There is not a better way to celebrate the holidays than a visit to the Classic Stage Company where they are hosting the Fiasco Theater’s entertaining and very funny production of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, or What You Will. If you are wondering what play to introduce your child to the Bard right now, this one is it. Every now and then there is that rare confluence of conception, acting, directing, and in this instance, a lot of extra songs and (with no apologies) silly cavorting that adds up to sheer pleasure for two and one half hours. We have heard for years from contrarian Bardologists how this is arguably either a perfect comedy and also one of Shakespeare’s weaker plays. How about just letting it stand now forever as his best and most appealing to all ages and generations. Notwithstanding the sublime imported production from the Globe Shakespeare Company with Mark Rylance in 2013 (playing Olivia), this more modestly staged but even more immodestly performed production has beautifully addressed the play’s outrageously convoluted plotting and considered the bountiful mix of tomfoolery and romance in a most delightful way. Here is a totally disarmingly staging with only a few props and set pieces and actors who not only sing and dance but play musical instruments. This staging is filled to the brim with the kind of boldly comical conceits that are allowed to take precedence over the issues of sexual identity that can sometimes smother our pleasure. That’s a good thing for those of us who are more apt to welcome the antics of the secondary characters over the plight of the principals. Just to refresh your memory: The courting of wealthy and titled Lady Olivia by the personable but dull Duke Orsino of Illyria becomes complicated by the arrival of Viola, a young girl who masquerades as a page to the duped Duke after a traumatic separation from her twin Sebastian during a violent storm at sea. Viola unwittingly falls in love with the Duke only to discover that Olivia has fallen head over heels in love with her as Cesario, the page. The arrival of look-alike Sebastian to Ilyria, who, instantly smitten with ardor upon seeing the fair Olivia, adds another layer of burlesque to a comedy already over-layered with “what you will.” If Shakespeare’s delightful crew of secondary characters is usually encouraged to run amuck in order to confuse us as well as the lovers, they suddenly seem to have inherited an importantly comedic weight. Arguably strained and incredulous, the story nevertheless benefits from the co-direction by Noah Brody and Ben Steinfeld. This is not to imply that the sentiments of the play have been forfeited for the sake of the silliness that now seems to pervade the action. Those who savor the former will also be rewarded. That suave sentimentalist Duke Orsino is winningly played by the co-director Brody. Traditionally the Duke is remembered best for his brief yearnings for the love of Lady Olivia (played with an appealing vibrancy by Fiasco co-artistic director Jessie Austrian). Orsino is mostly troubled by his attraction to Viola/Cesario (a wonderfully spunky Emily Young) an issue that adds a dimension to his conflicted personality. It is no small feat that Young makes as good an impression as a woman as she does in the guise of a man. Her sweet but commanding acting style is a cause for celebration. As Sebastian, Javier Ignacio may not get as much stage time as her twin, but he gives us a robust account of an easily provoked and more easily infatuated young man. Most happily, the antics appear organic to the broadly comical artistry displayed by Andy Grotelueschen as a wild-haired and bearded Sir Toby Belch and Paco Tolson as his dim-witted but amusingly dapper sidekick Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Paul L. Coffey projects just the right amount of deplorable arrogance as the maligned "affectionate ass" Malvolio. This, as he succumbs to the unkind plot machinations as devised by the clever servant Maria, lustily played by Tina Chilip, making her Fiasco debut. There’s no fool like a glib fool (“Better a witty fool than a foolish wit”), and Ben Steinfeld’s disarming Feste is a feast. The costume designer Emily Rebholz outfits the company in humorously contemporary casual, such as Viola and Sebastian wearing twin, brown, fisherman knit sweaters. How cool is that? The directors have taken what is naturally strained and equally incredulous in Shakespeare to heart. But they take Shakespeare’s mixture of parody and poignancy just one or two steps farther into the realm of sidesplitting bliss, all to the good and all for our merriment.
