Theatre review: Bard on the Beach's breezy The Comedy of Errors embraces slapstick
Rebecca Northan–helmed production successfully gives Shakespeare’s silliest play a straightforward staging
Tal Shulman, Jeremy Lewis, and Karthik Kadam in Bard on the Beach’s The Comedy of Errors. Photo by Tim Matheson
Bard on the Beach presents The Comedy of Errors at the Howard Family Stage in Vanier Park to September 21
SOME THINGS IN COMEDY, like the simplicity of a fart joke, remain timeless and universal. We have Sumerian records of some of the first jokes ever recorded to prove it, and a few thousand years later, we have The Comedy of Errors by Shakespeare. With its plot of mistaken identities and misunderstandings, clever wordplay—as usual—adds to the fun; but the real joy in this play is in revelling in the Bard’s silliest side. Understanding this, director Rebecca Northan (whose comedic work spans everything from creating Blind Date to guest-hosting This Hour Has 22 Minutes) embraces the slapstick wholeheartedly, leaning into some reliable and updated laughs.
The Comedy of Errors is one of Shakespeare’s earliest comedies, and it’s widely thought that he borrowed from second-century BC Roman playwright Plautus. In a nutshell, the story’s setup is this: two sets of identical twins are separated by a shipwreck, and decades later, one pair sets out to find the other in a far-off land. To make things more complicated, both sets of twins have the same names: Antipholus and Dromio, who are master and servant, respectively.
This Bard on the Beach production stays true to the original classical Greek setting, which takes place in Ephesus, an ancient Greek settlement in modern-day Turkey. One pair of Antipholus and Dromio is from there, while the other two brothers from Syracuse arrive searching for their kin. The father of the Syracuse Antipholus, Egeon (played by an emotionally resonant Scott Bellis), unknowingly follows them, gets caught in city-state disputes, and is condemned to death for trespassing. He’s given a 24-hour pardon after sharing the tragic story of his family’s separation with the Duke, provided he can raise a 1,000-mark ransom.
Meanwhile, over the course of this ticking time bomb—which here makes for a breezy two hours and 20 minutes, including intermission—the newly arrived twins keep getting mixed up with their counterparts. That stirs up all sorts of chaos, dragging in everyone from wives and sisters-in-law to quack doctors, and tossing expensive gold chains into the mess.
At the heart of all the confusion are the two sets of twins, brought to life by Jeremy Lewis and Tal Shulman, who make each of their characters distinct and memorable. Lewis, as Antipholus of Syracuse, brings a loose-limbed puzzlement and good-natured spirit, even while occasionally chasing after Dromio with the threat of violence for seemingly disobeying his orders. As Antipholus of Ephesus, he adopts a more severe, sleazier demeanour and lowers his voice a few octaves.
Shulman’s Dromio of Syracuse charmingly scampers about the stage. In contrast, his Dromio of Ephesus is delightfully sassy. Shulman especially shines as Dromio of Ephesus, capturing the chaos and desperation of the situation. His occasional ad-libs are a highlight, like when he tells the frazzled Adriana (Meaghan Chenosky) “Girl, I’m going” as she sends him to find her husband Antipholus, or delivers a deadpan “I’m not frantic” while being carried off by authorities.
It’s also his Dromio of Syracuse who delivers a clever twist on one of the play’s famous scenes. Instead of joking about the kitchen maid’s weight, this version focuses on her height. Dromio is both terrified and oddly intrigued, imagining climbing her like a “ladder” while stepping up stairs to act it out physically to a bewildered Antipholus.
There’s plenty of fun within the existing text, too. Keep an ear out for Karthik Kadam (who also plays the bewitching Courtesan) foregoing English to deliver some of his lines as the merchant, adding to the already rich misunderstandings. Also, watch the hilarious Craig Erickson (stepping in for Raugi Yu) as the town executioner and an officer of the Duke, who leans into the ancient Greek setting for some great physical comedy, as does Tess Degenstein’s divining doctor.
The cast wears many hats, and costume designer Christine Reimer’s colourful, quick, onstage costume changes make it easy to distinguish characters while adding some great visual gags. The action moves fast, its momentum driven by a classical lyres soundtrack that immerses the audience in the sun-kissed ancient Greek setting. Ryan Cormack’s set hints at a bustling city full of merchants, taverns, and convents with its multiple doorways and staircases—a perfect backdrop for the farce.
Who would have thought that amid this summer’s Bard on the Beach lineup, the most outrageous comedy, often considered Shakespeare’s silliest play, would have the most straightforward staging? Just reading the summary of The Comedy of Errors might make you scratch your head at its convoluted plot. But unlike the other, more stylized and conceptual productions under the big tents this summer, this one keeps it simple. Skipping the bells and whistles, The Comedy of Errors dives right into the humour. It’s all about giving the audience exactly what they came for: lots of laughs. 
Scott Bellis and the cast of The Comedy of Errors. Photo by Tim Matheson
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