Theatre review: Irreverent new Measure for Measure leans into absurd comedy at Bard on the Beach
Darker ruminations on sexual coercion take a back seat to a Vienna with flash-mob monks, DJs, and dabbing
Craig Erickson and Meaghan Chenosky in Measure for Measure. Photo by Tim Matheson
Bard on the Beach presents Measure for Measure at the Howard Family Stage in Vanier Park to September 20
WITH ITS NONSTOP dance-party soundtrack, not to mention its references to “dick moves”, dabbing, furry ravers, and Footloose, Bard on the Beach’s new Measure for Measure is about as irreverent as Shakespeare gets in Vanier Park.
At several points, characters enthusiastically hoist a middle finger—and it feels like director Jivesh Parasram is doing the same thing to Shakespearean pretensions. He’s taken Measure for Measure as close as possible to parody—which may put off purists.
In a risky move, Parasram has dispensed with a central feature of the plot in the work dubbed one of Shakespeare’s “problem plays” for the way it treads murky ground between comedy and tragedy. Instead of his characters using sex as a tool for power and control, they use “dance”.
To explain: Duke Vincenzio appoints Lord Angelo to rule a morally loose Vienna, the latter soon trying to turn the city around with strict enforcement of morality laws. In the 1604 original, there’s a crackdown on premarital sex, resulting in imprisonment and a death sentence for Claudio, who has gotten his fiancé, Juliet, pregnant. The hypocritical Angelo propositions the novice nun Isabella when she comes to plead for mercy for her brother, Claudio: if the virginal Isabella has sex with Angelo, he’ll spare Claudio’s life. In this version, it’s dancing and dance clubs that have been banned—and Angelo wants Isabella to boogie with him to save her sibling. There are nods to the absurdity of the setup versus the script: how could the unmarried Juliet become impregnated by her fiancé by simply dancing? “’Twas hot!”
The Euro-dance-club vibe of a free-and-easy Vienna we enter off the top of the play feels fun and right. DJ turntables sit at centre stage and a recurring presence is an emcee with a metal foxhead and silver spacesuit—in the vein of Daft Punk or Deadmau5. In Ryan Cormack’s clever set, a central desk is made of stacked stereo speakers, and a blue neon club sign that spells out “tanz” (“dance” in German) switches to glaring red “tanz verbot” when Angelo bans all dancing.
The setup allows for plenty of subversive laughs and pop-culture references (listen for song lyrics interwoven with the Bard’s lines). The absurdity is cranked to 11, costume designer Alaia Hamer outfitting everyone in neon and silver, complete with rave-issue bucket hats, gold chains, and sneakers. Helped by Krystal Kiran’s energized choreography, monks in Adidas-striped robes pop up as a recurring flash mob.
But back to the purist issues: a lot of the complexity of the play, and its characters, has been lost in this adaptation. And the degree to which you enjoy it may end up having a lot to do with not only how much reverence you hold for the Bard, but how seriously you take his exploration of sexual coercion in this play. “Who benefits from depicting Sexual Assault on stage? Likely people who don’t think of it that often, who are not acutely aware of its threat, or who haven’t survived it,” Parasram argues in his director’s notes. “And so, to educate those who haven’t lived it, should we subject those who have to becoming collateral damage?...Through this ‘sillier’ take we hope to emphasize what the play was always about: consent and power.”
Thus “grinding all up on her” and “boogieing” become metaphorical comedy. (“You must give over your body to the rhythms of the night,” Angelo deadpans to Isabella.) Silliness reigns, the stakes are lowered, and the darker, more difficult probing around women’s place in society, their ability to be believed, and the way some men take advantage of their authority is lightened considerably.
With its setting in a morally corrupt world, Measure for Measure is ripe for creative licence and outrageous reimagined settings. There was that whip-cracking S&M rendition I once saw at Stratford, or the bawdy early-1900s New Orleans red-light district version at Vanier Park just over a decade ago. Notably, both of those predated #MeToo—an era that Measure for Measure seems to speak directly to. The scene in which Angelo tells Isabella no one will believe her accusations against his sexual assault is frightening, 400-plus years later, in a post-Weinstein, post-Epstein world. And it’s rare to see a version these days that doesn’t emphasize that darker aspect of the play. What Shakespeare was probably wrangling with most, in Elizabethan times, was the idea of brutal justice meted out by blind letter of the law (“measure for measure”) versus justice with mercy. But he showed an unusual empathy for women’s vulnerability in society.
Bard on the Beach’s Measure for Measure. Photo by Tim Matheson
The Bard on the Beach production is buoyed by some notably strong performances, including Craig Erickson’s Angelo. He’s first introduced as “kind of a knob” and he lives up to that, yet with surprisingly nuanced understatement as a by-the-books morality wonk. Far from the overtly lascivious character you often see in Measure for Measure, this Angelo is a boring mansplainer who can’t quite control his own urges, especially as he starts to grasp how much power he has. He’s the ideal straight man to the absurdity that pulses around him.
The production makes clever use of a microphone, and there’s a strong moment when Erickson blithely walks around pointing it at the audience, implicating all of us, as our silence proves no one will speak up for Isabella.
Scott Bellis, filling in on opening night, has a field day as the hyper-caffeinated Duke—a guy who can barely contain his glee at creating chaos and taking the piss out of holier-than-thou Angelo. Other characters tend toward broader comedy—the German constable feels like a Mel Brooks sendup, an executioner is straight out of Monty Python, and the normally tragic Mariana (Leslie Dos Remedios), rejected by Angelo, becomes a sort of Valley Girl-Fatal Attraction type—though club kid Lucio (Karthik Kadam) does get off some killer moves and several funny one-liners.
More importantly, what about Isabella? Meaghan Chenosky puts in an earnest, agonized performance that runs in abrupt contrast to the surrounding shenanigans, digging into righteous indignation and real rage at not only Angelo’s proposition, but at her brother Claudio’s suggestion she comply. Through some trickery by the Duke, disguised as a monk, Isabella wriggles out of her bad situation.
To his credit, Parasram ultimately delivers a witty and powerful punchline to solve Shakespeare’s cryptic ending—putting agency squarely back in Isabella’s hands. It’s not quite a middle finger, but it’s a knowing, parodic double take on the absurdity of Elizabethan mores. And possibly of the Bard himself.
Measure for Measure finds itself amid an unusually bold Bard on the Beach season this year—a circus-set Twelfth Night, a song-and-dance-tweaked Hamlet. In this case, irreverence and entertainment are on boisterous supply—alongside some big move-busting. 
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