Review: Folger’s Romeo and Juliet Bites Its Thumb at Love in New Staging
The results of Raymond O. Caldwell’s ambitious, encompassing modern concepts are mixed, but this production is awfully pretty, consistently entertaining, and ultimately moving. It also shows Caldwell’s directorial imagination and boldness.
By D.R. Lewis
October 15, 2024
This review originally appeared in Washington City Paper.
“This R&J is not a love story.”
That’s a bold declaration for what is arguably the world’s most famous romantic tale, and likely sacrilege to the very William Shakespeare traditionalists who gleefully trot into the recently (and stunningly) renovated Folger Shakespeare Library for a date with the Bard. But in his program note for Romeo and Juliet, playing at Folger Theatre through Nov. 10, director Raymond O. Caldwell makes clear that his production will buck traditional treatment of the famed star-crossed lovers, and focus on the societal forces that lead to their—400-year spoiler alert ahead—untimely death.
He wastes no time in doing so, either. As audiences enter the Elizabethan-style theater, a series of preperformance political speeches (projections by Kelly Colburn) illustrate Caldwell’s Verona as one plagued by warring political dynasties, the Capulets and the Montagues. We soon come to realize that this city and its people are marked by decadence (namely in power, luxury, and substances) that will come to wreak havoc on this tale of romance (for the uninitiated: The scions of each family fall in love, are rejected by friends and family, attempt to elope with the assistance of two well-meaning elders, but instead perish because of a little miscommunication—in this staging a result of spotty cellphone service). By the final confrontation, the thirst for blood, revenge, and blame is so unyielding that one gets the sense Verona will soon be nothing more than a literal ghost town.
But if Caldwell’s comment is that the primary sin of the families in question is their affair with indulgence, the director flirts with his own brand of the same transgression. His production has no room for the kind of rose-tinted sentimentality that other interpretations and adaptations, including West Side Story, rely on. Instead, he recasts the titular pair as badass teens and comic leads, playing the early bits for laughs to remold our preconceived notions. But Shakespeare’s text is only so pliable, and by the time the star-crossed (or in this case, star-cross-faded) lovers are barreling toward death, some in the audience are so primed to laughter that even innocuous interactions between Friar Lawrence (Brandon Carter) and Paris (Gabriel Alejandro) elicit nervous chuckles as Juliet lies unconscious.
One may wonder how that could possibly be, considering the play’s tragic reputation. Crack it up to concept, the double-edged sword by which so many modern-dress Shakespeare productions live and die. In this instance, it manifests as a series of hyper-modern interpolations: doctored thirst-traps of Lord Capulet’s (Todd Scofield) handpicked son-in-law, Paris (or @ill.always.have.paris, per the onstage Insta handle); Juliet (Caro Reyes Rivera) sniffing her own armpits for unwanted body odor in pubescent panic; a vile of poison dropped from the rafters in an Amazon Prime envelope (which, remarkably, matches the Montague color scheme); and, perhaps most shockingly, a hand-rolled joint in the famed balcony scene. “But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” It is the east, and Juliet is … a stoner?
In this regard, Caldwell’s production is massively reminiscent of Baz Luhrmann’s 1996 film Romeo + Juliet (yes, a plus, not an “and”), starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. Like Luhrmann, Caldwell casts the Capulets as a Latino family (which allows for several excellent bilingual Spanish-English sequences in which the exquisite Luz Nicolas very nearly walks off with the show as Juliet’s Nurse). He also introduces a range of drugs for both families’ teens to abuse, and then arms them with a wide array of weaponry. The most obvious nod to the film, however, comes when Romeo (Cole Taylor) and Juliet meet at the Capulet ball. Though Caldwell leaves out the iconic fish tank, he achieves the same breathtaking moment of connection as a sampled riff on Des’ree’s “Kissing You” plays softly (sound designer and composer Matthew M. Nielson’s work is uniformly great).
Caldwell adds an additional layer, though, to underscore the families’ power divide. The Capulets are dripping in red, with a pompous Lord Capulet sporting a southern accent and angling to amass additional power through an arranged marriage, while the Montagues are sheathed in shades of blue (the sumptuous costumes are by Jeannette Christensen, whose footwear selections are especially fabulous). Lady Montague (Renee Elizabeth Wilson) sits as the head of their dynasty (in one video, she makes reference to a coconut tree and the context in which one exists in an obvious nod to a certain presidential nominee). Alberto Segarra’s neon lighting design flashes bold shades of the respective colors, but as Romeo and Juliet become increasingly entwined, they begin to wear shades of the other’s colors, eventually finding bipartisan love beneath a bright purple blanket.
The results of Caldwell’s ambitious, encompassing modern concept are mixed; a case of flair over fundamentals. In the first half of the play, the production’s technical features frequently overwhelm the text that has made Romeo and Juliet an enduring work. And that tonal shift between the early comic spin and the inevitable devastation of the play’s ending are responsible for some of the aforementioned whiplash.
On the flip side, many of Caldwell’s decisions add new, exciting luster to otherwise secondary characters. His Friar Lawrence is a spiritual influencer dependent on streaming to spread the good word. Benvolio (John Floyd, heartbreaking) is queer-coded and gentle, devastatingly stylish and utterly devoted to Romeo. And Tybalt (Alina Collins Maldonado) and Mercutio (Giovanna Alcântara Drummond) defy gender stereotypes to offer some of the most thrilling moments of the play with Robb Hunter’s fight choreography (Drummond’s “Queen Mab” speech is spellbinding).
Of the couple in question, Taylor has the easier go at bringing his ultra-charming Romeo to life, but performing Shakespeare is no easy endeavor. His portrayal is nuanced, thoughtful, and expertly paced. We see him mature quickly, but naturally, in the face of catastrophe, and his performance is a highlight of the night.
As Juliet, Reyes Rivera has a harder path. At times, the naivete as written is at odds with the rambunctious young woman in Caldwell’s vision. Reyes Rivera’s antidote is to commit fully to the scene, which she does time and time again, and her performance only becomes more assured as the play carries on. In particular, her chemistry with Luz and Fran Tapia (as Lady Capulet) is palpable, and together they create a complex, compelling triangle of maternal love.
Even with its warts, this Romeo and Juliet is awfully pretty (choreography is by Tiffany Quinn and scenic design is by Jonathan Dahm Robertson), consistently entertaining, and ultimately moving. That the plays can withstand such a heavy touch of reimagination is only testament to their genius. Caldwell’s ability to take a well-known entity and make it fresh and exciting shows his directorial imagination and boldness. Theater is a living form, and Shakespeare’s plays shouldn’t be left in amber. But maybe next time we leave the coconut trees out of it.
Romeo and Juliet, written by William Shakespeare and directed by Raymond O. Caldwell, runs through Nov. 10 at the Folger Theatre. folger.edu. $20–$84.
Fran Tapia as Lady Capulet, Caro Reyes Rivera as Juliet, and Luz Nicolas as Nurse in William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, directed by Raymond O. Caldwell. Credit: Erika Nizborski