'Romeo and Juliet' and 'The Mandrake' at Quintessence

Staging plays in rep offers economic benefits — Quintessence's nine actors learn two (or more) roles simultaneously, the plays share a single set and lighting plot, and audiences are inclined to see both offerings — but even more artistic benefits. Successful repertory doesn't feel repetitive or redundant, but showcases the actors' talents and illuminates both plays in a way that shows the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

I saw The Mandrake on Saturday night and Romeo and Juliet on Sunday afternoon, thus witnessing this capable ensemble perform two demanding classics in less than 24 hours. The feat is a credit to not only the cast, but also to Alexander Burns, the artistic director and director of both plays.

Characters beyond redemption

The Mandrake is off-putting at first, as the central characters are all introduced by sarcastic narrators Anita Holland and Jahzeer Terrell as coarse stereotypes. To my surprise, though, the actors shape genuine characters from these poses. Josh Carpenter seems the most egregious as "scheming parasite" Ligurio, with his rodentlike stance and toothy expression, then becomes much more.

Nearly all the characters are beyond redemption, from the lust-driven Callimaco (Alan Brincks) and greedy Brother Timothy (Sean Close) to dimwitted Nicia (Gregory Isaac), who proclaims, "I want to cause trouble for myself, and trouble for the world." The only exception appears to be Nicia's wife Lucrezia (Emiley Kiser), until we find out what her marriage vows really mean to her. If written by Molière, Callimaco and Ligurio's scheme to steal sex and money would end with justice being served, but Machiavelli's dish is cynicism, served cold — and funny.

Dyanamic juxtapositions

The transition to Shakespeare's tragic Romeo and Juliet is jarring, to say the least. The Mandrake's inspired lunacy gives way to a sleek modern-dress Verona (costumes for both by Jane Casanave), where Burns adds dynamism by overlapping and juxtaposing scenes in dancelike meditations that both clarify the story and drive it forward. Connor Hammond, a dim-witted servant in The Mandrake, makes a splendidly youthful and impulsive Romeo, and Kiser pouts, stomps, and proclaims like the teenager Juliet clearly should be. E. Ashley Izard as the nurse and Carpenter as Friar Laurence counsel the lovers with good intentions, and Carpenter also plays Romeo's violent nemesis Tybalt. Brincks makes Mercutio's famous Queen Mab speech both intelligible and appropriately mad, and Close earns sympathy as oft-neglected Paris, Juliet's official suitor.

Burns the set designer clutters Romeo and Juliet with two carts, each stacked with six televisions, that act as walls. They function best when providing time and place information, à la Law and Order, but are otherwise clunky and distracting. Also distracting is Steven Cahill's sound design, which intrudes without consistency or good effect; a few cues made me wonder if someone in the audience had a cellphone with a weird ringtone. Much more successful is the adaptation of swords to modern knives, guns, and — yikes! — a pickax by fight director Ian Rose, whose combats are effectively fierce.

Together, the two plays are a treatise on desire: how it shapes our lives, how it brings out the best and worst in us, and how social appearance and responsibility can confound our hearts. Seeing both reveals more than either does alone. Both can be enjoyed in one day on two Saturdays, October 24 and November 7.

In spring 2016, Quintessence's repertory will be Bernard Shaw's Saint Joan and Christopher Marlowe's Doctor Faustus, March 16 - April 24.