Devin E. Haqq (left) is the last Pericles in Fiasco Theater’s production, and Emily Young is his long-lost daughter Marina, in the great discovery scene in Shakespeare’s late romance.
Pericles, the first of Shakespeare’s late romances, is the only play not in the First Folio. Most critics agree that the first two acts are by someone else, possibly the work of George Wilkins, who wrote the “prose narrative” on which the play is based, and from which Fiasco Theater’s galloping production sometimes borrows. But the last three acts are the Bard, and this play, even though Ben Jonson called it “a mouldy tale,” has proven resilient.
Pericles (Tatiana Wechsler, right) is helped by fishermen (Paul L. Coffey left, and Noah Brody) after washing ashore in Pentapolis.
The text has been pared down judiciously by Fiasco, so that even the speech at the top of Act III that many critics acknowledge as Shakespeare’s entrance is reduced to two lines. There are interpolations and changes, mostly well-considered.
The picaresque story ranges from Tyre, where Pericles rules, across the ancient Mediterranean, with scenes in Antioch, Tarsus, Mytilene, Ephesus and Pentapolis. The host/storyteller is Gower (Ben Steinfeld, who also directs), and right off the bat Fiasco trims a speech with spoilers—wisely letting it play out before one’s eyes.
In Antioch, Pericles is wooing the daughter of King Antiochus, but first he must solve a riddle. He does, but the solution points a damning finger at the king himself, and Pericles has to flee. Back in Tyre, he realizes that Antiochus, the Vladimir Putin of his day, will never let him live. Helicanus (Paul L. Coffey), his trusted advisor, tells him:
“Therefore, my lord, / go travel for awhile / Till that his rage and anger be forgot.” The savvy Fiasco tweak gives the audience a helpful geographical pointer: “Therefore, my lord, / go you to Tarsus. Hide you there.” When Antiochus’s assassin arrives in Tyre, he learns that the prince has left on unspecified travels.
King Simonides (Andy Grotelueschen) celebrates his daughter’s betrothal with a dance.
In Tarsus, Pericles brings supplies to the governor, Cleon, and his wife, Dionyza, to save their country from a famine. A quick summary from Gower—that Pericles should not tarry in Tarsus—sets the prince off again, but his ship is wrecked in a storm, and he washes up in Pentapolis, where, helped by fishermen who find him on the shore, he wins Thaisa (a forthright and eloquent Jessie Austrian), the daughter of fun-loving King Simonides (Andy Grotelueschen) in a series of jousts.
He leaves again, with Thaisa as his bride. In the midst of a storm at sea, she delivers a child, Marina, but dies in childbirth; to lighten the load, the coffin with her body is thrown overboard. Pericles manages to get back to Tarsus, where he leaves Marina with Cleon and Dionyza. More adventures follow: they involve pirates, betrayals, a shamanistic healer, and Marina forced into a brothel, where she hilariously thwarts the madam (Austrian, again superb) with her immovable virginity.
The Fiasco troupe’s performances are excellent; the verse-speaking is of an exceptionally high order and projected with clarity. Even ad-libs are well-judged and comic. As Simonides, Grotelueschen insists that everyone dance for the betrothal of Thaisa and Pericles, then stops them in mid-step, declaring, “Now this is the king’s solo,” and he lifts his robe and prances around the stage.
The play’s sweep is accomplished by actors all doubling in various roles, but with one major and unfortunate gimmick, described early by Gower:
Wechsler as Pericles battles for the right to marry Simonides’s daughter, Thaisa. Photographs by Austin Ruffer.
Now Pericles, the prince of Tyre,
To honor’s grace he did aspire.
But life did send him endless trials,
As he sailed the sea for countless miles.
And with each test or twist of fate
He became a different person straight!
The practice of Pericles being played by actors of various genders and races carries the whiff of a high school production: Everyone must have a chance to play Pericles. The ones who do are Paco Tolson, Noah Brody, Tatiana Wechsler, and Devin E. Haqq. All are good, and the changeovers, accomplished with slow motion, silence, and a tiny bell, are mostly clear. But to follow a single actor through countless trials is a greater emotional investment—with a greater payoff—than being pulled out of the world of the play periodically and trying to decide which Pericles is preferable. Even though Haqq as the last Pericles and Emily Young as Marina manage to tighten one’s throat for the sublime reunion scene, the changes are distracting. (One more quibble: the well-barbered Haqq contradicts Gower’s description that “he swears never to wash his face nor cut his hairs.”)
On the whole, though, Fiasco has served the play well. Anyone who has not seen Pericles is likely to come away delighted by this production, its rapid pace, and the joy of seeing American Shakespeareans near the top of their game.
The Fiasco Theater’s Pericles runs through March 24 at Classic Stage Company (136 East 13th St.). Evening performances are at 7 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday; matinees are at 2 p.m. March 2, 3, 9, 13, 16, 23, and 24. For tickets and information, visit classicstage.org/pericles.
Playwright: William Shakespeare
Direction, Music & Lyrics: Ben Steinfeld
Costume design: Ashley Rose Horton
Lighting Design: Mextly Couzin
