Pig Iron's "Twelfth Night' at Suzanne Roberts (1st review)

Every time I see Twelfth Night, a puerile side of me waits for one line in particular.

"A pox o' the pickled herring!" says Sir Toby Belch.

The line first struck me when I was a teenager, wading through what felt to me like awfully lofty language. Suddenly I realized that the language my English teacher idolized could describe an odiferous burp as well as true love.

In the years since, that line has been my starting point for judging productions of Twelfth Night. The approach to this line usually fits in with the director's emphasis (or lack thereof) on the riotous underside of Duchess Olivia's household. Is the line thrown away, muttered into Sir Toby's hand between more important lines? Or does it elicit a crude, credible belch at center stage as Sir Toby luxuriates in his dissipation?

In Pig Iron's current boisterous offering, director Dan Rothenberg and actor James Sugg make it the latter. This all-out production, an unusually mainstream production choice for Pig Iron, got a wild reception at this week's opening, from the pickled herring to the final dance. It's a rollicking performance that Live Arts patrons shouldn't miss.

Horns, fiddles and accordions

Pig Iron is understandably cavalier with the obligatory Playbill synopsis: Twins (Viola and Sebastian) survive a shipwreck off the coast of Illyria unbeknownst to each other. Duke Orsino loves Duchess Olivia, who's cloistered herself up for grief. There's a fool hanging around, along with the Duchess's drunken uncle, Sir Toby Belch, and his friend Andrew Aguecheek. Commence debauched schemes and mistaken identities.

Pig Iron's production boasts some of the best live music of any recent Shakespeare production in Philadelphia. Composer Rosie Langabeer unleashes a veritable orchestra of horns, accordions, fiddles and more, all of which orbit the actors onstage. The rowdy but heartfelt music adds palpable swells of absurd sentiment to the stage (although the sheer size of the band and the instruments often crowds the action).

Maiko Matsushima's disjointed set hosts stairs on one side and a balconied skateboard ramp on the other, allowing for plenty of Pig Iron's signature physical hijinks. Tyler Micoleau's lighting adds delicious washes of turquoise, magenta and lusty gold to the elaborately dilapidated doors and wall.

Eloquently weary

A stellar cast includes Sarah Sanford as Viola (as well as Viola's mustached alter-ego Cesario with perfect boyish flair). An impeccably cast Blake DeLong as Sebastian could pass as Viola's real brother. Birgit Huppuch makes a manic Olivia; and as Feste the fool, a sweet-voiced Scott Greer communes with the audience for an unexpectedly soulful performance, full of a subtle, eloquent weariness and mirth.

Charleigh E. Parker, as the feisty domestic Maria, is lascivious, imposing, diabolical and always hilarious. Andy Paterson, in a primly sculpted coxcomb of a Mohawk, brings first-rate physical comedy to Sir Andrew and doubles his contributions by blasting away on a full-bodied trombone for a blissfully boisterous wedding scene.

As Orsino, Pig Iron's co-founder Dito van Reigersberg is a languidly sensitive metrosexual whose suits bring a corona of summery style to the stage. Michael Sean McGuinness is a serviceable Malvolio and newcomer Jaime Maseda turns the eternal role of Attendant into a thing of beauty, with perfectly deadpan expressions that season each moment. I hope to see more from him in the future.

Enough with the drunk, already

As for Sir Toby and my favorite signature line…

Although James Sugg adds untold laughs to the production, his slurring, constantly sloshed portrayal of Sir Toby— seemingly on the verge of a drunken collapse in every one of his scenes— robs the production of the vein of real sweetness that is always possible between him and Maria. There is no respite from his flagrant inebriation, and this shtick undermines his chemistry with the sassy, bodacious Parker.

Despite this and a few other absences of emotional connection"“ including any mutual hints of Viola and Orsino's ultimate fate—director Rothenberg choreographs luxurious physical comedy to perfectly match the show's musical talent and fervor. Olivera Gajic's costumes also add fun to every detail"“ there must be a local shortage of outrageously colored argyle socks, now that this show is running.♦


To read another review by Marshall A. Ledger, click here.