Istvan Dugalin ➤

Kate Martin, Emilio Vieira and Michael Man in “The Two Noble Kinsmen”, Photo by Kyle Purcell

Though an Elizabethan audience would likely have considered the chivalric code more genuinely meaningful, Shakespeare pokes some fun at it. Absurdist humour abounds in this adaptation of Chaucer’s The Knight’s Tale. The play, a collaboration with John Fletcher, has a few comedic set-ups that ultimately end in tragedy. Shakespeare often subverted dramatic expectations, but The Two Noble Kinsmen, careering radically between ludicrous and sincere modes, is particularly jarring. This austere production by Shakespeare BASH’d hits firmly on every dissonant note, hilarity and heartbreak ensue.

Despite death and some very dubious happy resolutions, the play leans into an overall comedic framing—closing with a light-hearted, indulgent epilogue. Director James Wallis’ stirring and assured staging begins with the actors playfully donning their costumes and cavorting about—a device that, when as well-executed as it is here, increases the intimacy by sealing a pact with the audience.

Right from the start, the tonal frisson begins with the joyous wedding of Theseus (Jeff Yung 容海峯) and Hippolyta (Melanie Leon) disrupted by three queens lamenting the dishonour of their dead husbands’ bodies left unburied by decree from Creon. (There are some echos of both A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Sophocles’ Antigone.) Theseus launches Athens into war with Thebes, during which two noble Theban cousins, Palamon (Emilio Vieira) and Arcite (Michael Man), are injured and captured.

The intensity of their bond is made clear as they wax poetic about how, while imprisoned together, there are no distractions from their great mutual love. It’s all very extra and undeniably endearing. But then, Hippolyta’s sister, Emilia (Kate Martin), appears in the garden outside. Palamon is the first to notice her; as his obsession immediately intensifies, Arcite follows suit. And thus, the passion of their friendship is channeled into rivalry.

From here, we watch—amused and exasperated—as their feud becomes increasingly dire and outrageous. There is banishment and appeals to deities and subplots both wretched and comedic. With echoes of Hamlet’s Ofelia and Dream’s Helena, a Jailor’s Daughter (played with brazen gusto by Julia Nish-Lapidus) becomes infatuated with Palamon and her unrequited feelings drive her deliciously mad.

Throughout, we laugh and shake our heads at Palamon and Arcite’s performative masculinity. Viera plays up a fervent aggression, allowing us to see quite clearly how all his pent up affection for Arcite is warped into animosity. Man’s Arcite is the more restrained and reflective of the two, but you can see, in aborted gestures and yearning glances, his equally enduring love.

In one of my favourite scenes between them, they tenderly dress each other in armour as they prepare for battle. They discuss, at great length, the armour’s quality and reminisce about their past, prolonging the interaction, savouring the contact. It’s a distinctly erotic and touching scene which provides a notable contrast to their superficial professions of love for Emilia, whom neither of them actually knows!

And poor Emilia, she wants nothing to do with either of them—or men, in general—and yet she’s suddenly thrust into the heat of their conflict. It falls to her to choose one of them for marriage to prevent their execution for illegal duelling. It’s all so silly and yet the high stakes are fully embraced by all concerned. Martin plays Emilia with a deer caught in headlights incredulity that lampshades the preposterousness of the situation. Her subtle trembling amplifies her compassion and anxiety.

A troupe of amateur thespians made up of bumbling local trades-folk is a nod to Dream’s “mechanicals.” They are even called upon to entertain some of the very same nobles! The interrupted duel between Palamon and Arcite is one of the most genuinely convincing sword fights I’ve seen live. Kudos to fight director Jennifer Dzialoszynski for an exhilarating sequence that is particularly impressive because of the intimate space and in the round set-up (both potentially problematic for fight scenes). Also: the sound of those clashing blades is truly gasp-worthy.

Shout out to 郝邦宇 Steven Hao, whose turn as an aspiring wooer of the Jailer’s Daughter is a comedic highlight. In scenes where he is coached by a doctor to pretend to be the object of her true affections (Palamon), his befuddled enthusiasm just tickled me.

The final moment between Arcite and Palamon, as Viera takes Man into his arms, hit me right in the feels. It is a poignant end to an unruly, genre-bending, rather affected story. Shakespeare BASH’d goes pretty hard with this emotive and insightful take on an infrequently performed classic.

The Two Noble Kinsmen
running January 25 to February 4, 2024
The Theatre Centre, BMO Incubator (1115 Queen St W)
running time: 3 hours (including an intermission)

Madelaine Hodges (賀美倫), Michael Man, Emilio Vieira and Kate Martin in “The Two Noble Kinsmen”, Photo by Kyle Purcell