shakespeare set to pop music? The Beatles set to classical theater? What’s not to love at the box office?
Whatever the motive, without the application of any kind of soul, wit, or intellect, the end result is neither fish nor fowl. You can’t call it a musical since the music was never written for purpose. And if there are often liberally adapted doses of the Bard, it just feels like a play constantly interrupted by a tribute band.
The pacing is less for theatergoers and more for those distracted by thoughts of another pass through Neptune’s all-you-can-eat Buffet. In fact, the whole thing feels like some kind of overly long after-dinner game: Is someone in love? Break into “Love Me Do.” Things going wrong? Launch into “Help!”
In keeping with the early Beatles catalog, the vibe is a cliched ’60s, but the kitsch is more cobbled-together than clever. A pre-show wrestling match may aptly reference the play and offer some fun choreographic energy, but like much here, it’s more show than Shakespeare.
There are belted-out songs, there’s madcap slapstick, and also a surprising amount of weirdly chaste hip-waggling, but there is so very little of the actual story and its thought-provoking depth.
Between The Beatles and the comic interludes there just isn’t room for more than the gist: families have feuded, people get mad, passions abound, women cross-dress, someone has a commune in the forest, and a bunch of people end up married. The hubbub may subside long enough for “All the world’s a stage…,” but only because it’s something everyone will recognize. Ugh.
As for the ensemble, again, kudos for the no-holds-barred efforts, but it’s largely every person for themself. Central to the action is the will-they-won’t-they love match between Rosalind and Orlando, and if the two performers showcase their respective talents, there is no discernable chemistry. Playing this hard to the crowd leaves little room for subtlety. The play’s more winsome aspects — such as Orlando’s confused affection for the disguised-as-a-man Rosalind — just seem odd.
Still, these are big performances, and as Rosalind, Chelsea Rose is the consummate musical theater professional and one of the very few here with the requisite voice. If she presents as more ready for Oklahoma than Shakespeare, she certainly has a facility with the language.
Jeff Irving’s Orlando is full of youthful fire and ire, but not noticeably for her. If he isn’t the greatest singer, he certainly brings the enthusiasm.
An anchoring standout is Kayvon Khoshkam as the clownish Touchstone. Surpassing the largely toe-curling humor, he brings a witty affect, superbly-timed asides, and one of the funniest few seconds with a cucumber you’re ever likely to see. Khoshkam is also exceedingly comfortable with his Shakespeare and leaves one wishing mightily that this had been a production of the actual play, especially when paired with Emma Slipp, as Audrey.
Other gems are Naomi Ngebulana as an appealing Celia, and Ben Elliott as the gormless Silvius who delivers some giggle-worthy physical comedy and offers impressive facility with the language. Taking the roles of Dame Frances and Dame Senior, Jennifer Lines may be serviceable but her swaying caricature of a hippie quickly grows old.
The remainder do give it their all, but the less said about what Pheobe does to the guitar solo in “Something,” the better.
What’s especially irksome is that there are many wonderful songs showcased here and if you’re not paying attention, you might easily confuse the brilliance of Lennon-McCartney with the complete non-brilliance in Cloran’s effort to use it.
With so little else going for the production, this is simply stolen valor. Equally frustrating is the fact that the format can work. Anyone who saw Roundhouse’s Tempest set to Tom Waits will have seen a shining example.
Bottom line: There’s a cruise ship somewhere waiting for this production. And there is no doubt it should be sent to sea.
As You Like It (★☆☆☆☆) runs through Jan. 14, 2024, at Harman Hall, 610 F St. NW. Tickets range from $35 to $119. Visit www.shakespearetheatre.org.
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