From a psychological viewpoint, the Guthrie Theater is to be commended simply for having the nerve to launch a February production with winter in the title. At this bitterly frigid time of year, risking that Minnesotans won’t be repulsed by a reminder of the climate is no small gamble. Those that manage to look beyond the offending word, however, will be rewarded with a reinvigorating take on William Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale, one that uses irrepressible passions to restore enchantment to the season.
Of all the Bard’s works, The Winter’s Tale is notoriously difficult to categorize. With a storyline that drastically shifts between place and time, along the way exchanging central characters, the work represents an undeniable challenge. The play’s first half deals primarily with the foolishness of Leontes, the king of Sicilia, whose irrational jealousy compels him to accuse his pregnant queen, Hermione, of adultery with his lifelong friend, Polixeness, king of Bohemia. Everything about the narrative feels like a grand tragedy before Shakespeare takes an abrupt curve, flash-forwarding the plot sixteen years and relocating to the kingdom of Bohemia, where the teenage Perdita, unaware that she is actually the daughter of Leontes and Hermione, has fallen in love with Florizel, prince of Bohemia and son of King Polixeness.
Marked by such continually shifting focus and tone, The Winter’s Tale by all conventional logic shouldn’t work…and yet the play not only works, it captivates. The genius of the gambit resides in Shakespeare’s uncanny balancing of elements, the way the comedy plays off of the tragedy, each reinforcing the other with skilled verve. Demonstrating a deft understanding of the mixture, director Jonathan Munby creates a dynamic fusion of styles, alternating through passages both grim and fanciful.
The Guthrie goes even further to highlight the play’s fascinating contrasts by employing an art design that recalls the Kennedy era. Sicilia is represented by an opulent ballroom where dignitaries consult over cocktails while their wives play host in luxurious evening gowns. Refined jazz reinforces a cool elegance. By comparison, Bohemia is a world of hippie communes and simple pastoral pleasures, a backwoods land where bluegrass jug bands wouldn’t be out of place – in fact, they’d be the norm.
Such imaginative vision is sparked by the collaborative creativity of set designer Alexander Dodge, costume designer Linda Cho, and composer Adam Wernick. Further flourishes are provided by sound designer Scott W. Edwards and lighting designers Oliver Fenwick and Philip S. Rosenberg. The cumulative result of these combined talents is an absolutely mesmerizing design.
Of course, it helps that The Winter’s Tale features an exceptional cast, even by the Guthrie’s impeccable standards. As Leontes, Michael Hayden arguably has the most arduous proposition, eliciting sympathy for a character whose cruel mistreatment of his queen is to blame for dire misfortune. Yet Hayden’s performance, particularly in repentance, is not of a treacherous villain, but of a delusional fool to be pitied. Playing his queen, Hermione, Michelle O’Neill is ever bit as electrifying, bringing a fierce defiance throughout her persecution. Her trial scene, in particular, is an utterly bracing moment of battered virtuosity.
An altogether different sort of chemistry is achieved between Christine Weber and Juan Rivera Lebron. As, respectfully, Perdita and Florizel, the performers embody the heedless intoxication of young love. After the tension of the play’s first half, their romance arrives as a refreshing reprieve, one that Weber and Lebron deliver with an ideally naïve sense of bliss.
While the leads are wonderful, however, many of the play’s highlights come from the supporting cast, an enormously talented assemblage of Guthrie veterans and emerging talents. Of particular note is Helen Carey whose take on Paulina, the noble woman who openly opposes Leontes, is crushingly fierce. Playing her husband, the Sicilian lord Antigonus, Stephen Yoakam brings a fatalistic sense of duty as he conveys the infant Perdita to safety in the foreign land of Bohemia. Strong dramatic turns are also given by Bill McCallum as Polixeness and Bob Davis as Camillo, the Sicilian lord whose good deed results in exile.
Perhaps the greatest surprise in The Winter’s Tale is just how much comedy is found in Bohemia. With proven comic talents Raye Birk and John Catron playing father and son shepherds, of course, hilarity could have been expected. Both actors delight with their portrayals of unapologetic yokels, as do Emily Gunyou Halaas and Suzanne Warmanen, two of the Twin Cities finest performers given the chance to cut loose with unrestrained eccentricities. The largest jester in the cast, however, has to be Michael Thomas Holmes, who brings a devilish zeal to his role as the roguish pickpocket, Autolycus.
Demonstrating a mastery of contrasting tones, the Guthrie’s take on The Winter’s Tale does justice to one of Shakespeare’s most indefinable works. The result is a charming reminder that even the coldest of winters must eventually yield to the warmth of spring. Now that’s a message all Minnesotans should be clamoring to hear this time of year.
The Winter’s Tale runs through March 27th.
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