"The Beard of Avon" at Diego Rivera Theatre

City College of San Francisco's Theater Arts Department presnted "The Beard of Avon" over the past two weekends at the beautiful Diego Rivera Theatre on the college campus. "The Beard" was deftly performed by a very talented group of actors and musicians in a production on a par with any professional theatre company’s. Playwright Amy Freed crafted a delightful, highly entertaining hypothetical on who is the true author of the wealth of plays attributed to William Shakespeare. She toys with the unsolvable conundrum which has perplexed theatregoers and scholars for five centuries: Was Shakespeare simply a rather clueless farm boy or a true literary genius exploited by Lord of Oxford's Edward De Vere, who didn't want his name associated with scandalous plays? Or was Frances Bacon the prolific playwright? Or Marlowe, or perhaps Queen Elizabeth herself?

Director John Wilk's opens the play on a rustic multilevel, movable set, which he designed, in front of which sits a bale of hay and a bench. The audience hears a high pitched squeak offstage which sounds a few times before a realistic, mechanical rat scuttles on stage and hides under the bench, followed by Will (Simon Timony) and an old man, Colin (Adam Morgan). The two sit on the bench. Will confesses to Colin that he has these "thought-like things running through my head." Simon Timony plays Will as a wide-eyed, grinning dolt who walks with hesitant, short steps, arms bent and hands flapping.

Will's life is changed forever when a traveling minstrel show comes to Stratford. The lead player in the troupe is Richard Burbage aka Lord Walsingham (Will Chen). Among the other players is Goeffrey Dunderbread (a brilliantly talented Joseph Stiefvater) who plays the female rôles, as was common in 16th Century English theatre. Stiefvater captivates with lyrical, haunting soprano solos. (Jerry Mueller did the music and sound design, with Jeffery Kelly providing the lighting design.) A serious John Heminge (Uzoma Foster) both acts in and serves as manager of the troupe. The Players stage a full-out bawdy romp complete with a flesh-colored, phallic pouch displayed by Burbage moving aside fabric from a bulging burgundy codpiece as he woos, with teasing double-entendres, a beautiful, blonde-tressed wench (Stiefvater). Will, smitten, invites them to dinner. Anne Hathaway, Will's wife (a saucy Beth Trifilo), is not happy because Will wants to run away to London to be an actor.

Amy Freed‘s text comes off as a true Shakespeare comedy. She mimics closely the Bard’s meter and rhyme, and cleverly includes plays within her play. Throughout are witty lines like Will’s confession to Dunderbread: “That girl I loved became my wife, I have not seen her since.“ There is a play, if you will, on how Shakespeare got his name. Was it because his first rôle was that as a spear shaker in a crowd scene?

Unforgettable scenes: Edward De Vere (a perfectly cast DeWayne Spalding) and his delicate, bearded, male lover, Henry Wriothsley (Brian Martin) romp on De Vere’s capacious bed. Later, at one point, Henry picks up a huge hourglass from De Vere’s table and says, “Oh, look at the time, we’ll be late.“ Another is of Will and Anne, disguised as a whore, in Will’s London room where she’s followed him (he‘s been sending her money from his acting gigs), and she muses, “Does he know?” Then De Vere shows up and the three of them essentially make a Will sandwich, on the edge of Will’s bed, and later, Anne-as-whore tumbles about under the covers in De Vere’s bed, both pop up alternately with witty asides. In another scene at Will‘s with De Vere, Shakespeare’s sonnets were born. Soon, De Vere and Heminge begin to recognize that the farm boy has a way with words.

Stiefvater as Dunderbread playing Lavinia in a rehearsal of “Titus Andronicus,” is exquisite, absolute comic genius. It is De Vere’s first play attributed (in Freed’s play) to Will Shakespeare. Stiefvater plays Lavinia with wild imploring eyes, and sucked in cheeks accentuating her cheekbones to depict emaciation. Lavinia is manhandled by Demetrius and Chiron. Dunderbread has folded his hands (theye've been brutally amputated) into his costume exposing wrists which are crossed in front and bound with strips of bright red ribbons to represent blood, I couldn’t help thinking of Julie Taymor’s film of the play, with Laura Fraser as Lavinia, Titus’s daughter.

My only criticism with Wilk’s direction has to do with the placement of Dunderbread as Cleopatra and Henry Wriothesley downstage right and Heminge and De Vere slightly upstage left. Dunderbread is toying seductively with a string of sausages representing the asp who did Cleopatra in, inserting them into her bodice, as Henry hungrily looks on. At the same time, De Vere is pitching his plays to Heminge. In the audience, I was sitting where I could see and hear De Vere and Heminge, while people to my left were busy watching Dunderbread’s antics and laughing. I felt De Vere and Heminge’s conversation that revealed De Vere’s reasons for wanting his plays produced under an assumed name was important information and pointed up why (hypothetically, anyway) Shakespeare became credited for the Lord of Oxford’s work. It was a turning point of the play, which was “upstaged” by Dunderbread and Henry.

Maria Leigh’s Cindy Lauper-like take - - heavily made-up white face, brick red hair - - on Queen Elizabeth was fresh and funny. The Queen sponsors the Players so hoists herself onto her high throne to sit in on their readings. There‘s some hanky-panky going on between this Virgin Queen and De Vere, so she insists he sit close to her on a bench. (The Queen and her court’s sumptuous period costumes, and those of the Players and commoners were outstanding; designed and created by Jose Luis Leiva and Susan Linneman, and crafted by members of CCSF’s costume and make up class.) In one scene, Will and De Vere simply sit and talk to each other about their lives. Since they didn’t know each other before, the exposition for both comes off smooth and believable. Will inadvertantly gives De Vere ideas for plays, while De Vere offers Will advice: “Write what you know,” yet warns him: “Fly not near the flame of Art.”

Disappointed for not being given his due by the Players, Will returns to Stratford and Anne, only to be sent for by the Queen’s men. “Something’s come up,” he says to Anne, “I’ll write.” “I can’t read, you bastard!” Anne screams as he trots off. De Vere is dying of the plague, he hands Will his last play. “Call it ‘Twelfth Night,’” he says, “Or, what you will.”

Once Will is outed as amenable to lending his name to anyone not wanting to be known as a playwright of violent, bawdy, low-class, or scandalous historic plays, writers like Frances Bacon (a hooded Adam Morgan) crowd around, waving manuscripts at him, even the Queen, who’s written a play called, “The Taming of the Shrew.” She demands to see the ending acted out, so Lord Walsingham/Burbage (Will Chen) as Pretucio and Dunderbread as Katherine oblige.

At the finale, Joseph Stiefvater again sings a hauntingly beautiful solo from the set’s upper level which floats dreamlike over the audience.

In April look for “Cabaret”, starring Joseph Steifvater in the Joel Grey rôle as MC. The part is made for him. “Cabaret” is directed and choreographed by Debora Shaw with musical direction by Michael Shahani. It will play on Fridays thru Sundays April 18 to the 27th. Fridays and Saturdays at 8PM and Sundays at 2 PM. Diego Rivera Theatre, 50 Phelan Avenue at Judson. Tickets are $15.00 General, $10.00for students seniors and TBA members. Call 415-239-3100 for more information.

Transportation: BART, 43 Masonic, 29, and 36 Teresita. Parking available nearby.