PSC's latest is a mixed bag

The princeton Shakespeare Company’s production of “Troilus and Cressida,” directed by Nicolas Hybel ’12 and performed in the Butler College Memorial Court, can be summed up in one word: uneven. A lot of the time, this production of one of Shakespeare’s more obscure works is hampered by emotionless and difficult-to-follow delivery. Occasionally, though, the experience is enlivened by intense, immediate performances.

On one level, the play is a love story. Set during the final years of the Trojan War, Troilus (Charles Allen ’10), is the young son of Queen Priam of Troy (in this production, the gender of the famed sovereign has rather inexplicably been changed). Troilus is a stereotypical pining lover: He sighs and stares heavenward while proclaiming his undying love for Cressida. Though his performance is sufficiently wistful, Allen never quite matches Carolyn Vasko ’13 as Cressida for sheer star power. Vasko is truly a joy to watch. When she first appears in the company of her uncle Pandarus, she exudes confidence and wit. Later, when she is left alone with the audience, she delivers a soliloquy nearly bursting with raw emotion. The range of moods captured by Vasko makes her the most complex and interesting presence on the stage.

But the play is not only about young lovers — it is also about the end of the Trojan War. Though the Greeks have besieged Troy for nearly nine years, the city has not fallen. The best of the Greek heroes, Achilles, refuses to fight. The famous wrath of Achilles takes fresh shape in the performance of Aaron Glasserman ’13, whose shouts and sulks are reminiscent of an angsty teenager. For the most part, this works well. Glasserman’s approach brings into focus the tragedy of a war in which the overblown passions of a few have devastating consequences for many.

Sadly, the play loses momentum when it shifts from Troilus and Cressida to the Greeks and Trojans taking council in their respective camps. More often than not, it seems that the actors are reciting memorized words instead of conveying meaningful sentiments. This is especially problematic in the initial council scenes. As the actors deliver lines with little emotion and, at times, too quickly, Shakespeare is rendered incomprehensible, and it becomes difficult to follow crucial moments of exposition.

However, if the warriors in council are an example of Shakespeare made difficult and dull, the character of Thersites, played by Isaac Engels ’11, is an example of Shakespeare brought thrillingly to life. Thersites is the oft-abused slave of Achilles, and his dialogue is full of biting quips and clever wordplay. Engels, always in character, never misses a beat. Beneath his witty exterior is a man grown bitter and cynical. His jokes elicit laughter, but also comment upon the senselessness of human action within the play.

There is essentially no set, but the outdoor amphitheater is a fitting venue for a play about the heroes of ancient Greece. The actors use the space well: Though the action is mostly confined to the stage proper, Thersites, in his role as spectator and commentator, often walks along the stone rim of the stage, standing on level with the audience.

The costumes, however, were less successful, with the cast draped in an eclectic mix of semi-Grecian dresses, 1950s-style leather jackets and billowing white shirts with 17th century–style ruffles. While each costume is attractive on its own, they do not add up to a schematic whole. It looks more like the cast raided the Theatre Intime costume cupboard in the dark and made off with whatever they laid their hands on first.

Unfortunately, this kind of inattention to detail extends to most of the performance: The show feels like a series of disjointed scenes rather than a coherent work. Partly, this is due to the uneven cast, but it’s also a problem with the text itself. It’s no wonder that this is one of the Bard’s least celebrated plays. The emotional intensity ebbs and flows with the changing focus of the plot, and it is hard to discern a thematic connection between the lovers and the warriors. Even a handful of talented performers aren’t quite able to lift this production from mediocrity. Still, Shakespeare outside is pleasant on a warm evening, and the bitter wit of Thersites and the tormented passion of Cressida are almost worth the moments of boredom and confusion.