“O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” Everyone recognizes these iconic words from William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet,” a classic of ninth grade English.
This past Saturday, Diane Paulus’ newest adaptation of “Romeo and Juliet” at the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge graced the stage as the classic tale of budding family feuds, star-crossed lovers and dueling townsfolk met a lively contemporary touch that is still relevant in our hearts today.
In this modern adaptation of the timeless classic, the themes of love, hatred and what it means to be alive are ever-present. Romeo, of the Montagues, and Juliet, of the Capulets, find themselves trapped amid a high-stakes back-and-forth between families, where the two must learn whether or not love will prevail over generational hatred.
Romance is in the air for the titular characters, beautifully played by Rudy Pankow, who acted in “Outer Banks,” and Emilia Suárez, who acted in “Up Here.” Pankow’s youthful and giddy interpretation of Romeo brings a smile to the audience’s faces as we watch him fall madly in love with Suarez’s Juliet, who hides her emotions inside the walls of nobility. With such a young cast full of breakthrough performers, the duo takes Shakespeare’s classical text and gives it a modern-day feel that keeps the audience engaged. Pankow and Suarez take the dynamics of young love to entirely new levels. Romeo climbs onto the balcony to unite with his lover, and the two enchant the crowd with monologues of raw and undeniable love.
They enlist the help of the wise Friar Laurence, played by Terrance Mann, Romeo’s trusted confidante who charms the stage with his ukulele solo. The fatherly Friar guides Romeo in his coming-of-age journey and stamps the story with the bitter consequences of young love when it is announced his letters to Romeo were never delivered.
The story would be remiss without the endearing presence of Romeo’s sidekicks, Mercutio played by Clay Singer, and Benvolio, played by Brandon Dial. The two provide moments of well-timed comic relief within this romantic story, acting like “frat bros” while playfully mocking Romeo for his newfound love. Singer literally embodies the not-often-seen physicality of Shakespeare’s words with his remarkably erotic and wild gesticulations that are sure to crack a few smiles (“Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.”).
Paulus, a Tony Award winner and Artistic Director of the American Repertory Theatre, rarely seems to lose focus with her directorial vision — from Romeo’s first sight of Juliet at the masked ball to Juliet’s final sight of Romeo’s pale face, the show is always about the burgeoning romance accelerating in front of us, and the thread of love is never lost. A key symbol throughout the play is the glowing orbs first shown at the masked ball as partygoers throw them around until one hangs in the air like a moon in the night sky. Later in the show, Juliet heartbreakingly clings to one as she longs for the sight of Romeo, staring into the light with a painful reminder of the woozy and erotic euphoria they felt on the hopeful night of the party.
While Paulus’ direction soars in its ambition and scale, the fight scene between Tybalt and Mercutio, a major turning point of the play, falls flat. What’s often depicted as a gritty contest of swords turns into a lackluster knife fight of much smaller scale, dialing down the stakes and dampening the moment on stage.
Paulus sought to work again with choreographer Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui (after they collaborated on the American Repertory Theatre’s “Jagged Little Pill”) to focus specifically on the humanity of the characters through their movement. Cherkaoui’s work is most present in the masked party scene. With house music bumping in the air and revelers entering the stage carrying glowing orbs of light, Cherkaoui’s pulsing vision blends narrative and spectacle in equal measure.
In an especially clever use of blocking, Paulus and Cherkaoui posture the scene where Friar Laurence gives Juliet the fatal sleeping potion. The stage is enveloped by a dreamlike whisper and you see his lips stop moving as he blueprints the plan. In a scene of beautiful timing, we see the perfect outcome: Juliet curbs her marriage with Count Paris and reunites with Romeo. Of course, in the end, tragedy strikes, and Paulus’ romanticization of the perfect plan is a foil for reality to come.
After the last line has been said, Paulus’ and Cherkaoui’s vision culminates with a brilliant moment of stage design. In a unique addition to the story’s end, the lights brighten, the floor rises revealing a pool of dirt and grass emerges from underneath the stage, as a final floral arrangement is constructed to commemorate the two lost souls.
Shakespeare’s material is something that famously works well with a stage stripped down to its barest elements, and Amy Rubin’s set design is no exception. Finding your seat at the Loeb Drama Center, it’s hard not to wonder what’s to become of the stage in front of you. A tall, wooden structure stands deceptively bare, cutting off most of the sage from the audience’s gaze. However, throughout the show, this structure cleverly transforms, dividing scenes within the act and standing as the ancient Verona walls that separate the Capulets from the Montagues. The wooden edifice also becomes the furnishing for both the famous balcony scene and the space where Romeo murders Tybalt.
Jen Schriever’s distinct light blue lighting design is felt in the air as haze engulfs the theater, and the sharp boxes of light divide the stage and isolate moments of intimacy. To start the show, Romeo and Juliet first enter walking through parallel boxes of light, visualizing the divide to come. Later, in a questionably abrupt design decision, the audience is caught off guard when a white veil drops from the ceiling and projects the disproportioned silhouettes of the Capulets arguing over Juliet’s body. Other notable design elements include Daniel Lundberg’s ominous background sound design with music composed by Alexandre Dai Castaing, which fill the onstage action, and Emilio Sosa’s costume design which tastefully refuses to situate the show in any specific period.
There is no argument. Shakespeare should first and foremost be seen on the stage, where it was intended to be enjoyed. In this unexpectedly unique rendition of “Romeo and Juliet,” the cast breathes new life into the story we all know, leaving the audience with a blooming sense of hope. Paulus’ idea to strip the play from many of its conventions is an abundant success. There is no required reading to feel the tense display of romance unfolding in front of you — in fact, if you are lucky enough, it may be best to go in blind.
