The Merry Wives of Windsor — Shakespeare’s only play that centers around everyday working folk — is a wonderful selection for the Public Theater’s 2021 offering. This production arrives after a difficult stretch which renewed awareness of our neighbors and neighborhoods. For this rendition, the location has been dropped from the title and the spouses in question have been moved to South Harlem. There, Farai Malianga engages with the audience as a congenial street drummer. After a quick lesson in African diaspora, he ushers in the local residents who will share their story. Layabout John Falstaff has grown weary of his VR light saber and nutrition-free snacking and is ready to get out and mingle. He has his eye on Mmes Ekua Page and Nkechi Ford, two close friends with husbands of means. Even his wooing is lazy and he sends the exact same love letter to them both. Thankfully they are clever bad ass women who know how to handle themselves. Ekua has the additional responsibility of finding a suitable match for her beautiful daughter, Anne. She has her heart set on the prestigious Doctor Caius, while Mr Ford has selected Slender, a sweet but rather simple young man. But like her mother, Anne has a mind of her own and her lover of choice is not negotiable.
Saheem Ali’s staging takes advantage of the Delacorte’s airy space, filling it with the vibrant energy of his enthusiastic ensemble. Jacob Ming-Trent is a total joy as a noisy, brash, and notorious-in-his-own-mind Falstaff. His journey via laundry basket has never been funnier. There is such warmth and charm in his performance, one feels a bit sorry about his treatment at the hands of far wittier Wives. Susan Kelechi Watson’s Madam Ford grabs attention with her fabulous moves while Pascale Armand’s Madam Page is a commanding and calculating conspirator. Both employ West African accents which add flavor though may present a challenge for unaccustomed ears. Shola Adewusi as Mama Quickly and David Ryan Smith as the dapper doc make the most of their two dimensional characters with their impeccable timing.
Ghanaian-American writer Jocelyn Bioh has condensed Shakespeare’s comedy to a brisk 110 minutes and spiced up the language with modern slang and appropriate cultural references from jollof rice to Dreamgirls. Upbeat musical cues by composer Michael Thurber as well as Dede Ayite’s brilliant outfits set off with hair and wigs by Cookie Jordan punch up the energy. Stagehands outfitted as sanitation workers work speedily to redress the backgrounds. The colorfully rendered settings by Broadway vet Beowulf Boritt include a hair braiding salon, laundromat, family clinic and walkup apartment house, though nothing tops the natural beauty of the park itself, revealed in its natural splendor for the final scene.
The material is not the only part of the equation that is an appropriate match to this moment. While much of the venue is seated at full capacity, sections are reserved for those who prefer to remain masked and distanced. A fleet of volunteers help everyone find their place quickly and enforce protocols as needed. The touchless program is accessed using a QR code on the seatback.
The entirety of Merry Wives is a celebration of life, tolerance, and togetherness. It is a love letter to New York and New Yorkers and a wonderful excuse to share a belly laugh in a crowd after a long stretch in isolation. In particular, it is a fitting tribute to the residents of Seneca Village, the 19th Century Black community that lived on the land that is now occupied by Central Park. Performances have been extended through September 20. Visit https://publictheater.org/productions/season/2021/sitp/merry-wives/ for free ticketing information.
The Cake
The Cake is like one of those imperfectly filled jelly donuts: a few sweet spot surrounded by too much bland. At a time when we could use serious conversation and considered insight into the critical issues that divide us as a nation, this comedy by This Is Us producer Bekah Brunstetter offers too little that is satisfying. Though it concludes with some timid steps towards a “love is love is love” message, it gets there via worn out arguments on both sides of the issue of gay marriage.
Fans of That 70s Show may delight in seeing Debra Jo Rupp as Della, the owner of a sweet shop in Winston-Salem North Carolina (Brunstetter’s home town) about to find fame on a national baking show. Her opening monologue cleverly lays the groundwork for the rigid discipline Della applies to all areas of her life. Soon after, she is reunited with Jen, her deceased best friend’s daughter, who is in town preparing for her October wedding. Initially Della is thrilled when asked to provide the wedding cake. But when she discovers Jen’s intended is another bride, she clumsily rescinds the offer. Their ensuing awkward discussion leaves both Della and Jen rattled and searching for the roots of their beliefs and accompanying feelings of shame.
Director Lynne Meadows does her best with a space that is too wide for a story this intimate. Rupp is her usual perky self, delivering most of the better lines with comic flair. To some ears, Della will simply come across as a bigot (though a chirpy petite one) who uses someone else’s pleasure and pain to mend her own relationship. But there are moments when Della’s turmoil feels genuine. Rupp is most grounded in her scenes with Dan Daily, who has the most joyful character arc in the role of her domineering husband, Tim. (Daily also provides the voice of the appropriately oily George, the host of the American Baking Show who functions as Della’s conscience.)
Rupp and Angelson in The Cake. Photo by Joan Marcus.
The relationship of the lesbian couple is more problematic. Disappointingly, though the words are often there — particularly in Jen’s vivid and horrifying description of her heterosexual encounters — there is no palpable connection between the two actresses. The fresh-faced Genevieve Angelson brings a sweet restlessness to Jen as she is tossed between the realms of her conservative childhood and newly found freedom discovered in New York. As her betrothed, Marinda Anderson gives Macy some well-earned rough edges, though the script occasionally requires her to speechify. But as a couple, they never seem to click.
The overall look of the piece is spot-on. Scenic designer John Lee Beatty has chosen candy colors to surround his baker, with mint green and strawberry cream pink swirling through her shop and home. In contrast, the engaged couple is staying in the only earth toned room on the set. Wardrobe by costume designer Tom Broecker follows a similar scheme, with Jen alternating palates. Philip S. Rosenberg’s ’s lighting sharpens the intensity of Della’s inner dialogue and softens the conversations between lovers.
With The Cake, Ms. Brunstetter has tried to make the point that recent cultural shifts have occurred too quickly for some goodhearted people to catch up. The irony is that since the time the play was first produced, those same shifts have given rise to a slate of superior projects with bolder things to say. From our current cultural vantage point, this work is a disappointing use of Rupp’s comedic talent as well as a waste of several delectable-looking cakes.
The Cake is playing through March 31 at MTC at New York City Center – Stage I. Theater-goers under 30 qualify for special $35 tickets. Full priced tickets begin at $89 and can be purchased online at www.nycitycenter.org, by calling CityTix at 212-581-1212, or by visiting the New York City Center box office (131 West 55th Street).