See if you can wrap your brain around this plot: a self-righteously moral political leader propositions a young woman for sexual favors, is caught red-handed, sentenced to death and receives a judicial pardon. Sounds like last week’s cable news, right? Well, it’s Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure in a nutshell, and the elegant and polished production onstage at The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey until August 26 reminds us just how topical the Bard can be, given that four centuries after he wrote the comedy, not much has changed.
In tragicomedy (or comic tragedy), puritanical Angelo, left in charge of Vienna by Duke Vincentio, who has resigned for a while and gone into seclusion, sentences Claudio to death for getting his fiancée with child. When Angelo reveals himself to be just as lecherous—hitting on Claudio’s sister Isabella, a nun, as a condition for sparing her brother’s life—the returning Duke exacts a punishment “measure for measure,” meaning Angelo must marry his jilted fiancée Mariana and be executed for the same crime as Claudio. Of course, this being a Shakespearean comedy, he’s ultimately pardoned and everyone gets married at the end, thus setting the world right once again.
That this production means business is telegraphed by a multipurpose set designed by Bonnie J. Monte and Brian Ruggaber. Entering the theater, the audience faces a huge pair of magisterial doors at the center back, flanked by an equally large iron fence, whose bars will double as a jail. A mask of tragedy looks down on the doings below, just in case you don't get the point. Scene changes are effected by the drawing of silken draperies and the addition of a desk, chairs and stools.
Director Monte has set this version of Measure for Measure in the late 19th century, somewhere in Europe (perhaps even Vienna, given the opulence); the Victorian period is perfect for the hypocrisy that pervades every corner and spares no one, regardless of class. Paul Canada's costumes further telegraph the wealth of the upper classes, rather sober in color but rich in texture. The lower classes, especially the bawds and layabouts, he's attired in flashy colors, spats and matching bowler or top hats. And, of course, the chaste novitiate Isabella wears a subdued gray dress with a prominent cross. The atonal string music provided by sound designer Karin Graybash reinforces the discordant mood.
As Duke Vincentio, Bruce Turk (Below, center) is appropriately aristocratic, but it's a rather thankless role given that he dons a disguise, returns to Vienna undercover and dreams up the most harebrained schemes to get his state back on track. As his major domo Escalus, Richard Bourg often looks (and acts) like the only reasonable man in the city; he's more duke-like than 
the real Duke. Sean Mahan (Left, with Erin Partin as Isabella) is terrific as the straight-laced Angelo, although he looks a bit young to be charged with turning a dissolute citizenry into a law-abiding, moral bunch. His boyish looks may not convey the vileness or lechery that would demand that Isabella give him her body for her brother's life, but his upright carriage and arrogant look, befit a man who “scarce confesses that his blood flows,” a man with ice water in his veins. As that brother, Claudio, James Knight turns in a superb performance as his bravado degenerates into fear and he, too, asks his sister to trade his life for her virginity. And Greg Jackson, splendid as Claudio’s dissolute friend Lucio, runs circles around everyone; a busybody "operator" in a red suit, shoes and bowler hat, he denigrates the Duke with seeming impunity, plays one side against the other and slithers out almost unscathed with his quick tongue and snappy patter.
It is always wonderful to see Erin Partin (Right, far right) onstage at the Kirby Theater, this time in a very serious role. She is the very embodiment of righteous indignation and passion as she begs for her brother's life (although the audience probably doesn't think he deserves her efforts). Her body trembles as she pleads, and her chaste looks arouse our sympathies, if not Angelo's. Other women offer support in more minor roles: Jean Burton Walker is appropriately raunchy as the prostitute Mistress Overdone; Rachael Fox is distraught as Claudio's fiancée Julietta; and Katie McNichol (Above, left) does well as Marianna, Angelo's former betrothed (spurned because her dowry was too small) who consents to the Duke's scheme of the "bed trick" to get Isabella out of her jam; her impassioned speech in his defense will bring tears to your eyes, as it does to hers.
If these goings-on don’t sound very funny, it’s because Measure for Measure lacks the fantasy world of A Midsummer Night’s Dream or the romantic folderol of Much Ado about Nothing, but the play features similar comic characters. Raphael Nash Thompson is hilarious as Pompey, servant to Mistress Overdone. To get out of sticky situations, Thompson talks nonstop, much of it nonsense. He’s a good match for Jackson’s lunacy. But the prize goes to the constable, Elbow, played by Ben Sterling. His deadpan delivery of Elbow’s mangling of the English language (think Dogberry in Much Ado) is very funny but so low key that there weren't many laughs the night I attended.
Timely. Handsome. A combination of gravity and hilarity. It seems that “the more things change, the more they stay the same”—corruption and moral hypocrisy are alive and well and worth our scrutiny. I don't know whether to weep that we're at this juncture today or be glad that Shakespeare, once again, shows that as a keen observer of the human condition, he's a playwright for all ages. I'll take the latter; it's more comforting.
Measure for Measure will be performed at the F.M. Kirby Theatre on the campus of Drew University in Madison through August 16. Performances are Tuesday through Sunday. For information and tickets, call the box office at 973.408.5600 or visit online at www.ShakespeareNJ.org.
Photos by Gerry Goodstein.
