Review: American Players Theatre's All's Well that Ends Well

The outdoor stage at American Players Theatre.

Helena and Bertram are, to say the least, no Beatrice and Benedick.  There’s no joy in their bantering, only longing (hers) and sneering dislike (his). All of which only points to the extraordinary talents of director John Langs. For American Players Theatre’s staging of All’s Well, Langs shapes a fascinating narrative richly populated with characters who are eminently understandable even in their most despicable moments.

Watching Helena (Ally Carey) and Betram (Matt Schwader) journey through their profoundly troubled romance is at times maddening - Why must she act like such a doormat? Why must he be such an immature horndog? But Langs has located the deep core of complex humanity in both Betram and Helena. Who hasn’t known the woman who is smart, beautiful, elegant and nobody’s fool - but for matters of love. As for the callow Bertram – He’s barely old enough to grow a beard when he’s forced to marry against his will. If Bertram didn’t rebel and go off to sow his wild oats Shakespeare would be guilty of writing a wholly unbelievable character. While there’s no denying Bertram’s suave, hateful modus operandi – promise eternal love at dusk, flee at dawn – he’s utterly recognizable. Boys will be boys, until they man up and mature.

Langs uses the journey of boy to man to create a romance of beauty and the beast, a tale as old as time. Bertram certainly inflicts his share of harm on the journey from boy to man,. But in the end, he completes the journey. If he inflicts damage along the way, well, that’s pretty much the human condition, isn’t it? Damage is what people do to each other, and few have captured the layered, agonies and ecstasies of love and damage like Shakespeare.

It helps that Langs’ cast is deeply and sincerely versed in the rhythms and nuances of Shakespeare’s gorgeous language. Tripping off the tongues of this ensemble, Shakespeare sounds as natural as casual, contemporary conversation. Meanings are crystal clear, shadings of emotion are as finely etched that even the subtlest turn of feeling stands out in stark relief. Listening o this group make their way through the text is a glorious experience.

Perhaps the most exquisite example of an actor who speaks Shakespeare as if he were born and raised in Elizabethan England is Jim DeVita. Our main complaint about DeVita is that he works primarily in Wisconsin. Chicagoans who want to hear the man’s masterful command of language, have to travel. He’s worth the trip to Spring Green, twice over. DeVita plays Parolles, Bertram’s bad-influence frenemy. In doing so, he delivers the most complex comic relief this side of Falstaff. Parolles is an arrogant lying, two-faced hypocritical braggart, a toothless whining cur who fancies himself king of the jungle and who yet realizes - under all his endless showboating and wind bagggery - that he is a shameful coward. Listen to his self-reflective fourth act monologue (“I find my tongue is too foolhardy”) and you hear a wrenching degree of self-awareness and a true desire to become a batter person. Parolles knows precisely the measure of man that he is - and that’s more than you can say of Betram.

Which brings us to Schwader, who reveals a formidable range with this difficult role. Compare Schwader’s performance here - Bertram is spoiled, selfish, disrespectful and in love with war as only the stupidly machismo can be – with his work last summer as Henry V.  With the latter, Schwader radiated an aura of valiance and leadership that had the audience ready to follow him into whatever breach he indicated. As Bertram, Schwader elicits the precise opposite reaction. You just want to smack him upside the head until he learns some manners and takes responsibility for his actions. Or so you do until the complete, 180 degree moral turn Bertram takes in the play’s final minute. It’s a ridiculously daunting task Shakespeare presents here - Betram goes from lout to hero inside of less than half a dozen lines. Schwader pulls it off with the ease of a gifted artist . When Bertram changes, it’s all a matter of reaction and chemistry; unlike Parolles, Bertram doesn't get the luxury of exppsitional self-examination. Schwader offers the theatrical equivalent of alchemy, creating a character who credibly undergoes that monumental 11 O’Clock sea-change that All’s Well rests upon.     

As Helena, Ally Carey has less of an obvious emotional journey to work with. She’s in love from start to finish. Her story is subtler as she moves from giddy romantic to a wiser woman sadly aware of the often heartless, duplicitous nature of men in search of conquests. Her Helena has an elegance and a strength that balances her seemingly submissive actions. This woman is nobody’s doormat. She’s merely a woman in love, willing to go to heroic and cleverly resourceful ends to achieve her romantic means.

Throughout, Lang’s staging delves a culture that produces such macho heels as Bertram in the first place, using a corps of strapping French warriors to illustrate the blind bloodlust wrought of crowd mentality, and the sometimes dubious brotherhood of soldiers who believe the world’s highest calling is to war. Women, of course, have no place in such a world view except as momentary diversions between battles. It takes a heroine like Helen to make such boys see otherwise.

Shakespeare’s ending here lacks the happily-ever-after glow of his sunnier plays, making All’s Well uniquely realistic amid the Bard’s romantic comedies. The web of life, notes Bertram, “is of a mingled yarn; good and ill together” all wound up in a messy knot. All’s Well, despite its summarily happy title, reflects that painful messiness.

All’s Well That Ends Well continues through Oct. 1 at American Players Theatre, in Spring Green, Wisconsin. Tickets are $39 - $67. For more information, call 608/588-2361, click here or go to www.americanplayers.org