issue 4// vol 45 Eh Rw AA CO Vancouver through Shakespeare's eyes > ‘Bard on the Beach: As You Like It’ review Sonam Kaloti Arts Editor kek kK « Yo have to hide!” says Touchstone, an employee under Duke Frederick’s business. “Why?” says Corin, a farmer from the mystical, peaceful forest of the Okanagan. “Cause it’s Shakespeare!” Touchstone says in reply, as though it were obvious. Bard on the Beach is an exciting opportunity for anyone looking for an organic thrill. Located in Vancouver's Vanier Park, directly across the beautiful shores of Sunset Beach, the outdoor tent event puts on various Shakespeare plays throughout the summer. As You Like It, directed by Daryl Cloran, is a wonderful adaption of the original Shakespeare play into a somewhat modernized musical version, boasting tributes to 25 Beatles songs. The musical is set in Vancouver in the 1960s and begins with a dispute between brothers Oliver and Orlando de Boys, which results in Orlando escaping to the land of the Okanagan to be free of his older brother. Meanwhile, Rosalind is banished by her uncle Duke Frederick (who had also banished his brother, Rosalind’s father, Duke Senior to the Okanagan) from Vancouver. However, Celia, Duke Frederick’s daughter and Rosalind’s cousin, runs away with Rosalind to the Okanagan as well, but not before Rosalind and Orlando have hopelessly fallen in love with one another. Rosalind and Celia escape Vancouver by taking on secret identities: Rosalind disguises herself as Ganymede, a young man, and Celia as Aliena, his sister. In the Okanagan all the exiled characters meet, and we watch their relationships grow and transform, all while the two girls remain in disguise. “The actors] seem like a very connected ensemble. They listen to each other well and it was very entertaining to watch,” said Mara Ozarchevici, a first-year student in the Future Teachers program, in an interview with the Other Press. However, she said, “At times they could have been more grounded, [as] a lot of them were jumping around on stage. At times it worked, but sometimes it distracted from what was going on in the moment.” Actors of Bard put on an impressive show. From acting, playing instruments, singing, and dancing to stage set-up, it’s hard not to ask, “What can’t they do?” Throughout the play there are many instances when the crew must improvise their lines and these moments make it all the easier to acknowledge their skill in the craft. In the performance | attended, at one point a helicopter flew above the grounds and the actors all went quiet, merely looking up to the sky in unified confusion for a prolonged moment. This alone caused an uproar of laughter in the audience. The actors bring life to the archaic language of Shakespeare, so the spectators do not feel alienated. This benefits the play greatly, since theatregoers can fully connect with the emotions presented on stage— laughing during comedic scenes, crying during sad scenes, and of course gasping when metal trash cans are kicked out of anger by Duke Frederick himself. The performers can captivate their audience to the extent of causing the room to be impressively hushed. Photo of the Company of ‘As You Like It’ by Tim Matheson There is a character in this play for everyone, from the flustered, infatuated Orlando to the melancholy Jaques. Silvius, a lovesick farmer who is constantly rejected by his crush, is a notable character reminiscent of a Shakespeare version of Goofy from Mickey Mouse. The sets and costumes are confusing, to say the least. The first set looks like someone has gathered up their basement collection of random items gathering dust and thrown them onto the stage; items include a wrestling ring, 1960s band instruments, and a Vancouver skyline backdrop, further furnished with metal chairs and tables which serve little to no purpose in the play itself: The second set is more concise, comprised of decorative trees (and other nature items) and a groovy 1960s van decorated in none other than hippie-style flowers. The costumes themselves aren't necessarily bad; however, while some characters wear what appear to be Shakespeare-era clothing, others are dressed in 1960s clothes, and some are even dressed in our present-day type of outfits. Lighting on set is good throughout the musical, with colours changing very precisely with the live music and acting. The music, played by the actors switching in and out of instruments and scenes, pulls the entire production together, setting the mood for every scene. “This was definitely a great experience and I definitely recommend it to anyone,” said Ozarchevici. Bard on the Beach puts on amusing, heart-warming productions, and it would be simply outrageous for anyone not to go experience one of their joyful renditions of Shakespeare’s plays. The laughably sad tale of a pathetic man > ‘Laughter in the Dark’ novel review Ethan Gibson Contributor Vain Nabokov, author of the scandalous Lolita, created (and translated into English) another darkly comical tale of illicit romance gone irresistibly awry in his 1932 novel Laughter in the Dark. The story seems familiar at first: A wealthy, middle-aged, married man falls haplessly into infatuation with an unattainable young beauty, and she shrewdly manipulates his love for material gains. It is Nabokov’s adept and often hilarious writing of these characters that makes Laughter sucha gem. (Spoilers ahead!) I would primarily recommend Laughter in the Dark to those who prefer unconventional romance stories. This is really a cruel tale, but an enjoyable one nonetheless. The novel’s tone seems to hold very little pity or even sympathy for its characters. Albinus the middle-aged art critic is happily married—until he glimpses the young Margot, an usher at a local cinema and an aspiring (though wholly untalented) actress. Their eventual affair proves to be mutually beneficial, in an entirely toxic manner. Albinus, delusional as ever, is motivated by a lust he calls love—as the narrator explains, “Albinus [had] never been very lucky in affairs of the heart.” Margot—not unfamiliar with illicit affairs despite her youth—is after Albinus’s wealth and status, hoping that he will bring her into the high society of German cinema. Her aim of gradually taking as much of his money as possible crystallizes when she is unexpectedly reunited with the first love of her life, Axel Rex—who also happens to be an acquaintance of Albinus. The history between Margot and Axel—of which Albinus is ignorant—is rekindled when they begin an affair of their own behind Albinus’ back. They prove an especially devious pair as Axel wedges himself into Albinus'’ life, all the while scheming with Margot to take the fortune of her foolish older lover. I should say that to discuss Albinus’ status as one of the greatest losers in twentieth-century literature is not a spoiler. The novel begins like this: “Once upon a time there lived in Berlin, Germany, a man called Albinus. He was rich, respectable, happy; one day he abandoned his wife for the sake of a youthful mistress; he loved; was not loved; and his life ended in disaster.” Nabokov’s narrator sees no problem revealing the broad outline of Albinus’ life, claiming that there will be “profit and pleasure in the telling” of his story. There is indeed plenty of “profit and pleasure” in this slim, irreverent novel. It’s hard to call it a tragedy because the characters involved are ultimately and thoroughly unsympathetic. They receive the inevitable consequences of their various follies—Albinus is punished for throwing away his family and happiness, and Margot eventually pushes her luck too far. Axel Rex—Margot’s true lover—is arguably the antagonist of the novel. It is his encouragement of Margot (and her parasitic exploitation of Albinus) that drives the plot to ruins. Rex emerges as a particularly loathsome villain as he escapes this sordid business without facing any consequences. What is a reader to make of this petty domestic drama set in an unfamiliar past? Perhaps one moral of this story is that love can be far uglier than popular depictions tend to suggest. Cover of ‘Laughter in the Dark’ 66 Love can be far uglier than popular depictions tend to suggest.