Beck Lloyd & Danté Prince in Measure for Measure | Photo by Kendra Epik
I’ve remarked before, and will again, how astonishingly malleable Shakespeare is. It isn’t just that the human truths of the text continue to resonate well into our present—the characters are so well-defined, the drama so sound, it withstands quite expansive stylization or radical re-contextualization and still holds firm. Now, I am no apologist to lazy theatre-making. Skill, craft, and insight are still necessary. The House + Body production of Measure for Measure, presented by Crow’s Theatre, satisfies all of these requirements.
Christopher Manousos’ adaptation of Shakespeare’s thoroughly dark “comedy” (hmmm, that’s a talking point), which wrestles with the forces of justice and mercy, is set in a contemporary sound studio as a group of performers present a live radio broadcast of the drama.
The framing device is pretty cool—the actors manipulating an array of props lined up alongside the microphones. There is some humour in how sound effects are achieved and the tensions that ebb and flow as cues are missed and interpersonal dynamics glimpsed. The austere aesthetic of black, white and chrome is very slick. I’m not sure about the wildly clashing colours lighting designer Chris Malkowski bathes the set in from scene to scene. It serves as a contrast to the generic white wash of the sound studio, certainly, but I found it rather distracting—neither aligned with the monochrome aesthetic nor obviously serving any apparent narrative purpose.
The personalities of the participants are established and there is some hint of a storyline, though it wasn’t easy for me to track. As I’m primarily invested in the Shakespeare and source story, I didn’t much care anyway, and would have been fine with the actors simply taking their places at the recording tables without any extraneous dialogue.
The story opens on the Duke of Vienna (Jamie Cavanagh) worrying that his lenient rule has made the city a den of vice. He puts his deputy, Angelo (Sébastien Heins) in charge while he goes into hiding as a Friar to watch how things will unfold. Angelo whips out a bunch of archaic laws to establish order—most crucially, he makes fornication before marriage punishable by death. Poor Claudio (Danté Prince), who has just gotten his not-yet-betrothed Juliet (Katherine Gauthier) pregnant, has been condemned as an example to the community. His sister Isabella (Beck Lloyd), a novice nun, is called upon to seek his pardon from Angelo—who is willing, but at the cost of her virginity.
Sébastien Heins in Measure for Measure | Photo by Kendra Epik
Juicy stuff, though arguably not so consistently funny in today’s world than it might have been in Shakespeare’s time. There is humour, of course, but this plays out today as more of a drama with a fool (The Duke only foolish in disguise and conceit here) to set everything right at the end. Those themes of justice and mercy—related, perhaps, but entirely discrete phenomena on both a practical and philosophical level—are given room to breath in Shakespeare’s text, in which characters brandish these words throughout, their motivations hinging on the distinct qualities of each.
One of my favourite sequences sees Claudio chillingly muse to Isabella about the unknowable state of death (“Ay, but to die, and go we know not where”) as he insistently coaxes his sister to sacrifice her pride and purity for his life. Prince is wonderfully compelling in his pleas to her, never lapsing into histrionics, yet radiating fearful desperation. Like the rest of this quintet, he plays multiple parts, he is especially engaging as Claudio and in his turn as the bawd Pompey, both are well integrated into his cocky portrait of the sound guy who’s running this show.
While all five of the performers are in top form here, the emotional crux of the play hinges on Prince, Beck and Heins. Beck’s dynamic with Prince is compelling in its love and disappointment, but her scenes with Heins’ Angelo are electric. Her Isabella holds her own amidst this tyrant, showcasing her vulnerability, intelligence and the empathy she maintains along with her own integrity. The most intensely emotive moment here belongs to Heins. Though lecherous and domineering, his suave and statuesque Angelo has a sharply defined dignity. The moment in question though, of redemptive lamentation, where we see Angelo lose composure for the first time, is an understated yet wrenching bit of vulnerable humanity.
Generally speaking, when Manousos and the cast sink into the actual Shakespeare, this production of Measure for Measure is spellbinding. All the rest is stylish, conceptual dressing, which works best when it doesn’t draw attention to itself.
Measure for Measure
September 15 to October 4, 2026
Crow’s Theatre, Studio Theatre
(345 Carlaw Avenue)
2 hours, 10 minutes (including intermission)
Danté Prince in Measure for Measure | Photo by Kendra Epik